Derek tossed his crutches across the training room and swore loud enough to echo off the cinderblock walls.
Leo stood in the doorway, watching his captain try to stand on his own. The boot was off. The ankle was still swollen, purple and yellow, wrapped in a compression sleeve. Derek's face was twisted in pain and frustration.
“I can't do it,” Derek said through gritted teeth.
“You can. You just did. You stood for three seconds.”
“Three seconds isn't standing. It's falling slowly.”
Leo walked to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Three weeks ago, you couldn't put any weight on it. Now you're standing. That's progress.”
“Progress isn't good enough. The conference tournament is in two weeks.”
“And you're not playing in it.”
Derek's head snapped toward Leo. “What?”
“You heard me. Y
