Saturday, 5 January, 19:00, EDT, present day
"Good evening, Sir," the female flight attendant smiled at the professional athlete as she handed him an extra pillow. "We're about to take off. If you could turn your mobile to airplane mode before we do so?"
Phillip nodded and smiled. He blew out a breath as he looked down at the text. He didn't really expect an immediate response but he secretly wished it. He switched to airplane mode, pocketed the device and then placed the extra pillow behind his injured left shoulder. He tried to make himself as comfortable as possible in his first-class seat. He placed his earphones on and readied himself for the safety briefing and then the in-flight movie. He could never sleep during the seven-hour flights back to the U.K.
o-o-o
Sunday, 6 January, 7:30, GMT, present day
The jetlag kicked in. He somehow made it down to the baggage claim area without tumbling over, even with the brace on his left leg that stabilized his repaired knee. He had had the arthroscopic surgery to repair the Anterior-Cruciate-Ligament tear as soon as the team had returned from the west-coast road trip.
He grabbed the single blue suitcase from the carousel. He adjusted his backpack on his back. He headed toward the taxi area to catch a ride home. He smiled to himself as he looked out of the window of the cab observing the London skyline during the twenty-minute ride to the Chiswick home.
He paid the cab driver and walked up the walkway to the suburban home. He unlocked the front door and walked into the foyer. He adjusted his backpack on his back as he locked the door behind him.
He stopped to peer into the garage through the small glass window. The old blue BMW was parked. He took in a strained breath, thinking about his father. He made his way through the living room to his bedroom.
He gently placed the backpack on the floor and his phone on the nightstand. He started to get ready for bed, quickly undressing, leaving only his briefs to sleep in. He pulled his bed covers down and settled into bed. He yawned and fell fast asleep.
o-o-o
Friday, 25 May, 16:25 EDT, almost 7 months ago
Phillip stared at the text that he had composed. He had read and reread the text for the past ten minutes, trying to reassure himself that there was nothing in the text that was distasteful. The last thing he wanted to do was to offend Drew's father.
He had received the text almost a week ago from Mr. Malfoy saying that Drew had awoken from her coma. It had taken him almost a week to respond, what with all of the NBA playoff hoopla.
"Hey, you don't want to be late for the walkthrough," the team's trainer nodded at him. "You'll be running laps forever."
Phillip laughed and nodded as he stood up. The trainer left him there. He blew out a breath and hit the send icon. He placed the phone back into his gym bag and ran out of the home locker room. He surely didn't want to be late for the walkthrough before the Eastern Conference game seven matchup between them and the New York Knicks.
o-o-o
He had immersed himself in his work since leaving London in April. He was laser-focused in his training with the Celtics. It was easier to do that than to think of the circumstances across the pond. Guilt washed over him every time he pictured her lying in the Wizarding hospital bed.
The long Eastern Conference playoffs helped to keep him in check. He put his time in the gym and during the homestands, his bedtime routine would be the same. He would sit on his bed, looking at the college photo and then he would tap the ring box. He would settle into bed and picture her face and then he would fall asleep.
o-o-o
Sunday, 3 June, 12:15 EDT, 7 months ago
Phillip high-fived the eight-year-old cancer patient after her last basketball went through the hoop of the pop-and-shot. The Celtics, as an organization was very good at taking part in community events. The team's Public Relations department had scheduled the event co-sponsored by Massachusetts General, even as the team was in their championship run.
Phillip and the boys had just tied up the series the previous night and were slated to leave for Houston the next day for the game three matchup two days later. Some of the boys were a bit displeased about having to attend another gathering. Many of them would have rather rested or been out on the town.
Phillip was humbled to be around the young cancer survivors. He blinked back tears remembering his mother who had succumbed to the ailment.
"You're really good with the kids. You and your wife have any of your own?" the older gentleman asked as Phillip turned.
"No, don't have any kids yet," Phillip said, "Not married, Sir."
"Sorry, I just assumed you and Ms. Randle were together," the older man chuckled. He extended his hand, "Harrison Cain, Hospital Director."
"Phillip Martinez," Phillip said as he shook the black man's hand.
"I really appreciate that you and the boys volunteer your time every year for this event," the director said adjusting his glasses on his face.
"I enjoy doing it, Sir. Anything to help out with the fight against cancer," Phillip paused, "My mom passed away from breast cancer when I was a kid. I know how important this work is."
"I wish there were a lot more people of your stature in the world that felt the same way as you do," the older man said shaking Phillip's hand again.
"Mr. Cain, Mr. Martinez, we're ready to start the formal program," one of the event organizers said. The two men nodded and followed her into the ballroom.
o-o-o
Sunday, 3 June, 12:30 EDT, 7 months ago
Event organizers had seated Phillip next to Lisa. Phillip had inwardly groaned as he made his way to his seat. Flashbulbs from the media's cameras went off as they captured the whole room. He politely smiled and nodded at her as he sat down. She placed her hand on his.
"Well, this event can't get done fast enough," she leaned into him and whispered in his ear.
He smiled. "It's for a good cause."
She rolled her eyes. "Dad and his charitable ways."
