Focus - Logicality

Patton - Words To Heed

I manage a small smile as Logan wipes away my tears and examines injuries. Thankfully, he keeps a first aid kit in his car, which doesn't surprise me in the least. He cleans the scrapes and cuts, cleaning up the blood and removing the splint from my ankle then replacing the bandages then setting it again.

"Your ankle was damaged further, which will increase recovery time. Other than this, your injuries are mild," he assures me. "Does it feel any better?" He pokes my ankle gently and I wince, suppressing a whimper of pain. The bruises on my chest are more painful than anything I could ever have imagined, but I think I would know if I broke a rib, so I suck it up and don't tell Logan about it.

My ankle is pulsing and throbbing so badly it brings fresh tears to my eyes, but it hurts less than it did a few minutes ago, so I don't complain: I feel like enough of a baby sitting here on the hot tar, crying and covered in blood, scrapes, bruises and injuries, getting pushed around by violent bullies like the weak little kid that I am.

"It feels a little better," I assure him. This isn't a lie: Logan is much more medically proficient than he gives himself credit for. He nods, then hands me the crutch and helps me to my feet.

When I gingerly poke Logan's left eye,  which is swelled shut and rapidly darkening, his features contort. He quickly masks it, but not very well.

"That's a black eye, Lo," I note. "You should see the nurse."

"I'm okay, Patton," he insists calmly. "If you really want me to, I'll ice it when I get home, but I'll be okay for now."

While Logan retrieves his backpack, I text Roman: big, violent emergency, but it's over now. Meet at my locker. Both of you. I need backup. Roman gives an affirmative. I know Virgil will start worrying immediately--that's why I only texted Roman, but Virgil is probably looking over his shoulder anyway--so I tell Roman to tell him not to worry and that I'll explain everything in due time. I let Logan support the majority of my weight then take his hand and lead him down the hallway.

When we reach my locker, Roman and Virgil are already there, holding hands and sniping passionately at each other. "I mean, they are kinda perfect for each other. They both wear glasses," Roman scoffs. "Like nerds." Virgil allows himself a small snicker then opens his mouth to scold his pretentious boyfriend, who speaks before he can. "What are you laughing at, Hot Topic?"

"Aww, you think I'm hot." Virgil's smirk widens. "Also, that's not nice. Not everyone is as perfect as you are," he remarks dryly.

"I know right?" Roman moans. "It's a tragedy!" I wave brightly to the pair to announce our presence. My knees buckle and I wince in pain when the action hurts my wrist.

"What was all this about, Patton?" Virgil asks worriedly. "You two look like you've been through a war. Are you okay?"

"They seem okay enough," Roman spouts, seemingly uninterested. "Why are we here?"

Virgil slaps him across the face and turns to us, ignoring his boyfriend. "Tell us what happened, guys." He eyes Roman, who is now rubbing the red mark on his cheek and focusing intently on pouting. "Well, I guess I should say tell me," Virgil sighs, "because apparently I'm the only one listening."

"I'm listening!" Roman sulks. "I'm great at listening!"

Virgil eyes him skeptically then refocuses on us. Logan starts the story, but I break into tears before he gets very far. This doesn't help to ease the feeling that I'm fatuously, ridiculously juvenile. Logan wraps an arm around me then exchanges a glance with Virgil. They herd Roman and I to the nearest bathroom, where we head immediately the back corner. Logan and Virgil help me sit then claim places on either side of me and each wrap an arm around my crumpled form. I can barely muster the strength to hug my knees to my chest.