Page 104 of The Goalie in Room 1

The words left a hollow spot behind my ribs.

Thad would already know what was wrong with my knee if he were here.

Except he wasn’t.

Eli took the crutch from his therapist and lowered himself onto the table.

Matteo touched my shoulder. “Your turn.”

I followed him toward the other side of the room before my knee—or the thought of Thad—could stop me.

Matteo pointed at the treatment table. “Sit.”

“You always this bossy?” I joked.

“You should meet your surgeon.”

I glared at him.

His grin lasted until I climbed onto the table and stretched out my leg. Then his attention dropped to my knee, all business.

“When did it start feeling different?”

“When I woke up. I can’t explain it. Something’s just…different.”

“Pain?”

“No.”

“Anything happen yesterday?”

“Nothing happened worth mentioning.”

“That means yes, something happened, but you don’t want to tell me.”

I thought back through the day. PT. Putting away a grocery order. Making Thad dinner. A trip to Halo House. And Maxie talking me into shooting foam pucks at a laundry basket until Phoenix threatened to tattle on me.

“I might’ve been on it more than usual.”

“How much more?”

“Some.”

Matteo looked at me.

“Okay. A lot.”

“There it is.”

He worked his fingers carefully around my knee, checking the swelling before putting me through the same movements I’d done a hundred times. I watched his face for any change and hated myself for it.

“Stop trying to diagnose yourself through my eyebrows,” he said.

“Then stop making faces.”

“This is just my face.”

“It’s a shitty face that’s not telling me anything.”