He laughed. He nodded at her as the formal program began.
o-o-o
Friday, 29 June, 10:00 EDT, almost 6 months ago
"Uncle Phillip!" a group of youngsters between four and ten years old grabbed onto his hands as they pulled him to where the other team kids were. He smiled to himself.
o-o-o
The championship series was a long and drawn out one. The team, in general, had come up against an extremely tough team in the Houston Rockets. They had battled them every step of the way.
The media seemed overly critical of the Celtic star power forward. They speculated that he was distracted over contract negotiations. That he seemed like his mind was elsewhere and that it was affecting his game were fodder for social media.
They were partially correct. His mind was elsewhere at times. He would think of the grey-eyed, competitive former classmate and wonder about her whereabouts. But thoughts of her only motivated him more to play harder. Thoughts of her got him through the grueling home, triple overtime game seven two weeks ago.
The past two weeks were focused on team activities to close out the season. He and his teammates cleaned up their lockers for the summer and did their exit interviews with team executives.
He was asked about how he saw the final year of his contract playing out. Phillip smiled and told him flat out that he was going to continue to play as he has always had and that whatever happens would happen.
He made up his mind to stay as far away from the team facility to work out during the off-season. His building's fitness facilities would suffice and it would give him some time to figure things out away from distractions like the team's owner and his daughter. The last team activity was the Friday championship parade.
o-o-o
Phillip looked over the rail at the fans that lined the street and smiled. He took in a breath as he looked at the skyline and remembered their conversation almost eight years ago after being drafted by the Celtics.
He had invited his father, Aston and Drew for dinner at his new apartment. Of course, his girlfriend, Reese, would also be there. Drew and Aston had Flooed to the Boston sports bar and had taken a taxi to the address that Phillip had given them.
Phillip and Reese had welcomed them at the door. Phillip noticed that Aston had his right arm around Drew's shoulders. She had worn a burgundy blouse and black jeans. Phillip had to remind himself to breathe for a moment. He smiled as he extended his right hand out to his oldest friend, compelling Aston to shake it and otherwise removing his arm around her shoulders.
"Come on, I'll give you the tour," Phillip said as he nodded at the new arrivals.
Aston and Mr. Martinez had followed Reese out of the master bedroom of the two bedroom penthouse and into the dining room. Drew had been out on the small balcony looking out at the Boston skyline. Phillip stared at her for a moment before stepping quietly to her side. He remembered her looking up at him and smiling.
"The view is amazing," she said softly.
"Yeah," he said as he looked at her. He saw her look down before looking back out at the night sky.
"It's a bit too high, for my taste, though," she said taking a breath as she took a shaky step back.
He placed his hand on her waist, keeping her steady. He looked down at her, his chest expanding.
"We, uh," she said, a little wistful, "should join the others."
He held her there for a moment, before getting a hold of his faculties, "Right."
o-o-o
Friday, 29 June, 10:10, EDT, almost six months ago
Phillip smiled out at the crowd before turning to his right. She was dressed in a burgundy thigh-high dress. He canted his head at the 6'1" brown-haired blue-eyed model. The daughter of the team's owner smiled at him. She gently took hold of the frames of his sunglasses and removed them. She looked into his eyes and pulled his face down to meet hers. She kissed him and to his surprise he was kissing her back.
Phil opened his eyes after finally realizing what had happened. He took a step back. Lisa turned to the crowd and waved as the double-decker bus started to move slowly forward as the parade kicked off.
"What was that?" Phillip asked in a whisper as he, too, waved at the crowd.
"I figured I'd give you a second chance," she said smirking at him.
He laughed. "I think we've both moved on," he said, canting an eyebrow.
"Which famous slut are you with now?" she goaded him.
"Wow," he said, smirking back at her. He took another step back. "Sorry, Lisa. I'm not interested."
He turned and walked back to where the kids were. This was going to be a long parade and off-season.
o-o-o
Saturday, 6 October, 21:45, HST almost 3 months ago
Phillip looked around the table at the bachelors and their dates; girlfriends or women they got to know during the fall camp trip. He sat sipping his glass of water, reflecting on the successful training camp in Hawai'i.
o-o-o
He spent the off-season utilizing the fitness center in his building to train. Phillip left the contract negotiations to his agent. He ran the streets of Boston to keep his cardio up. Every Wednesday he volunteered to read to the children at Massachusetts General Hospital.
He and Director Cain had spoken on many occasions after his sessions with the children. Phillip had even asked the older gentleman about the English doctor he had interviewed earlier that year.
o-o-o
Wednesday, 22 August, 10:30, EDT almost five months ago
"Mr. Martinez," the Director of the hospital shook the basketball player's hand.
"Director Cain," Phillip nodded at the older gentleman. "Nice seeing you again."
"The nurses mentioned there was a celebrity volunteering on a normal basis," the head of the hospital joked.
Phillip laughed. "The kids keep me young at heart," he said, smiling.
"Buy you a cup of coffee," the older man said as Phillip nodded and followed him to the cafeteria.
o-o-o
Phillip would learn that day that Drew had been the best candidate for the Emergency Room position. The director had been apprised of the Squib doctor's medical emergency through the hospital's Muggle liaison. Phillip's breath hitched for a moment when he heard the director talk of Wizarding lingo. The older gentleman shared that the young lady had called him at the end of May, quite apologetic about not being able to accept the position. The position went to the next capable candidate who was not as pleasant as the young man's friend.
