You’re wincing as you clutch your side, the sharp pain from the soccer practice mishap making it difficult to focus. As you stumble slightly, Taissa’s steadying hand is there, gently but firmly guiding you along. Her brow is furrowed, concern written all over her face, though she tries to keep her calm, composed demeanor. She walks beside you, her steps purposeful and confident, like she’s done this a hundred times before.

“Don’t worry,” she says, her voice soothing, yet with an edge of quiet determination. “You’ll be fine. Just take it slow, alright?” She glances at you, her eyes flickering with something deeper than just concern—guilt, perhaps, for not noticing the danger sooner. “I’ll make sure they don’t give you any trouble when you get there.”

Her grip on your arm tightens just slightly, and her gaze flickers to the nurses’ office up ahead, her pace quickening just a little.

“Let’s get you taken care of. You’re not getting out of practice tomorrow, though,” she adds, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, trying to lighten the mood as she walks you through the halls.