Chapter 23.

EPOV

It doesn't take me long to find her. As soon as I look up, there she is, looking radiant as ever and staring right back at me. Isabella sits next to a few of the girls, a warm smile on her face. Even though there's no grand gesture acknowledging each other, I feel connected to her. The fact that she's here for me, with me, is one I've never even dreamed would feel so good.

After sending her one final, small smile, I focus my attention back on the game.

This game against Wolfsburg isn't a particularly important one. We're pretty much set on second place in the league, regardless of the outcome tonight. Of course we don't want to put a mediocre performance, but with the Champions League final looming, the local league is hardly on anyone's mind.

For me however, this game means so much more. I am very aware of my situation, and of what Coach and I agreed would be my role tonight, yet I can't contain myself. I won't be able to take it easy today — not while she's watching.

The one game that Isabella comes to see me play is not going to be one with a half assed performance on my part.

We get a good start when Seth serendipitously gets one in on the 5th minute. Unfortunately, it doesn't build up to anything else. It was an effortless try, and we don't manage to create much more after that.

In theory, Wolfsburg shouldn't give us too many problems, but it seems like our defense is half asleep. I find myself having to stretch to cover for several slips that almost translate to goals before the 30th minute.

I try my best to keep the attack going on the right flank. I want us to secure our 1-0 lead until halftime at least, especially since Coach insisted I only play for 60 minutes.

Regardless of how hard I try, I can't cover for everyone, and on the 38th minute, Wolfsburg scores, followed by a few chaotic minutes where they score again on the 41st and the 43rd, leaving everyone speechless.

I'm pissed.

Emmett yells at everyone on our way to the tunnels, and in the locker rooms, Coach does some yelling too. I can't do any yelling; I just try to keep focused on breathing and stretching my leg.

Before we go back in, I approach Coach. There is no way I'd let him sub me off when we're losing 3-1 — not when Isabella is on those stands, watching me. He agrees to check at the 60 minute mark to see how I feel.

It seems the yelling had some effect and everyone finally seems focused on the game. Feeling more secure with our defense, I start playing more aggressively on the attack, aided by Seth who shifts to the right and seems intent on making something of this game as well.

It takes a while however, and when the 60th minute comes along, we're still losing 3-1. I pretend I don't hear Coach the first couple times he calls me. I'm not a good liar, and Coach knows me very well. Still, when I can't ignore him anymore, I wave him off, signaling I'm okay, in spite of the twinge I've started to feel in my hip, even under the painkillers.

I don't dare to glance at Isabella now. She knows of my agreement with Coach, and I am sure she'll disapprove of me playing the whole 90 minutes.

The thing is, after the Champions League Final, I don't know how long I'll be out for, or what chance I will have to play for her… to play at all. So I stay — I stay, and I give it my all.

At least Seth is cooperating. He does not give up either and on the 71st min, he scores through my cross. The kid is amazing. He brings the energy out of nowhere, and on the 88th minute, he wins a free kick and scores it flawlessly.

Everyone seems content with the draw. I, however, am not. I keep trying, keep pushing, but at the final whistle, the game ends 3-3.

I am a bit frustrated but okay with the overall result. I, at least, did my absolute best.

Coach says a few words while I ice my hip… not that it helps… not today. I can feel it already as I cool down, today is going to hurt, and only a shot will help.

My teammates hover over me. Apparently, I outran everyone on the team, which hasn't happened since my injury, and everyone is making a huge deal out of it. I don't pay much attention to any of it, and once they settle down, I wait for the medic to take care of Seth first — who seemed to have pulled his abs during the game.

I sit with my leg stretched, muscles tense, and my entire body sore. It's all quickly forgotten though when Isabella walks in, flanked by Alice, and their eyes roam the room. Alice points at Emmett, who is at the other side of the room. Isabella smiles politely at her, but I know that smile — that's not who she was looking for at all.

She still walks to him first, and I try not to stare as he hugs her, but I can't help the sinking feeling in my stomach. I look down, trying not to intrude, but it takes a monumental effort to do so. How did I manage to look at them before? I honestly don't know anymore.