Phillip kept himself busy during the summer. It kept his mind off of his guilt. There were times when he would scroll through his contacts and tap on the English woman's number. He would sometimes compose a text but could never bring himself to press send, discarding each message. He would often lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling in the darkness as he thought of her and where on earth she was hiding herself.
If she had wanted for him to contact her, she would have told him which post she had accepted. At least, this was what he rationalized.
o-o-o
The Boston Celtics held their fall training camp in Honolulu, Hawai'i playing exhibition games against the Los Angeles Clippers. He enjoyed playing in front of the local fans again. At times, he would look up at the student section, where Drew and Aston would sit to cheer the University of Hawai'i basketball team when he played.
Phillip had even visited the Queen's Medical Center Emergency Room to speak with some of Drew's former colleagues during his off time from team activities. They weren't forthcoming if they knew of Drew's new job location. 'It was just as well,' he thought.
o-o-o
Saturday, 6 October, 21:55, HST almost five months ago
The married players had left with their families earlier that afternoon. The younger, single players were going to fly out at 11 am Sunday morning. Phillip suggested that they have dinner together; although it was more for the younger players to keep out of trouble. The four remaining players and their dates sat around their table in the Hilton Hawaiian Village's The Mossy Knoll, the three-year-old restaurant owned by the English Squib.
Caldwell Thompson, the rookie forward and the woman he had met earlier that night had sat next to Nobel Rodrigues, the two-year veteran guard, and his girlfriend. Anthony Hallowell, the five-year veteran back-up point guard, and his girlfriend sat next to Phillip and the daughter of the team's owner, Lisa Randle, who seemed a bit clingy.
They were at the tail end of their dining experience when several members of the waitstaff brought over desserts and coffee and tea. The restaurant staff placed a dessert dish and offered the hot beverage to each of the dinner guests.
"I'm sorry, we didn't order this," Phillip said.
"Compliments of the chef," one of the waitstaff said as their boss approached behind her.
"I hope dinner was to your liking?" the dark-haired executive chef and owner smiled at the dinner guests.
Phillip shot straight up and hugged his old friend. "I didn't think you actually worked in your own restaurant."
"You caught me on a good night," Aston said, smiling.
Phillip turned to the rest of the table to introduce his old friend. "Guys, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine. This is Aston Baguio. We went to high school together in London."
Phillip introduced the whole group to Aston as the restaurateur shook all their hands. Lisa stuck her hand out limply. Aston smiled to himself as he shook her hand. He looked over at Phillip for a split second and laughed to himself.
"Well, I hope your stay in Hawai'i was a pleasant one," Aston said politely. "Were you able to get any sites in?"
They all shook their heads. "It was a nice stay, but I kinda want to get back home," Caldwell had said. "I'm glad we're catching that flight at 11 am tomorrow morning."
"I'm sure the fans appreciated both teams putting on a show," Aston said. "I'll leave you to your desserts. Nice meeting all of you."
Aston nodded at Phillip before leaving for the kitchen.
o-o-o
Sunday, 7 October, 09:00, HST almost 3 months ago
"Uh, shouldn't you be going through airport security right about now," the restaurateur laughed as he opened his front door, shirtless and in a pair of board shorts.
Phillip laughed and shrugged as his old friend let him in the door. "I told the team rep I'd be catching a later flight," the professional athlete said as he followed Aston into the kitchen.
"Have you eaten yet?" Aston asked as he scooped out the leftover white rice from his rice pot.
"Your restaurant was closed," Phillip said canting his eyebrow.
"Yeah, I give my guys the Sunday and Monday off," Aston said. He nodded at Phillip as the basketball player sat down on one of the stools around the kitchen island, "Shoyu fried rice, bacon and eggs?"
Phillip nodded as he poured himself some coffee from the drip coffee maker. Phillip watched the chef deftly cook the breakfast items.
"I didn't know you and Lisa got back together," Aston said as he plated two servings.
Phillip almost choked on his coffee. "We're not."
"You two looked a bit cozy last night," Aston said shrugging. He took a bite of his fried rice.
Phillip laughed before taking a bite of his over medium egg. He took a sip of his coffee, "Lisa's clingy. She was just flirting."
"That young dude was staring daggers at you two."
"Well, I'm sure Caldwell and Lisa will get along well."
Aston laughed. The pair started to reminisce about their youth. They talked of their time in daycare, their days at Wellesley and their college years.
o-o-o
Sunday, 7 October, 10:30, HST almost 3 months ago
Aston took a sip of his coffee. "So what time's your flight back east?"
"I haven't booked it yet," Phillip laughed as he, too, took a sip of his own coffee.
Aston nodded as he grabbed Phillip's empty plate and brought his own to the sink. Aston turned back to his old friend, "Why don't you just Floo home?"
Phillip gulped down his coffee that was in his mouth and took in a breath before composing himself. "I don't think the Malfoys would appreciate it if I went to the beach house just to use their chimney," Phillip said slowly.
"You can use mine," Aston said matter-of-factly, shrugging as he dried his hands after washing the dishes.
Phillip laughed nervously, "Mr. Malfoy mentioned the fireplace had to be connected to some network."
"The Floo network?" Aston asked.
"Yeah," Phillip studied his face for a moment.
Aston shrugged as he nodded at the brick fireplace, quite out of place in a temperate climate like that in Hawai'i, "Dad had the Ministry connect it five years ago when I moved in."
