Focus - Logicality

Logan - It's Time

The nurse physically assesses Patton's ankle the way she did when we first came in and replaces the melting ice pack with a new one. At her request, I remind her of the severity and cause of the injury and Patton tells her how much he'll be using his ankle. He says he'll be walking on it a lot, so she decides it would be best to give him a temporary splint. She says to take it off each night when he goes to bed and ice the injury for at least 20 minutes today and 20 more tomorrow.

"But I--" Patton starts.

I raise an eyebrow. "You're injured, Patton, Sometimes it's okay to act like it."

"Fine," he sighs. "Let's go."

"This is a pass to show your Physical Education teacher tomorrow," The nurse explains, handing Patton a yellow slip of paper. "Not to get out of class, just so he knows you're injured. If you leave now, you can take your time getting to class, and you should be fine. You might need to ease yourself into walking on it again. If it's bad enough, I can get you a crutch for a few days, but if not, I'm sure your friend would be happy to help."

We thank the nurse and head off. "Do you need to go to your locker first?" I ask him.

"Yeah, but I can do it later. It's okay."

"Nonsense, Patton. We have time."

"Really?" Patton purses his lips. "I thought the bell rang in a few minutes. We'll be late."

"We won't be late," I promise him, "but even if we are, I think helping my injured friend to class is more than enough of an exception. Besides, I have to get my homework for Astronomy, which I was going to do after lunch. I didn't get to do that, of course, because we had to go to the nurse. If your locker is near mine, we go. Deal?" I extend a hand.

"Deal." Patton shakes it and I help him off of the cot. As the weight shifts onto his bad ankle, he winces and lets out a small yelp of pain. I almost leap out of my skin at the sound, but not out of surprise. I'm faced with a feeling that, growing up as a friendless only child with no mother, I haven't felt since the day before the surgery that ended my mom's life: protectiveness. It surges through my chest--a massive tsunami tearing through every defense my consciousness can set in front of it. Sensing my tension, Patton chuckles lightly and puts a hand on my chest to calm me. I let out a long, weary breath I didn't know I was holding in.

"I may have underestimated the severity of your injury," I tell him shakily. "Would a crutch be beneficial, if only for a few days?" I ask. Patton looks away, blushing. I squeeze his hand, willing him to look at me. He nods reluctantly.

"You beat me to it," the nurse laughs as she pulls a crutch from a nearby closet and hands it to me. I help Patton get it situated, then he attempts to put weight on it again. The tension shows on his face, but it's not nearly as bad as before. I help him with his backpack as he thanks the nurse, then sling my own across my back. I take his non-crutch hand in mine. He smiles appreciatively, squeezing it tightly as I lead him through the maze of hallways to my locker. In this hallway, there are two horizontal rows of blue metal lockers. Mine is a bottom locker near the middle of the hallway. I quickly enter the combination and open the lock.

"This isn't possible," Patton gapes.

"What is it?" My eyes dart around the mostly empty hallway,

"A coincidence, I guess," he murmurs. I still have no idea what he means until he reaches towards the locker above mine and enters a combination.

I stare at him in shock. "You're joking, right? This is way too much coincidence for one day." Patton shakes his head. I pull a notebook and a binder out of my locker and put away a few textbooks, then slam it shut and help Patton with his stuff.

"It's a good coincidence though, right?" He asks me timidly.

"Of course," I assure him. "Let's get to class."