“Sure.” The ankle throbs, and I curl over, whimpering. I feel Landon’s arm behind my back, and then his other underneath my knees. “I’ll be careful as I can,” he says, as he lifts me.
My whole body feels hot and sweaty, so it’s weird that I’m still shivering as he carries me. I lock an arm around his neck, because I’m irrationally worried he might drop me.
“I’ve got you.” I feel his chin against my hair. “You’re light as a feather, Evie.”
“No, I’m not.” Still crying. I tell myself I need to stop, but I cry more as Landon eases me in to my car’s passenger’s seat, and Tia leans in close to buckle my seatbelt.
I look down at my ankle, resting in the floorboard. “It hurts…really bad, like this.” Everyone around me talks at once, and then it’s Landon kneeling by me once more. “I’m sorry.” His eyes are sadder than I’ve ever seen them, taking me off guard. “I should have thought about the angle, with your legs down. Jake is gonna drive us in his Jeep, and we’ll sit in the back with you.”
“And so will I,” Tia promises. “Landon will sing songs and I’ll play with your hair.”
“Okay.” I’m trying not to cry as Landon picks me up again. My ankle bobs slightly as we walk to Jake’s silver Jeep.
I cry again, because I’m so embarrassed, and my ankle hurts so much I feel like it might never stop. I know it’s broken—with an orthopedic surgeon for a father, I know what numb toes mean.
“How should we do this?”
“Landon, you sit her up there. You and I will then get in and kind of drag her booty toward the back and maybe you or I can wrap our arms around her waist, while the other person holds her foot in their lap?”
“I’ve got a pillow in the backseat. From that game in Charlotte.”
“Perfect. Get the pillow.”
Everything seems kind of slow now. All my freaking out has made me sleepy. Landon does as promised, setting me down me in the back of the Jeep, and I notice belatedly that Tia must have hopped up first. She gets my hurt, left leg under the knee, preventing my foot from touching the floor, as Landon climbs up behind me, wraps his arms under mine, and slowly, gently, drags me so my butt is in the corner formed by the back of the last row of seating and the driver’s side wall of the car.
Landon peers down at me; his face is upside down from my perspective, but even then, I see him hesitate— “DelMar said to put your head flat on the floor and your foot up, but…do you want to lie in my lap?”
“Okay.”
I barely have the wherewithal to feel excited to be near him. Landon helps me lie back, and I’m in his lap, but not really; he’s got me sort of cradled in his arms.
Jake starts driving, and my thoughts get wispy. I watch the shadows pass over the car’s ceiling, and I feel Landon’s hand in my hair. I’m surprised at first, but all my feelings are turned down. He’s playing with my hair…I think.
I’m so sleepy. Lots of starts and stops, and their hands tighten on me. My ankle throbs, but I don’t feel it that much if I just look at the ceiling.
“You okay?” Landon asks. His voice sounds deep and kind of loud.
I look up at him, try to smile if I can, but I can’t. Tia says, “You’re doing great. We’ll be there soon.”
I feel Landon’s lap beneath me, feel his abs against the back of my head, feel him holding onto me with every turn Jake makes.
“I’m gonna call your dad,” he says at one point, and I listen to him through a fog as he tells Dad what happened and says “we will.”
Jake pulls in beside the ambulance bay, and Landon carries me inside the ER, right into triage, where I’m illogically surprised to see my dad in his white coat.
“You’re here?” I manage in a tinny voice. “I thought you were at home…cause…it’s Tuesday?” I feel dizzy and confused as Landon sets me on a table.
“Not yet, honey. Now let’s see what you’ve gotten yourself into…” Dad kneels while the nurse puts a blood-pressure cuff on me, and then things happen fast. Dad and the nurse are talking in serious tones, and Tia and Jake seem to be ushered out as the nurse lays me back on the table.
“What’s going on?” I ask Landon. My voice sounds quivery, and I feel really cold. He kneels by me, and I think how his eyes look silver, like some gorgeous molten metal.
The next thing I know, there’s green all around me. Shifting green, like curtains hanging, and something… It’s a beeping sound. An annoying beeping sound.
I try to open my eyes, but they feel heavy. I do manage a peek down at myself, and I see I’m lying down, covered by blankets. Hey, it’s those heated blankets. I’ve seen them…at the hospital.
I must be sick, but I don’t remember what happened. It was something good. I do remember something good…
Next time I open my eyes, my dad is sitting right by me.
“Hey there,” he says, and I get the sense he’s leaning over me. “How’s it going, green bean?”
I look down at my ankle, but I can’t see it for all the blankets. I’m in a hospital bed, in a hospital room.
“Did you…do surgery on me?” My eyes are rolling back in my head even as I ask the question.
“No, sweetheart.” The top of my dad’s head is cut off by my leaden eyelids. “I didn’t need to.”
If this is a dream, I wonder hazily, why isn’t my dad doing surgery? It’s what he does…
I awaken for a third time and feel fresh surprise to see I’m in a dark room, in what I think must be the hospital. My ankle hurts—like, bad. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. I cough, and a form materializes from the shadows.
“Evie? Hey…” It’s Landon. He leans over my bed, and then he’s way up close. I feel confused, and kind of scared.
“Landon? What am…where am I?”
Landon sits on the side of my bed, or tries to. I hear a click, and he’s moving the railing. He moves some cords, and I notice an IV. I got an IV? When did that happen?
My ankle hurts.
Tears fill my eyes.
“You broke your ankle,” he says. His voice is soft. His eyes are sad.
“Where’s…my dad? Did…he…do surgery?” The word is slurred. I try to regroup, but I can’t. “Where’s Dad?”
“I’m sorry, Evie. Your dad went home to spend the night with Emmaline. Your mom is here, though. She’s been in here with you, but she’s on call. Another doctor is going to come and take her place, but she’s not here yet. It’s about eleven o’clock. At night.”
“My ankle?” I manage hoarsely.
“It’s wrapped. They weren’t able to say for sure, but they don’t think it needs surgery. Your dad thought the CT scan looked good. It’s just a fracture.”
“Landon?”
“Yeah?”
I blink at his face. “Do you…really like me?”
“What?” He looks surprised.
“I need…someone…here who…really likes me,” I say. Then I’m lost.