Phillip felt his face flush for a moment as he processed Aston's statement. Aston smiled at him and nodded.
"So you're from the Wizarding world?" Phillip asked.
Aston smiled and nodded his head. He pulled the recognizable green box out of the freezer. "Come on. You look like you need a drink," Aston said calmly as he placed the case of bottled Heineken on the kitchen island.
"It's 10:30 in the morning," Phillip said incredulously as he watched Aston head towards his bedroom.
"Well, it's 4:30 in the afternoon in your neck of the woods," Aston yelled from his bedroom.
Phillip took some time to digest what had just transpired. He looked up as Aston entered the living room with a University of Hawai'i athletics t-shirt on, rubber slippers on his feet, and a smile on his face. Aston nodded at his friend as he picked up the case of beer.
"Grab your stuff, friend," Aston said as Phillip grabbed his luggage, "We'll Floo back to Boston. You can fill me in on what happened six months ago."
Phillip blew out a breath as he nodded. Aston kindled the green flames in the fireplace. The two friends walked into the flames and Aston called out the local bar's name before they both disappeared.
They stepped out of the local fireplace in Da Imu and entered one of the international fireplaces to head to the continental U.S. Aston nodded at Phillip as they stepped out of the fireplace in the Boston Wizarding pub.
"Shall we catch a cab to your place?" Aston asked as they exited the pub and walked into the Muggle world. Phillip laughed and nodded as he walked towards the yellow cabs located in front of the Muggle establishments just meters away.
o-o-o
Sunday, 7 October, 16:45 EDT almost 3 months ago
The cab ride was a short 10 minute one; no traffic on a Sunday morning. The elevator ride up to the penthouse was a quiet one. Phillip opened the door for them. Aston headed straight for the kitchen to put the case of beer into the freezer, but not before taking a couple of frosted bottles out of the carton. He also nodded as he pulled a pack of frozen top sirloin steaks and placed them into the sink to defrost under running water. Phillip made a beeline for his bedroom to store his luggage.
Aston handed Phillip an open bottle of Heineken as he joined the chef in the kitchen. They both blew out a breath before taking a sip from their bottles.
"So, you're from the Wizarding world," Phillip said again in wonder.
Aston laughed, "Yes."
"Wait," Phillip shook his head, "That time when Drew and I came to the apartment to say that I was moving in with her during freshmen year, you made comments as if you didn't know what the hell Drew was talking about."
Aston shrugged his shoulders, "Drew kept my secret. I figured I should keep hers."
"You knew about Drew?" Phillip studied his old friend. "Since when?"
"She let the cat out of the bag during that blind date you set us up on," Aston said as he took a sip. The pair laughed. Aston continued, "Turns out Drew's parents and mine attended boarding school at the same time."
"Hogwarts?" Phillip asked as Aston nodded his head.
"Dad mentioned about the craziness that happened back in March in London," Aston said as it was his turn to study Phillip's face. "Welcome to our world."
Phillip breathed deeply. "Turns out, I'm from two of the evilest clans that existed in the Wizarding world."
Aston canted his head for a moment. He nodded at his friend to continue.
"I knew I was adopted. Dad and mom adopted me from a London orphanage. At least my birth mom did me that favor," Phillip started. "I'm the grandson of Cecil Schield, son of his daughter, Roxanne. My birth dad was Kellen Tanner. I'm told he's from an old Wizarding family himself. "Mr. Schield wanted me to avenge our family by hurting the Malfoys," Phillip took a sip from his half-empty bottle.
"Dad said that you helped to thwart the new Death Eater movement," Aston said as he took another swig of beer.
Phillip laughed. He gulped as he looked straight as into Aston's face. "I tortured Drew. I was this close to killing her," the athlete said as he put his thumb and forefinger close together.
"I heard there was a memory spell involved," Aston said, finishing off his bottle as he walked to the refrigerator. He grabbed two more bottles, popping the bottle tops off and then placed one of the bottles in front of Phillip.
Phillip looked down for a moment before looking back up. "It was a Category 5. I'm told nobody has ever recovered fully from it. I'm the first; whatever that means."
"Hey," Aston said looking at him. "You got hold of your faculties in time. You didn't kill her, right?"
"My grandfather was trying to shoot me when Drew stepped in front of me," Phillip gulped. "She almost died that night."
"It wasn't your fault, Phillip."
"Really? I have evil in my genes, Aston."
"There is no genetic marker for evil, Phil," Aston reassured him.
Phil laughed. "Mr. Malfoy tried to convince me that we're not born evil; that it's learned."
"He's right," Aston said. "My Pureblood mum was from a family of Death Eaters. Then she met my Muggle-born dad at Hogwarts. If your sentiment is right that would make me just as evil.
"In fact, Mr. Malfoy and his family believed in those evil ways for a long time," Aston continued, "That is until he and Drew's mum got together. Evil is not in the genes, Phil. There is not one evil bone in Drew's body."
Phillip laughed, "True."
They both took swigs from their second bottles. The pair was quiet for a moment, letting what was said register.
"You haven't heard from her lately, have you?" Philip asked.
Aston took another sip. He shook his head. "Not since June when she told me she was transferring from Queen's," Aston said, "Didn't she take that post at her mum's hospital?"
