Page 31 of Coping Skills

“You could come help. I might need someone to keep an eye on me. Traumatic brain injury and all.”

He regretted the words when he saw her wince. She shook her head. “They wouldn’t have let you leave the hospital if you were so bad off that you needed supervision in the shower. Go. I promise I’ll be here when you get back.”

The fact that she felt the need to promise worried him a little. He hadn’t expected her to want to leave, and had assumed her protests that she should go were more for show than from an actual desire to leave. But the promise made it sound like she really did want to leave. So it was with a frown on his face that he slid past her to get to the bathroom.

Once he was in the shower, his worries washed away along with the dried sweat and leftover grime from the game. The trainers had hustled him to the hospital once they’d determined that he had a concussion, not letting him change out of his uniform, barely letting him get his shoulder pads off in the locker room before he left. Plus, he’d heard enough stories of people getting nasty infections in the hospital that taking a shower after spending time there sounded like a great idea.

But he didn’t take too long, giving himself a quick scrub down from head to toe, regretting bending over as soon as he did it, and more when he stood back up. The floaty, dizzy feeling hadn’t gotten any better, and the altitude change only made it worse. He held onto the wall of the shower while he waited for the worst of the dizziness to pass, then turned off the water and toweled off quickly. His bed was calling. In high school when he’d gotten a concussion, they’d made him stay up all night. That had been awful. Thankfully, this doctor had said he should sleep as much as he wanted to and avoid stimulation for a few days to give himself time to feel better.

With the towel wrapped around his hips, he crossed the small bit of space that served as a hallway to get to his bedroom. Elena sat on his bed, hunched in on herself, staring at her phone.

When he walked in, she straightened, then stood. “How are you feeling?”

He tilted his hand back and forth in a so-so gesture, avoiding moving his head more than absolutely necessary. “Better with a shower. But more tired. I smell better at least.”

Her gaze lingered where his hand gripped the towel around his hips, but she looked sad this time. That was not a look he’d ever seen on her when he was all but naked. Unconcerned about her seeing him all the way naked, he let go of one end of the towel, draping it over his desk chair and rummaging in his drawer for a clean pair of shorts. Pulling them on provoked the room into spinning again, and he sat down heavily on the bed once the elastic hit his hips, his head in his hands.

Elena made a little sound of distress, her hand landing on his shoulder. “Come on. Get into bed. You need to rest.”

He started to nod without thinking about it and groaned when that made the dizziness worse again. Tipping onto his side on the bed, he lifted up enough that she could pull the blankets out from under him and cover him up. He opened his eyes to watch her smooth the blanket over his chest, her dark hair falling like a curtain and blocking his view of her face.

Wrapping his hand around her wrist, he stopped her before she could pull away. He tugged. “Climb in. Stay.”

She finally looked at him, the same sad look from earlier on her face, her lips compressed again. “You need to rest.”

“I know. I’ll rest better if you’re with me.”

A dry chuckle rasped in her throat, but it wasn’t her normal laugh. “Rest isn’t what we normally do in this bed.”

He tried his charming smile again. “True. But we could make an exception.”

She shook her head, pulling her wrist out of his grip. “I can’t, Daniel. I really can’t.”

“Why not?” His thoughts came out of his mouth as soon as they entered his head. “It’s the weekend. You don’t have to get up early for class. You don’t have your car. Coop’s either drinking and playing video games, and therefore can’t drive you, or he’s getting ready to go out drinking somewhere else.”

Her eyes left his, scanning over the blankets as though looking for the answer there. This wasn’t like her. She usually told him the truth. Stalling meant she was looking for a believable lie.

“Elena? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head again. “I can’t, Daniel.”

“Can’t what?”

Her hands covered her face for a moment, a gesture he recognized. She did it when she was forcing back her tears. Usually when she talked about her dad. What was going on? He sat up, reaching out to run his hand over her hip to her lower back, slipping under the sweatshirt she still wore. She’d taken off his jersey while he was in the shower.

“Elena? Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

Her hands came away from her eyes and covered her mouth. She shook her head again.

“Will you stop shaking your head at me? I’m tired, and I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Okay. Good. Now take off your sweatshirt and jeans, and get into bed.”

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