Hannah limped off the field after one of the shot put balls, thrown by some idiot freshman trying to impress people, had hit her in the leg. The coach asked her how it felt.
Hannah shrugged. "It hurts, but I've definitely had worse." She said not for the coach’s benefit, but for the gathered team.
The coached raised her eyebrow, but didn't say a word as they took the ice pack from the assistant and held it out to Hannah. She took the fact she hadn't sent anyone away yet as a signal to tell her story.
"My sophomore year,” Hannah took the ice pack and then swung her uninjured leg so she was straddling the bench. “We got to play softball, you know with the huge balls?” Hannah balanced the ice pack on her bruise before holding her hands out demonstrating the size of the ball.
Hannah curled her fingers, enticing the track and field people closer. “There I was, minding my own business in right field.” Hannah’s eyes danced from person to person, watching those that had heard the story before roll their eyes.
“It had drizzled earlier, making the grass slick.” Hannah grinned, resting an elbow on the cold block on her thigh. “And someone hit a nice and easy pop fly.” Her finger arched through the air. “It was in right field, near second base, but when someone yells ‘I got it’ or ‘mine’, it’s their ball, right?”
While the coach stood to the side, shaking their head she smiled when meeting Hannah’s gaze.
“I called it.” Her hand gestures got larger and her voice got louder. “So it’s incoming, and I’m running, and then there goes my feet, both of them, right out from under me.” Hannah threw her arms forward. “I tried to dive for the ball, the shadow was over my hands.”
Hannah brought her hands to her chest. “But instead of me making the heroic catch, the center fielder nabbed the ball, trampling over me in the process.” As she said this, Hannah traced her right clavicle with her fingers. “The pain exploded from my collar bone, and I heard it snap!”
There were gasps and Hannah stifled her grin. “Which is why this bruise is nothing.” She waved her hands as the coach sent everyone back to drills. When the other members were once again busy with drills, the coach shared a laugh with Hannah.
“Every time that story is getting more dramatic.”
“Thanks.” Hannah lifted the ice pack to look at the bruise. “So, since I’ll be graduating, who do you think will be good at carrying on the tradition?”
“You girls have been quite adept at figuring that out on your own.”
Word count: 453
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