Phillip shook his head, "No, I checked their website. Some bloke got the job in June."
Aston nodded his head, "How about the Boston job?"
Phillip laughed, "No, I volunteer at the hospital she interviewed at. The director told me that Drew declined the post."
"Ah," Aston nodded his head as if he knew nothing, "Well, have you called or texted her lately?"
"I figured I'd give her some space. She probably hates my guts right now. She hasn't contacted me yet, either."
"I'm sure she'll come around when she's up to it," Aston said before raising his bottle. "To Drew."
"Drew," Phillip said as they clinked their bottlenecks together before downing almost half of the bottle.
"I think it's time to grill some steak," Aston said as he started to prep the pack of three steaks. "Hey, turn the tele on. There's gotta be some football on."
Phillip turned the television in the kitchen on. "NFL football okay?" Phillip asked. They both laughed.
"That'll work," Aston said as they settled around the island prepping for an early dinner.
o-o-o
Saturday, 8 December, 11:00 PDT, one month ago
Phillip had gotten the call an hour earlier. Aston had had business in the Los Angeles area and wondered if Phillip was free for lunch before the Celtics game later that evening. Phillip had agreed to meet his old friend at the corner of South Main Street and East Adams Street, a block away from the general hospital in busy South Los Angeles.
His wait was a short one. Aston had stepped out of the hole-in-the-wall establishment.
"Hey, I got us a table and ordered some appetizers," Aston said as he nodded his head toward the door. Phillip smiled and followed him in.
Phillip was surprised to see how bustling the place was. Multiple television screens with different sports being broadcasted were in all parts of the bar. Aston led him to a table in a fairly empty area.
"English football section?" Phillip laughed as he sat down.
"Yeah, I figured it would be a quiet area," Aston laughed as he sipped on his iced tea.
"Iced tea?" Phillip asked as he took a sip of his own drink.
"Well," Aston shrugged, "You do have a game later in the afternoon."
They both laughed. They started to dig into their chicken wings as they watched the Chelsea versus Newcastle game on the television.
"So what's this business you had to attend to?" Phillip asked.
"Well, Dad and I were looking into opening up a Muggle pub a few blocks from here," Aston said.
"That's cool," Phil nodded as he drank from his glass.
"Yeah, I thought so," Aston said. "So you guys are up against the bottom dwellers tonight."
"Don't knock the Lakers," Phil said as he ate one of the chicken wings. "They always give us a hard time."
Aston said nodding as they watched the Blues score a goal. "Here's to having a good clean game tonight."
Phil nodded as they raised their glasses before taking a sip. "That's some good iced tea," Phillip said.
They both laughed as they continued with their lunch. They hung out for two hours eating and catching up. Their conversation never touched on the young doctor.
Phil noticed Aston nodding at the waitress. Aston turned to Phil, "So what time is shootaround?"
"I don't have to be at Staples until 5:30," Phil said as he wiped his mouth as Aston accepted the bill carrier. Phil held out his hand, "Here, let me get that."
"Well," Aston said as he placed his credit card into the holder. He smiled at his old friend, "If your bank honors galleons, then be my guest."
"Galleons?" Phil asked as Aston handed the bill carrier to their waitress. Phil finally noticed the television screens that telecasted Quidditch matches.
Aston shrugged. "Your eyes get trained to see the Wizarding stuff, slowly but surely."
"Yeah," Phil said, almost in awe as he noticed all of the Wizarding robes hanging on the backs of chairs.
"Come on," Aston said standing up as the waitress handed him his receipt and credit card. He signed the slip and added a large tip before smiling at the young lady. He turned back to Phillip and nodded their exit to the foyer.
Phillip finally noticed the fireplaces lining the walls of the foyer. He blew out a breath as he saw several Wizarding folk stepping out of the fireplaces.
"I gotta head back to the islands for today's lunch prep," Aston said as he extended his hand.
Phillip nodded as he shook Aston's hand. "It's too bad you can't make it to the game."
"I'm sure you'll do fine without my presence," Aston said as both of them laughed. "Break a leg."
Phil nodded as he watched the restaurateur enter the fireplace and Flooed. Phil blew out a breath before walking out of the establishment.
'Chasing Angels,' he thought to himself as he looked up at the sign above the door. He laughed to himself as he walked down the street to catch a cab back to the hotel.
o-o-o
Saturday, 8 December, 19:31 PDT, one month ago
The Celtics maintained a 23 point lead with eight minutes left in the second period. Caldwell Thompson and Phillip were in the lineup. Thompson, not known for his defense had difficulties defending his counterpart; the Laker forward scored the last six points.
Phillip was open on the wing and he called for the ball. Thompson attempted to take the two defenders on without success. One of the defenders filched the ball and dribbled quickly down the court. Phillip pursued and jumped ready to block the ball with his left hand. He felt a hard knock against his left hip twisting his leg before barreling into the signage behind the basket.
For a moment Phillip felt numb. He took in a breath and felt the pain surge down his left shoulder. He had also heard the familiar pop in his left knee; the same one he heard over thirteen years ago during that high school playoff game.
Everything seemed muffled. The team's trainers surrounded him.
"Phillip," Doctor Milton Thiessen, the team's head trainer said, "What hurts?"
"I heard a pop in my left knee," Phillip blew out a breath. "I can't feel my left arm?"
