Still Friday
I sit on the hospital bed beside Doctor Donnie. I think the last injury that I had to come here for was my biking accident. My leg had gotten all bloody and stuff and I said it just needed a band-aid. Don wasn't too happy, but he let it slide. Until, of course, I got an infection. That was a month ago. I guess that's how he pressured Leo into this.
Really, it's just a sprain. It was my stupid fault and now we had to waist our afternoon over nothing. Great going, Mike. I shake my head, "I'm real sorry, D."
He shrugs, "What for?"
I shake my head, "I should have been more careful," I think I'm the majority of our hospital visits. And what I did was totally stupid. What? Did I think they were just going to give me the ball? I never know what Raph means when he gets angry and 'sees red', but maybe that's what happened? No, probably not. He goes as far as to break people. I just broke myself. Or, more likely, sprained. I sigh, "They're just getting to me is all."
"The kids in gym?" Don asks. I nod. He shakes his head, "What did I say about listening to those guys? They're just trying to get under your skin." Yeah, but, it's different. They're saying it to my face! They mean it when they're not afraid to hide. I bow my head. "How did it start?"
I roll my eyes, leaning back. As my hand moves behind me, I grimace and quickly move it back. "Well. I was real great in the last segment. Soccer? And the guys thought it would be a good idea to put me on point, cuz, they thought I'd be good. But I never used my hands in soccer and I can't seem the get the dribbling part right. They keep calling me names - especially the team we compete against - and it really distracts me."
He laughs, sitting beside me, "That's sort of the point. They're trying to psych you out."
I shake my head. He doesn't get it, "But what they're saying-"
"What are they saying?" he asks.
I shrug, "You know. Like, saying I have two left feet. Or that I'm stupid. Or stuff like that."
He rolls his eyes, "Well, you got the most points in soccer, so you don't have two left feet. And you're not stupid, I can tell you that right now. Just think about what they're saying, Mike. None of it is true."
"Really?" I raise my eyebrow. They're calling me out on things that I'm doing wrong. So, they must be serious. Though, I'm not stupid just cause I can't make a shot. And I might not always grab it right, but if it were soccer…but it's not soccer.
He nods, "Really. And if you're so worried about not being good at basketball, then just keep practicing. You'll get it eventually."
"Just keep trying?" I ask. How am I supposed to keep trying when they won't pass me the ball?
He smiles, totally missing the point here, "Right. Just keep trying. Don't give up. You'll get it."
"Thanks Don," I smile nicely. At least he tried to understand. I lean in for a hug, "Owe," before realizing my hand still hurts.
