Girls in Pants - Ann Brashares [28]
“If you’ll just rest your arm over my shoulder I can support your leg,” the guy coaxed her. He got himself in position and nodded to Carmen as if to tell her it was time to lift. She complied.
Valia moaned again, but they had her off the floor.
“Valia, the emergency room is right around the corner. We’ll take you right there, okay?” Her voice couldn’t have been gentler.
Valia nodded. The ferocity had abandoned her features for once, and they settled sort of sweetly into her face, even in spite of her obvious pain.
Ready? the nonhateful guy mouthed to Carmen. Suddenly they were partners.
They began to walk, Carmen murmuring reassuring things into Valia’s ear. On the way out of the shop, Carmen’s arms were so occupied she couldn’t catch the door as it swung behind her. The sharp edge of the metal doorframe caught her hard on the back of her arm. Carmen did all she could not to stagger or groan. She pressed her lips together and tried not to release the tears loading up her eyes. She noticed that the guy was looking at her. He glanced at her arm. She didn’t see the blood until he did.
She shrugged a little. It’s okay, she mouthed over Valia’s head. She vowed not to let her tears go.
In the emergency room, they eased white-faced Valia carefully into a chair. Then Carmen shifted into a mode of pure efficiency. She talked her way to the front of the line, collecting forms she promised to fill out as soon as Valia was in the hands of a doctor. By some miracle, Carmen discovered that one of the emergency room doctors spoke Greek, and before long Valia was safely, gratefully in an examining room, the Greek words a palliative in her ear.
Then Carmen remembered about the nonhateful guy. When she returned to the waiting room, he was still there, elbows resting on knees in a plastic emergency-room chair.
“Thank you,” she said immediately and earnestly. “That was really, really nice of you.”
“Is she okay?” he asked.
“I hope so. There’s a doctor who speaks Greek, which made her happy. He seemed to think she might have torn a ligament in a knee, but he didn’t think she broke any bones, which is the good news. They’re gonna do an X-ray just in case.”
It was funny to have all this to say, to have this whole project in common with a guy whose name she did not know.
She sat down next to him. He produced a damp paper napkin he’d been holding. “For you.” He pointed to her arm.
“Oh, God. Right.” The blood had stopped flowing and started to dry, but it looked a bit gory nonetheless. She wiped it off with the napkin. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Totally fine. It’s a scratch.” It was more than a scratch, but she liked the feeling of being brave.
She looked at the streaky red napkin. He looked at her.
“So…thank you so much. Again,” she said quietly. Carmen wanted to signal to him that he was free to leave, but he didn’t appear to want to leave just yet.
He was still looking at her, like he was trying to figure something out.
“I work here,” he offered to the silence.
“Really?”
“Well, volunteer is more accurate. I’m premed, so I, you know, want to spend time in the real world of medicine. To see if I’m up to it.”
“I bet you are.” Carmen blushed, surprised that she had let that out of her mouth.
“Thanks,” he said, looking down for the first time.
They were silent for a minute or two. He was wearing brown Pumas. He had the goldish sparkle of whiskers on his face like a real grown-up man. His hair had the extra shiny quality of someone who spent a lot of time in a pool. His shoulders were wide and his torso was strong and lanky—most definitely the build of a swimmer.
“Is she your grandmother?” he asked.
“Oh. Valia? No. She’s…well, she’s my…actually, she’s my friend Lena’s grandmother. I was bringing her here for some tests—I mean, not the emergency room. That wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Right.” He smiled. He was looking at her upper arm again.
Shallowly, she felt pleased that she’d injured a part of her body she felt was particularly good to look at.
“Maybe you’ll have to come back again. For the tests,