The trainers prodded his left knee which made the power forward wince. He tried to breathe through his mouth. The trainers helped the young man to a sitting position.
"Okay, Phil," Dr. Thiessen began, "We're going to help you off the court and to the locker room, alright."
Phil nodded as the trainers helped him up. Phillip grunted in pain, "Holy shit, that hurt."
He put little or no pressure on his left leg. The trainers slowly helped him off the court.
"Alright, Phil," Dr. Thiessen said. "I think we should go straight to a medical facility."
"That bad, huh?" Phillip said, looking straight at the doctor who shrugged. The other trainer ran to call the EMTs for assistance.
o-o-o
Saturday, 8 December, 20:00 PDT, one month ago
The closest hospital whose ER was available was a twenty-minute drive south of the Staples Center. The San Augustin General Hospital Emergency Room attendants helped to wheel the gurney that the thirty-year-old athlete lay on into the hospital.
"What have we got here?" Doctor Guillermo Sacude, the emergency room doctor began.
"Phillip Martinez, thirty-year-old athlete, possible subluxation of the left shoulder and knee injury," one of the EMTs said.
"Okay," Dr. Sacude nodded his head at the patient. "How much pain are you in right now, Phillip?"
"It hurts a lot, Doc," Phillip answered.
"Okay, we're going to get some x-rays done and then we'll see about alleviating the pain."
The patient nodded as the ER team rolled him into one of the elevators that would lead them downstairs to radiology.
o-o-o
Saturday, 8 December, 20:30 PDT, one month ago
Phillip looked up to the ceiling as the Dr. Sacude and his team wheeled him out of the elevator leading to the ER. They wheeled him into one of the consulting rooms.
Nurse José Dela Cruz helped the young man to a sitting position. He was slightly surprised to see Lisa Randle seated next to the team doctor and Raymond Brooks, his agent.
"So, am I gonna live, Doc?" Phillip asked.
The local doctor chuckled as he turned on the television screen connected to the network. He nodded at the other occupants in the room.
"The film shows a lot," Dr. Sacude began. "Phil's left shoulder is dislocated. That should take between twelve and sixteen weeks to recover fully.
"The knee is going to take a longer recovery time," Dr. Sacude continued. "It looks like a full tear of the Anterior-Cruciate Ligament. It will take nine to twelve months to recover from that injury."
"Thank you, doctor," Dr. Thiessen said as he stood up. "But I think we'll have Phillip get a second opinion once we get back home."
The local medical staff seemed to take in a collective breath. Dr. Sacude nodded. "That's the usual practice. For now," he waved in the technicians that wheeled in several carts, "we'll find a brace that fits and get you some pain medicine."
o-o-o
Saturday, 8 December, 20:55 PDT, one month ago
Phillip leaned on the crutch under his right arm as he undressed, ready to take his shower. It had been a long evening already.
He allowed the warm water to run over his body for a long while before grabbing his body wash to wash up. He remained in the shower for what seemed like an eternity.
He shut the water off and opened up the shower curtain, but quickly grabbed a hold of it trying to cover himself up. "What are you doing here?"
The brunette model smiled at her ex holding out the bath towel to him. "Oh come on, Phil," she said smirking at him. "I've seen you in a lot less."
Phillip took hold of the towel and dried himself as best as he could considering the awkward balancing act he had to do with his injured left side. He wrapped the towel around his waist before opening the curtain again.
He slowly exited the shower and took hold of the crutch. "You know, Thompson's probably looking for you right now."
"Hmm," she said as she ran her fingertips over his midriff.
"I think you should go," Phil said as he gently took hold of her wrist. He blew out a slow breath.
She canted her eyebrow before turning around in a huff. He walked to the bathroom door as he watched her exit his hotel room. He shut his eyes for a moment, wondering how he was possibly going to get through the next year of recovery. He slowly ambulated to the front door and locked the security lock. 'No unwanted late night visits,' he thought to himself as he headed for bed.
o-o-o
Tuesday, 25 December, 08:30 EDT, two weeks ago
Phillip rolled onto his right side and struggled to sit up, his usual routine since suffering his injuries. He took in a deep breath as he picked up his mobile. He checked his message box which was full of Christmas texts from different well-wishers. But not the one that he had wished for.
He slowly got out of bed to start his day. He headed for the bathroom to shower. He was left in Boston while the rest of the team was spending their Christmas holiday in Houston, playing the Rockets. In the back of his mind, he considered himself lucky, allowing himself time to think.
He looked at himself in the mirror, looking a bit scraggly as he ran his right hand through his facial hair. He blew out a breath before grabbing his razor as he thought about how his life was moving as if in slow motion the past couple of weeks.
o-o-o
Monday, 10 December, 10:05 PDT
The Imaging staff at Massachusetts General helped him onto the Magnetic Resonance Imaging table. He looked upwards trying to settle his thoughts.
"Alright, Mr. Martinez," Joseph Camarillo, the technician nodded at him. "My name's Joe. I'll be the lead technician for you today. The scan will take a while. We'll need you to stay as still as possible. We're monitoring your vitals from outside, okay."
Phil nodded. The medical staff cleared the room. It seemed moments before the table moved him into the cylinder.
"Alright, Mr. Martinez, we're going to start," a voice said over the loudspeaker, "Just relax."
