"Don't move." Andy Stevens, one of the team's physicians, crouched by his other side and released the skateboard's bindings. "Let me check you over."
The team's trainers joined Andy and other members of the Riptide gathered around Slade, some bending to offer encouragement and others looking on. Liam grimaced as Andy inspected his ankle. The touches weren't helping him feel better at all. He focused on Slade. The first baseman was one of the best power hitters in the league, but more than that, he was Liam's roommate and best friend. Slade smiled and shook his head. "That was some stunt you pulled."
"I try."
Andy asked him if he hit his head, what had happened, if he felt pain anywhere. Being evaluated while still wearing his shark costume, he felt a little ridiculous. Finally, the doctor motioned for the players and staff to step back. "Can you stand? We need to get you into the training room and out of that costume for a proper evaluation."
Slade propped him up on one side and Dom joined on the other. Supporting his weight, they lifted him to standing. Cheers and applause rang out from the crowd. He took a tentative step on his left leg and his ankle screamed in protest.
"Shit. That's not happening." At least the shark head hid his face from the crowd. He didn't want to let on how bad he felt.
Dom nodded and adjusted his grip, accepted more of Liam's weight. "Don't worry. We've got you."
Leaning on his friends, Liam kept his gaze down, focusing on the grass and then the warning track during the slow hobble toward the dugout. Taking another tumble would be awful. Dom and Slade were all but carrying him.
"I'm sure you didn't hurt yourself too bad." Slade's cheerful optimism helped even as the lines fanning from his eyes deepened, giving away his concern. "You didn't feel anything snap, right?"
"Right. Except maybe my pride."
"Pride? You don't have pride, you're a mascot." Dom teased, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "You pulled off one ballsy stunt even if it didn't end the right way. You never let things get you down, so don't start now."
"Yeah, but—"
"No buts." Dom guided them to the steps leading into the dugout. "Just relax and let Andy check you out. We'll probably be laughing about this on the flight home tonight."
Liam bit his lip against the throbbing pain. The guys were probably right. Nothing bad would happen to him, not at the start of the season.
He had too much riding on it.
APRIL FOOLS' DAY.
Shit. Fate turned the surprise around on him, like a sick curse.
Less than twenty-four hours after the accident, Liam sat on a chair in front of the dugout in the Riptide's nearly empty stadium, wanting to be anywhere else. He glared at his metal crutches gleaming in the harsh sunlight and then the cast on his left foot. Stupid injury.
A fractured ankle meant six weeks or more for the bone to heal, followed by as many weeks of physical therapy as necessary to rebuild his strength and mobility. He would be stuck riding the proverbial bench for at least the first half of the season. But Andy had warned him full healing could take six months to as much as a year. Predicting ankles was a funny business.
From where Liam was sitting, he didn't see a damn thing funny. What he did see were five hopefuls on the sun-drenched ball field vying for his job.
Team management couldn't afford to lose the entertainment value that Liam brought to Fin the Shark, with the flips and daredevil activities, so they were replacing him.
And he was expected to help select and also train the new Fin.
Freaking fantastic. He scuffed his sneaker through the warning track's deep red-brown dirt, feeling as low as the dust kicked up by his movement.
"Hey, Liam." Slade strolled through the dugout. Hands tucked into his back pockets, he ascended the steps and then leaned against the fence at Liam's back. "Stop snarling. People are going to think you broke your funny bone too."
Liam snorted and shifted his crutches away from Slade's sneaker. "What are you doing here? I figured you'd spend your last weekend of freedom far away from the field."
"What can I say? I missed you." Slade shot him a grin. "You looked so down when I dropped you off earlier. So, since you're here, being miserable, I figured I'd come back and be miserable too."
Having his friend there for support helped a lot, but still... the way Slade expected happiness and sunshine was too much. "I can't help that I'm not excited about the team bringing in someone to replace me."
Slade rolled his eyes. They'd had this discussion a ton of times since he'd received both the diagnosis and the team's plan last night. "Not replace. Help out until you get back to normal. Although, normal is a stretch for you."
Liam fought his first smile since the injuries had happened. "Thanks."
"Seriously, no one's as good as you. No other mascots can do the flips or stunts that you do. You have nothing to worry about."
Liam shaded his eyes and shrugged. One injury could change everything in an instant. After all, that was how his dad had scored the mascot job twenty years earlier, filling in after the original mascot had suffered a broken back. "This job means everything, man. I can't lose it. Do you know how many visits to Children's Hospital I have lined up already? And we're partnering with the Wishes Foundation again this season. I'm not giving up those appearances. Those kids need me, not some fill-in who doesn't understand how important those visits really are. I don't care if I have to steal my costume to be there."
"Please don't actually steal the costume. I can't be an accessory to the crime. It wouldn't look good for my contract negotiations."
"Well, someone has to
