Chapter 19: Overdid It

Wilt PoV

As Wilt made his way outside, his leg suddenly began to ache. The strain from running and his power move must've caught up to him.

He winced slightly, shifting his weight onto his good leg. The dull throbbing was a clear reminder of the injury he had sustained. He had been so caught up in the excitement of the tryouts that he had momentarily forgotten the pain. 

He leaned against the wall of the gym, taking a moment to catch his breath and let the ache subside. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew he had to be careful. Overexerting himself could potentially worsen the injury and jeopardize his ability to play. 

Suddenly, he felt a presence beside him. He turned to see Sylvester, his seafoam green hair standing out even in the dimming light. 

"Are you okay?" Sylvester asked, genuine concern etched on his face. 

Wilt gave him a small smile. "Yeah, I just pushed myself a bit too hard today. It's nothing serious."

Sylvester nodded, though he still looked worried. "Just make sure to take care of yourself, Wilt. We need you."

Wilt felt a warm surge of gratitude. Sylvester's words were a reminder that he wasn't just playing for himself, but for his team as well. 

"Thanks, Sylvester," he said. "I will."

As Sylvester walked away, Wilt took a deep breath, his gaze lingering on the empty court. The events of the day replayed in his mind. The power moves, the camaraderie, the excitement – it was all a taste of what was to come. 

Despite the throbbing in his leg, Wilt felt a renewed sense of determination. He wouldn't let his injury hold him back. He had a team now, a family, and he wouldn't let them down.

He pushed himself off the wall and began to limp outside, his mind already going over the rehabilitation exercises he'd need to do.

"Huh, Wilt?" a familiar voice called out. He turned and saw Natasha.

"Huh? Nata? What are you doing here?" Wilt asked, his face turning paler.

"I came to bring some of my stuff for next week," she replied, motioning towards the bag she was carrying.

Wilt nodded, the college's housing policy suddenly coming back to him. The first-years were required to live in the dorms during the school week. It was a rule to encourage camaraderie and build a sense of community among the students. The weekends were free for them to go home or stay in the dorms.

"Need any help?" he offered, pushing away from the wall.

Natasha shook her head, a grin on her face. "No worries, Wilt. I'm almost done. But thanks for offering."

"Sure thing."

She frowned as she looked him up and down.

Wilt gulped and stepped back.

Natasha sighed. "Seems you need help. Did you overdo it during tryouts? I saw you participating despite already being part of the team."

He blushed. "You did?"

She turned away. "Uh, I was passing by and got curious about the basketball team. That's when I saw you shooting that comet-like three-point shot."

Wilt grinned. "That was my power move."

"That was pretty impressive," Natasha admitted, her eyes shining with admiration. "But you clearly overdid it. You need to learn to rest, Wilt."

Wilt's grin faded, replaced with a guilty grimace. "Yeah, I know. I just got caught up in the moment, I guess."

Natasha shook her head, her hands on her hips. "That's not an excuse, Wilt. You're not invincible. You need to take care of your body. You can't afford to get more injured than when those thugs beat you up at the park."

Wilt flinched at the mention of the incident, the memory still fresh and painful. He could still remember the feeling of helplessness, the pain shooting through his leg. He wouldn't wish it on anyone.

"You're right, Nata," he said, his voice low. "I promise to take it easy and prioritize my recovery."

Natasha nodded, her stern expression softening. "That's all I ask, Wilt. Don't push yourself too hard."

"I won't," Wilt assured her, his words firm. He owed it to his team - and to himself - to be at his best. And that meant taking care of his injury.

She smiled. "Now, let me take you home. You walked here, didn't you?"

He blushed. "Uh, thanks. You really keep helping me out."

Natasha shrugged. "What are friends for?"

As she drove him home, Wilt couldn't help but feel grateful for her presence - and her concern. He knew she was right; he needed to take care of himself, not just for his sake, but for his team as well. They were all counting on him, and he couldn't let them down.

As they pulled up to his house, Natasha turned to him. "Remember, Wilt," she said, her voice firm, "Rest, and don't push yourself too hard. Okay?"

Wilt nodded. "I promise, Nata. I won't."

With a final wave, Natasha drove off, leaving Wilt standing in front of his house. He watched her car disappear down the street before turning to go inside.

As he limped to his front door, Wilt couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of resolve. He had a responsibility to his team, to himself, and he wouldn't take it lightly. He would recover, he would train, and he would be ready for the new season. But he also wanted to keep his word to Nata.

He chuckled as his heart fluttered. Was he some school girl or something?

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. It wasn't like that, he told himself. Nata was just a good friend, someone who cared for him and his well-being. It was natural for him to feel grateful.

Once inside, he made his way to the living room and carefully lowered himself onto the couch. He propped his injured leg on a cushion, the relief immediate as he took the weight off it.

He closed his eyes, the events of the day replaying in his mind. The tryouts, the power moves, Sylvester's words of concern, and Natasha's stern yet caring admonition.

He found himself looking forward to the new season, despite the challenges it would bring. He was eager to play, to contribute, to be a part of something bigger than himself.

He grinned, his heart pounding with anticipation. He was no school girl, but he was definitely excited. And he couldn't wait to see what the new season would bring. And for the new school year itself.