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His nose flared. “I know when things need stitches, and I’m mentally prepared to look. Now lemme see.”
I set my jaw and stared him down, but he wouldn’t budge.
“C’mon. Stop acting so damn tough. Let me help you, dammit,” he said under his breath, and that made me pause. He said it with such… warmth, like he really wanted to help me, and he genuinely cared.
“Okay, fine,” I relented.
He inched forward and lifted the paper towel.
“Don’t touch it,” I hissed.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Josie.”
“You can drop the miss, you know,” I quipped.
“I know. I just like it,” he said, and I could practically hear a smile in his voice.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re turning white. If you pass out, I cannot help you right now.”
He cleared his throat and backed away. “I’m fine, but we need to go in. That’s super deep. Where did you say you hit it?”
“What? No. I’m not going anywhere.” I shook my head.
“Uh, yes, you are. We’re going in.” He was already walking in my bedroom. “They need to stitch it or glue it. Besides, they could probably hit you up with some fluids, knock the flu out faster. Where’s your jacket?”
13. Tyler
“Weare not going anywhere because I am fine,” she said stubbornly.
In a quick motion, I lifted off my hoodie and extended it to her. “C’mon, lose the robe, put this on,” I ordered.
“Tyler! I am not going!” she repeated with wide eyes.
I ground my back teeth. Was she always this stubborn? I had a feeling she was. “That doesn’t look like it’s stopping anytime soon and you’re already feeling weak, let’s go.” I nodded at my hoodie.
She reluctantly took it, which felt like a major win. I went out to her hallway and grabbed her small boots and the big Northface jacket hung up by the door.
Coming back to the bathroom, the sight of her in my hoodie made my heart kinda swell. I knelt down by her feet and shoved her left boot on.
She was being awfully quiet now though, and a little regret seeped in over ordering her around, even if it was for her benefit. “Josie, Coach asked me to check on you, and I gave him my word,” I explained.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, of course,” her voice dripped with disdain. “If it’s for Coach, thensure. Anything for Coach.”
“Huh?” My face cracked in confusion. What did that mean? I shook my head, it didn’t matter right now because she needed medical attention. I held her jacket out so she could easily put it on. “Let’s go.”
She went to stand, but her knees gave out and she fell back on the toilet seat.
“Josie–”
“Wait.” Her eyes were wide and panicked. She reached out and grabbed the counter ledge with a shaky hand. “I really don’t feel so good,” she said in a wobbly voice.
“Oh, sorry, I–”
A second later, she was turning and leaning over the toilet, vomiting.
And despite being very proud of myself for keeping it together around the blood, well, vomit was a totally different story. So you can’t really blame me for what happened next…
I gagged about five times, then thought I was in the clear.
