Page 24 of Love at Second Down

“Uh, I slipped getting out of the shower and fucked my leg up.”

I jolt to attention as a wave of panic washes over me, immediately thinking of our game on Sunday. “If this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny.”

“No joke. I’m serious, man.” As if to punctuate his words, he grunts in pain. “I can’t put any weight on it.”

I narrow my eyes even though he can’t see me, convinced he’s making shit up. “Well, why the hell are you calling me? Call an ambulance or something.”

“What? No, I can’t do that,” he says, voice laced with panic.

I roll my eyes. “And why not?”

“Because . . . it’s my other leg.”

I frown. “What?”

“Myotherleg. You know. My third leg.”

“Your dick?”

“Yeah. I slipped and fell and hurt my dick.”

“Well, why the fuck are you calling me? How am I supposed to help?” Then I remember what he said and scowl. “Wait. You said you can’t put weight on it.”

“So?”

I scrub a hand down my face, too tired for this shit. “So, do you walk on your penis? Is this some kind of weird sex trick or something? No one needs to put weight on their dick, so either you’re lying or?”

“Aaargh!” he screams into the phone. “It hurts so fucking bad, man. I need help.Now!”

“Even if this were real, which I suspect it’s not, I’m not helping you with your dick,” I say, unable to believe I’m even having this conversation. “Call Charlotte.”

“I can’t,” he says between pants, “she’s working on a paper.”

“Where the hell is Jace? He’s your roommate. Call him.”

“He’s out with Brynn,” Chris whines. “I’m all alone!” he half yells, half moans down the line.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me with this,” I mutter more to myself than him.

I bite the inside of my cheek in a bid to restrain my annoyance when he says, “Please, just come help me, and I’ll never ask you for another thing as long as I live.”

“What exactly do you think I’m going to be able to do? And how the fuck does one even break their dick? It’s not possible.”

“It is, actually. Look it up,” he says, much calmer now, and when I say nothing, he adds, “I’ll wait.”

“I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this,” I grumble as I pull my phone away from my ear and Google “broken penis.”

“Oh,shit!” I yell when the screen loads.

“Told you,” I hear Chris’s muffled voice say, and when I put the phone back to my ear, I swear I hear more than one voice in the background.

“Wait. Is someone else there? Who’s with you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“No one!” he says, his tone sharp. “No one’s here. It’s just the TV.”

“Even if you’re telling the truth, what the hell were you doing to break your dick, anyway? Actually,” I grip the phone tighter and dry heave, “don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.”

“Smart man. So, will you come help me?Please?”

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