You Can't Tell Me to Heal

John lowered me onto a bench in the workout room and sat down beside me. "I really am sorry, Avery," he apologized for about the fifth time in as many minutes.

I slowly stretched my legs out, trying not to wince. There was already too much guilt on John's face. "It's fine. And...I'm sorry about the way I was acting earlier," I mumbled back, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. John smiled the cutest crooked grin and nodded, resting his back on the wall as relief washed over his features. "So," I began hesitantly as a few uncomfortably awkward seconds passed, "how did you break your wrist?"

The grin on John's face widened. "My friends...we like to party," he laughed mostly to himself, running a hand through his light brown hair. "We were just playing around, but they hit me with our van," he explained, smiling down at his black wrist brace.

I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling, too. "Wow, John," I chuckled, looking him over out of the corner of my eye. He wore classic Vans, skinny jeans, and a plain white v-neck, Ray Bans perched on top of his head of bedhead light brown hair. I tried not to stare at the ink on his skin. I couldn't quite make out what it was, and I was curious.

"So, what about you? Torn ACL, right?" John gestured to my knee. I nodded and he sympathetically winced. "Ouch. How'd that happen?"

"Soccer," I replied, silently studying his facial features now. His eyes were this gorgeous green, but I tried to focus on his face as a whole. He was starting to look extremely familiar for some reason. "Hey, I'm sorry,this is gonna sound really weird and random, but... do I know you from somewhere?" I asked hesitantly. John's brow furrowed and we both stared at each other for a few minutes. "Or, do you know me from somewhere?" I asked, tearing my eyes away to glance at his wrist brace again. "My name's Avery Lassiter," I decided to introduce myself, holding out a hand to him.

John opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. A blush ravaged his face. "J-John O'Callaghan," he stammered after a moment's pause, taking my hand in his and shaking it firmly. "We went to ASU together."

I smiled, proud of myself. "I thought you looked familiar," I said with a soft laugh. "But I, uh, don't really remember anything else about you...I'm sorry."

John gasped and clutched his chest. "Oh, Avery! That one hurt right here," he said in a melodramatic manner, pointing to his heart. I actually giggled at that.

"What? ASU is a huge school!" I said defensively.

"Well, I remember you, of course," John said after rolling his eyes. "How could anyone ever forget Avery Lassiter, pride and joy of the Division I women's soccer team?"

My heart swelled with pride and John's words put a smile on my face. As soon as I looked at my knees, that smile fell. "...yeah, that's not me anymore," I muttered, clenching my hands into fists and looking away so John couldn't see me starting to cry again.

John's hand rested on top of my clenched fist. I looked back at him, the tears in my eyes threatening to spill over. "Avery," John began, and his eyes were apologetic.

And then Dr. Resnick ruined the moment stepped into the room. "Avery!" John quickly pulled his hand away and we both scooted to the far ends of the bench. "I've got your - oh... am I interrupting something?" Dr. Resnick asked, sounding amused.

"No, I was just leaving," John said as he got to his feet. "Bye, Avery," he said to me with a small smile before walking away.