Say Something | Ben Tyler Cook/Newsies

Chapter Forty

"They didn't have an ice pack so I brought you a bag of peas," Ginger said remorsefully, handing me the frosty package.

I smiled gratefully and pressed the makeshift ice pack against my swollen septum. Normally I would've shuttered at its icy touch, but after spending a night in a snowstorm, it was like sticking my hand in the refrigerator.

Josh and Tommy Bracco left the bedroom where they'd laid Sky down to sleep off his excitement while Ben scrubbed drying vomit off the carpet. After the first punch, Ben delivered the final blow to Sky's stomach, which promptly made him retch all the alcohol out of his system. The exertion was too much for him because he blacked out soon after.

And just when I thought today couldn't get any crazier. . .

"Did it hurt?" Ginger asked softly after a moment of silence.

"No," I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "it was like a kiss on the forehead."

"Alright, alright," Ginger said, raising her hands in surrender, "it was a stupid question, I admit.  I just don't know what else to say.  I mean, I didn't see that coming."

"I don't think anyone did.  I certainly didn't."

Ginger snickered. "At least your sense of humor isn't broken too."

"My nose isn't broken," I said a little too defensively.  Although I'd never been crazy about the shape of my nose, the possibility of having a permanent goose egg on it sent a jolt of fear through me.  "I'll be right as rain in no time."

"Thank goodness!  You've had more excitement in the last twenty-four hours than you've had in your entire life."

"Tell me about it.  I never thought moving to the city would be this chaotic."

"That's what happens when you hang out with theatre kids.  They're wild," she teased, an amused twinkle in her dark eyes.  "But I bet you can't say you've had as much fun since moving here.  I mean, you're dating Ben Cook now—of all people!"

"I guess you're right," I said with a grin.  "But look at you, dating the Joshua Burrage.  You hit the jackpot."

Ginger flipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically.  "I know.  It doesn't even feel real sometimes," she said, returning to reality.  "But my heart is still pounding!"

"It better not be pounding too hard; you know what the doctors said," I said only partly teasing.

Ginger gently tossed a throw pillow at me.  "Stop it.  You're supposed to be the patient now, not me.  I've seen enough doctors to last me a lifetime.  If I see another ever again, it will be too soon."

"Let's hope you won't have to."

"Hey, can I sit here?" Ben asked quietly, returning from the kitchen with a small smile on his lips. 

"Yeah, of course," I said, my heart leaping at his arrival. 

"Well, I'm going to see if Josh needs any help cleaning up.  Just holler if you need anything," Ginger said, making a seamless exit.

Ben sat next to me on the loveseat and slipped his hand into mine.  "Don't worry, my hands are clean," he grinned.  "How's your nose?"

I removed the bag.

"It's looking better!" he replied encouragingly—not that I believed him.  I probably looked like a troll, but he would never admit it.

"I bet," I said, reapplying the peas. 

"No, really.  I'm not just saying that.  The ice pack definitely helped."

"It's a bag of peas.  Which seems weird that you don't have a legit ice pack since you're an actual dancer.  What do you do when you twist an ankle?"