Page 136 of Unbreakable
He’s had a little setback and is not too happy about it
“It’s just fucking bullshit.I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing and for some fucked up reason, it’s not healing right.”
A storm cloud named Dylan sat in the front seat of our SUV, his arms crossed over his chest and a fresh ice pack around his knee. We’d just come from the orthopedist’s office, who said his latest MRI didn’t look quite like she wanted it to. Count this as another of the times he looked like an overgrown version of Greyson throwing a tantrum.
“If I remember from my dancing days, bodies aren’t always obedient to what they’re supposed to do,” I said.
He glared at me.
“Get it all out now and then lose the ‘tude, captain,” I warned. “We’re about to pick up the loudest ones of all.”
“I just need to fucking be alone. I don’t need advice, or condolences, or to vent.”
“Thank you for telling me what you need,” I said very robotically because I was trying not to laugh. He was usually so level-headed and goofy at home, so to see his hockey temper was almost funny. Especially because he was doing exactly what he said he didn’t want to do: venting.
“I’ve eaten the anti-inflammatory foods, and it’s not like I ate bad before that. I sleep. I do what they tell me and don’t do what I’m not supposed to, and it’s still like this. It’s just—god-fucking-dammit!” He slammed his hand on the dashboard, then winced because it obviously hurt. I just folded my lips between my teeth and serenely turned into the car line at Alice and Grey’s school. “I mean, what the fuck, Jeanine?”
I looked at him. “Sorry, baby.”
“That’s it?! That’s all you’ve got?”
“Well, it’s not fair.”
“I need to get back to work!”
I nodded as I waved to the teacher working the carline. “I know, baby.”
“Are you patronizing me?” Dylan demanded.
I finally caved to an eye roll. “Dylan, do me a favor and go use a punching bag or something when we get home. I know you’re upset. You have a right to be. The best you can do is keep doing what they tell you to do.”
“I want a second opinion,” he harrumphed.
I sighed. “If that’s what you want, we can get you one.”
He held up a hand, stopping himself. “No. That’s alright. I know I’m not being fair.”
“It’s just one extra week, Dylan. I know you want to get back out there. We’ll get you back out there, even if it takes until next fall.”
He put his eyebrows up. “If they think I’m not going back till next fall, oh, they’ve got a new thing coming.”
I bit my tongue to keep from saying the obvious.
He snapped to look at me. “What?”
“I don’t think it’s up to you, or them. You need to heal so you can play again and not just injure it again right away.”
He groaned. “Stop being right! It’s annoying as fuck!”
“Ope! Here they come!” Alice and Grey ran out of the school building for our car, letting themselves in. And with their burst of energy and Mom-guess-whats, Dylan’s woes had to take a backseat.
FIFTY-TWO
DYLAN
NOW | MARCH
Chappy