Phil heard the whirring of the machine as he shut his eyes. He found himself elsewhere.
He felt the soft touch on his right knee and for a moment he felt a calmness. He looked at his knee and then at the young lady next to him. He slapped her hand off.
"Do you trust me?" she asked as the scene changed. He looked down at the blood spilling from his abdomen. He watched as her hands entered the wound.
"Mr. Martinez," a muffled voice called. The voice became clearer as the technician called, "Phillip, this is Joe. I need you to slow your breathing down, okay. Heartrate's a bit high."
Phillip's eyes flashed open. He finally realized where he was. He blew out slow breaths. He kept his eyes wide open the rest of the time in the MRI tunnel.
o-o-o
The Monday second opinion confirmed the Los Angeles medical staff's first opinion. He was immediately scheduled for a Tuesday arthroscopic knee surgery and along with that came the mandatory physical therapy sessions at the team facilities.
As much as the PT sessions hurt, he welcomed the alone think time. His thoughts always tracked back to the grey-eyed brunette doctor.
o-o-o
Tuesday, 25 December, 09:00 EDT, two weeks ago
Phillip had stepped out of the bathroom after showering and shaving. He looked more like himself as he got ready for his cheat day.
He cooked himself some breakfast; over medium eggs, bacon and toast with coffee which he ate on the couch in front of the big screen television in his living room. He sat watching the morning news as he sipped on his coffee.
He took another bite of his bacon as he picked up his mobile. He took in a breath. He clicked on the message icon and started to compose a text.
o-o-o
Wishing you and yours the most merriest of Christmases. Miss you guys lots. Happy holidays to the rest of the Four Horsemen!
o-o-o
He had stared at the text message for a good five minutes before adding "guys" and the Four Horsemen tag. He added Aston's and Dean's mobile numbers to the recipients. He blew out a breath as he ensured the text didn't sound so personal. He hit the send button, texting the three former English Language Arts classmates.
He waited for a response but knew he shouldn't hold his breath. He couldn't blame her for not responding so quickly or at all. He switched the television to ESPN; hoping that the early coverage of college football bowl games would help to distract him.
o-o-o
Monday, 31 December, 23:40 EDT
Phillip was dressed in a suit and tie as he attended the team's annual New Year's Eve gathering in the third-floor banquet room at the Hilton Boston Downtown. He had attended alone, content with the decision to come to the function without a date.
Lisa and Caldwell Thompson were arm in arm for most of the night. Phillip was alright with that. He smiled to himself as he drank the rest of the champagne in his champagne flute. He stepped out onto the balcony for a moment for some fresh air and a chance to reflect on the long year coming to an end.
He braved the cold as he leaned on his non-surgically repaired leg. He would take a figurative leap of faith. He pulled up her contact information on his mobile. He took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts, rehearsing what to say to her, especially if she picked up on her end.
He silently hoped she wouldn't answer as he heard the dial tone. He gulped as the line clicked and her voice sounded on the other end. His breath hitched for a moment, then realized it was just her voicemail greeting.
"Hey Drew," Phillip began. "It's, uh, it's me, Phil. Obviously, it's me, you saw the caller ID. Anyways, I, uh, just wanted to call to wish you a Happy New Year.
"I know I, um, haven't been able to talk to you in a long while," Phillip said. "It's been a busy nine months.
"That's, um, probably a crap excuse, huh? I, um, I bumped into Aston during our fall camp in Hawai'i. He, uh, knows about our connection to the Wizarding World. He mentioned you had already transferred from Queen's," Phillip continued. He paused for a moment. "I, uh, hope you're enjoying life at your new post. I'm sure you're finding success there.
"I'm trying to rehab," he said slowly. "Tore my ACL and dislocated a shoulder three weeks ago. Suffice it to say, it's been a painful holiday season so far.
"Almost wished you were close by to do your magic," he laughed. "Just kidding."
Phillip closed his eyes for a moment, pausing, wishing he had the nerve to tell her his true feelings. His voice cracked, "I miss hearing your voice. I even miss hearing the hint of disdain when I make that early morning-after phone call.
"I just wanted to call to wish you a great holiday season," he said after a long pause. "Happy New Year, Drew."
"I love you," he said, hearing the click on the other end, not knowing if the last part of his message was recorded. He took in a deep breath, which for whatever reason, hurt. He gulped as he stared at his mobile screen. The atomic clock read 11:45 pm. He looked up into the night sky and suddenly felt the crispness of the winter air. He returned to the warmth of the ballroom.
o-o-o
Monday, 31 December, 23:55 EDT
Camera flashes, from personal and media devices, flashed as the anticipation of the turn of the new year flowed through the room. Phillip pulled another flute full of champagne from a tray of one of the waitstaff as he watched the collective merriment.
"Let's get a shot of the whole group before midnight," one of the photographers instructed.
The group began to get closer together as the media instructed them. Phillip found himself right next to his ex and her new boyfriend. Phil inwardly groaned as the media posed the large group. Multiple photographs were taken of the group as the clock struck midnight.
Everyone began to wish each other, 'Happy New Year!' Acquaintances gave each other pecks on the cheek while known couples kissed more intimately. The chaos of the scene was notable. Phillip turned as Lisa did. He shrugged at her smiling. He leaned in to kiss her cheek. She turned her head slightly, contacting his lips with hers, kissing him full on the mouth.
