Fuckboy

twenty-three

The game had finally ended, our team winning by two goals, one actual fist fight, and one broken Connor. I was able to convince Connor to let me drive him to the hospital, so I got a few of the soccer boys to carry him to my car. I let Ellie know I'd call her later then headed out.

Connor and I drove in silence, except for him gasping in pain whenever we'd hit a hole in the road. Stupid town for causing more pain to this boy.

Soon enough, we were parked outside of the hospital and I was stuck on how I'd get him inside with the least amount of pain possible.

"I can go grab you a wheelchair, you just stay here."

Connor reached out and lightly gripped my thigh. "Wait, Liz. Hold on."

I sat back in my seat, turning to face him. "What's up? Do you not want the wheelchair?"

Connor placed his head back against the seat, "No, I do. I just, I wanted a hug first. Before we go in, please?" The boy almost had me in tears, so I couldn't imagine how he was holding himself together so well.

I smiled, leaning over the middle console, embracing him tightly. He returned the action, breathing shakily into my shoulder. "I've never actually been to the hospital for an injury. I'm glad you're here with me."

I squeezed him a little bit tighter before pulling back. "I'm going to get you a wheelchair, and then I'll be next to you every step of the way that they'll let me. You'll be okay."

****

The good thing about Connor's mom working at the hospital meant that the areas I wasn't allowed to go through with him, she'd be there next to him. I still sat in the waiting area, quietly tapping my foot on the ground and texting updates to Ellie and Elijah.

It appears that Elijah was right, Connor had shattered his kneecap. He was going through the surgery currently, getting a plaster cast which they predicted he'd be in for at least a month. I know Connor was trying to keep up the act of it not affecting him as much, but he showed some signs of disappointment.

It was almost midnight when Connor was out of surgery and ready to go home. He was being given crutches and talking with his mother when they let me into his room. He smiled when I entered the room, waving me over.

I walked around his mother and went to stand beside the bed he was sitting on. His mother started giving him directions to follow once he got home, and then continued to ask me to make sure he followed them. I smiled, nodding my head.

It was nice knowing that his mother accepted me being with her son. It made the encounter with her at the hospital that much easier.

When Connor was all ready to go home, we carefully got to my car and I tried my best to help him. Connor would continue to say that he was alright, and he got this. I was starting to get confused on if this was an act or if he was actually alright now.

That is until we got to his house.

I helped him into the living room, where his mother instructed him to sleep for the night, considering he couldn't get up the stairs that easily. I grabbed blankets from where Connor said they kept extra blankets and pillows. He began to get comfortable on the couch, and I propped his leg up on some pillows.

I was about to kiss him goodbye before heading home, but he held my wrist to keep me beside him. "Wait, don't go."

"What do you need, babe?"

He smiled, his lip quivering just the slightest. "Nothing, I just wanted to talk. I feel like if I don't, I won't be able to sleep."

I rubbed his arm gently before standing and pulling over the coffee table. I sat on the edge, leaning my elbows onto my knees and placing a hand on his chest. Connor took my hand in his, playing with my fingers.