When I look up, I'm met by warm brown eyes. On its own, my body shoots up from the bench, forgetting about my hip altogether. The pain that fires from where my hand tightly grips my side, up my back and down my leg, serves as a reminder of my condition.

I try to keep a straight face for her and stand still. It's all in vain though because her eyes immediately show concern. I take a deep breath while she moves closer.

She stands right in front of me and crosses her arms over her chest, cocking her head to the side. "Is that your version of taking it easy?" she asks. She's trying to be mad at me, but her melted chocolate eyes betray her, showing nothing but warmth and concern.

God, how I wish I could hug her right now.

One quick look at everyone around us, I divert quickly from that thought.

"I guess I got a little carried away." I shrug with a smile, trying to be as casual as I can. I just need to get the cortisone shot so I can get through dinner and then hopefully spend some time with her.

She sighs, not amused by my attempt at a joke. "Are you okay?"

My hand leaves my hip and reaches towards her. As subtly as I can manage, I run a quick finger down her arm, over the denim of her jacket, desperate for some kind of contact.

"I will be," I say, trying to rein myself in. I did not anticipate that not touching her would be so difficult. "Was your flight okay?"

She nods and looks around, a bit nervous perhaps… distracted, for sure. This isn't easy for her either.

My eyes follow hers as she spots Alice who is blatantly staring right at us.

"We'll catch up over dinner," I offer with a smile, getting her attention back to me.

She smiles back as our eyes meet, trying to communicate everything we can't say with words right now.

"Okay," she says with a tiny nod. Her hand reaches for mine, giving it a little squeeze.

She leaves after our short exchange, and I slump back onto the bench with a grunt.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Fortunately, the time with the medics goes by quickly, despite the pain. They do everything in their power. I even get the cortisone shot, but nothing seems to be really working today, and the constant pain emanating from my hip is barely manageable when I make it to the bus.

Seth is in my seat animatedly chatting with Emmett. I make my silent way to them, all my energy and focus solely on walking straight.

When he sees me, Seth shoots up from the seat. "Ah, Cullen, my man." He gives me a little punch on my shoulder. It's not much, but I still need to suppress a wince. "It's nice to know not EVERYONE on this team plans to slack off before the final." He raises his voice on purpose, so that the whole bus hears. I ease myself into the seat next to Emmett, a hand clasping my side, trying anything that helps.

"I hope Ribery was watching," he adds through a laugh. "Actually, I hope he wasn't!"

I look at him as he retreats, smacking Jasper's head on his way. I wonder how he can possibly have so much energy while I am dead on my ass.

"Oh…" Seth comes back, hanging from the seats in front of us. "We're all going out after dinner. You coming?"

I shake my head at Seth automatically, shifting in my seat.

Who would have thought sitting down could be such a curse? I guess it depends how long you've been up, but today… standing hurts, sitting hurts, how do you win with this thing?

"Bella coming?" Seth turns to ask Emmett, and I freeze.

"I don't think so," Emmett answers swiftly, unaffected.

"Why not?"

"I think she said she wanted to stay in… I don't know." Emmett isn't even looking at Seth as he flips the pages of the magazine in his hands.

"And you're not staying with her?" Seth laughs, looking at me in disbelief.

Fuck.

"I told you already," Emmett continues calmly. "We're just friends now."

"Right…" Seth laughs again, gesturing at Emmett but still looking at me.

I shift uncomfortably again, but this time pain shoots up my spine, making me wince.

"You okay?" Seth frowns.

I nod, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths.

Shit, this is bad.

"I thought you were getting the shot," Emmett turns to me in concern.

"I was… I did. I don't know… It didn't work." I run a hand down my face, and when I open my eyes, Seth is still looking at me, his frown deepening.

"I'm fine," I tell the kid, and he relaxes slightly. As the bus starts moving, he goes back to his seat.

However, I'm not fine. Not even close. The shot obviously didn't work. I should be numb by now, but everything still hurts… and it will only get worse. I'm not even sure I can get through dinner like this anymore.

"It might just need a bit of time," Emmett whispers, patting my knee as I close my eyes again, focus on my breathing, and try as much as I can to relax.

Isabella is here though — she came to Wolfsburg because of me. Whether the drugs work or not, I am not missing tonight with her.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

A/N: Ugh, boys…