Phillip was surprised. He knew the paparazzi were already snapping pictures. He took a step back and nodded at Lisa.
"Happy new year," he said, his tone quite even, as he left her standing there.
Phillip made his rounds, wishing everyone a, 'happy new year,' as he made his way to the exit. He paced for a moment as he stepped into the foyer before heading to the elevators. 'This was going to be a long year,' he thought to himself as he rode the elevator down.
o-o-o
Thursday, 3 January, 10:30 EDT
Phillip found himself in the office of the team owner. He had gotten the call from Mr. Lester Randle's secretary the day before. He waited patiently, sitting on the couch in front of the owner's desk, reading an ESPN magazine that was on the coffee table.
Phillip had an inkling as to why he was called to the team's facility. Phillip saw the TMZ report on the speculations of his kiss between Lisa Randle and the injured forward. There was nothing to the kiss; he knew that in his heart. Now, to convince upper management of the non-indiscretion.
Phillip stood up as the door to the office opened. The grey-haired older gentleman shook hands with his employee.
"So, how's the leg holding up?" Mr. Randle asked as he took the seat on the couch opposite of Phillip.
"It's still a bit painful," Phillip said as he sat down. "But it's holding up."
"Contract talks have been a bit hairy, don't you think?" Mr. Randle smiled coyly at the younger man.
Phillip chuckled. "Well, I try to leave that sort of stuff to my agent."
Mr. Randle shrugged, "He's a ballbuster."
Phillip laughed. "So, why am I really here, Sir?"
"Well, training staff aren't seeing the progress they would like to see," Mr. Randle averted Phillip's eyes, "I think we'd rather have you not join the team during road trips to focus more on rehab."
Phillip nodded slowly and then looked up at the older man. He canted his head for a moment and then smiled. "I was, uh, thinking the same thing. I need to concentrate on my rehabilitation. I'm heading home to London to rehab," Phillip said, matter-of-factly, fibbing a little about his plans.
Mr. Randle canted an eyebrow. "Okay. All the way to England?"
"Well, it is about the rehab as well as getting away from distractions, Sir. I'm sure that's really what all this is about, isn't it?"
Mr. Randle adjusted his tie. The older man smiled as he stood up, "Well then I guess that's that then. Make sure your medical staff is communicating with our training staff."
Phillip stood up and nodded. He extended his hand to the old man who shook it. Phillip left his boss's office with a slight smirk on his face.
He blew out a breath as he reached the elevator. 'So, I guess I'm going home,' he thought to himself and then smiled as the elevator doors opened.
o-o-o
Sunday, 6 January, 19:00, GMT, present day
Phillip stretched as he blinked, trying to get used to the low light in the room. For a moment, he almost forgot where he was. He sat up in bed and pushed off his covers. He exited his room and walked to the bathroom to get ready for the day. He looked down at his watch, which was still on Boston time. He looked up at the digital clock that his father had kept in the bathroom; 7 pm. He quickly reset his wristwatch to account for the time difference. He blew out another breath as he looked in the mirror before he headed to the shower.
Sunday, 6 January, 19:30, GMT, present day
Phillip changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt after his shower. He cooked a package of Sapporo Ichiban beef flavored ramen and took a seat on the couch in the living room and turned on the television. He watched highlights on ESPN as he ate.
Even with the refreshing shower, he had taken earlier, he still felt jetlagged. He watched the English football highlights as he finished his noodles.
He didn't realize how long he had been watching the tele until he looked at his wristwatch. It was nearing the midnight hour, 11:48 pm. He shakily stood up with the aid of his crutch and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
o-o-o
Sunday, 6 January, 23:55, GMT, present day
He walked into the darkness of his childhood bedroom, the ingrained map in his head told him where all the obstacles were. He turned the switch of the lamp on his nightstand. He sighed as the sight of his packed suitcase caught his eye. 'I'll unpack that later,' he thought to himself. He smiled as he took hold of his backpack and sat down on the edge of his bed. He opened up the main compartment of the bag and pulled out the two objects.
He ran his finger over the photo in the antique frame and took in a breath. He placed the frame onto his nightstand. He gingerly held the jewelry box in his palm. He placed it next to the photo, not able to bring himself to opening the box to look at the three-carat ring.
He flopped down onto his bed and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. He yawned as he turned his head toward his nightstand. He finally noticed his mobile. 'Wow,' he thought to himself, 'that's a miracle.' Not once had he accessed his phone that day.
He picked it up and noticed he didn't have any messages. He laughed out loud. He switched his phone off of airplane mode and rolled his eyes. He had fifty-eight unanswered text messages. He blew out a breath as he quickly skimmed each message starting with the most recent, taking only a brief ten seconds to read before going to the next one.
His breath hitched as he reached the first unread message in his inbox. He looked at the timestamp, 8 am., on the reply to his initial text thread that he had sent out right before his flight took off for home. He smiled as he read the reply, "I miss you, too."
He gulped, for once not knowing what to do in the sophisticated game of courting. He read the text again and again.
"Okay, Phil, relax," he told himself. "Take it slow. You don't want to scare her off."
He placed his mobile on his nightstand. He switched his lamplight off and just stared at the ceiling until he drifted off to sleep, picturing the grey-eyed former classmate smiling back at him.