Jett

 

Silver County Medical smells like plastic and rubbing alcohol. The fluorescent lights are too bright and the staff is too cheery for this early in the morning. I yawn and cover my mouth with my hand. The paper cover of the exam bed crinkles under my weight.

In the chair across from me sits my girlfriend, her head resting in her hand. She’s exhausted too. We probably shouldn’t have stayed up all night last night binge watching Netflix, but what’s done is done. The Flash is a pretty damn good show and we couldn’t stop watching it even though we knew I had a 9 a.m. doctor appointment this morning.

There’s a knock on the door and then the doctor comes in. He’s young, probably fresh out of medical school, and he’s smiling brightly as if he did the responsible thing and got plenty of sleep last night. “Ready to get this cast off?” he asks.

“Hell yes I am.”

The doctor uses a cast saw thing, which I’ve seen a dozen times in my life, but it’s new to Keanna.

“Is that a saw?” she asks, eyes wide in fear.

“Kind of,” the doctor says, showing it to her. “The blade isn’t sharp by itself. It vibrates very quickly and that’s what cuts off the cast. It won’t cut skin.”

He turns it on and touches it to the back of his hand, and sure enough, there’s no cut underneath the blade. Keanna lifts an eyebrow, but doesn’t look very convinced as she leans forward in her chair, biting on her bottom lip.

The doctor cuts into the side of my cast, and the vibrations tickle a little. My skin is warm where the saw cuts through the cast, but it doesn’t hurt. Soon, he’s halfway down and then he starts up the other side.

“You’ll need to take it easy,” he warns me as he works the saw through the cast. “Your leg won’t be back to one hundred percent for a couple of weeks.”

“It’s all good,” I say, glancing at Keanna who is looking very concerned at my leg. “I’ll take December off and then get back to the winter series that kicks off in January.”

The cast is pried off my leg, revealing one pasty ass white appendage that doesn’t match my other one at all. My leg hair is all matted up and my ankle is weak, but I can move it. Finally.

“Freedom!” I say, pumping my fist in the air.

Keanna rolls her eyes. The doctor laughs, and finishes his examination.

When it’s time for me to stand on my own two feet for the first time in forever, Keanna rushes to my side, throwing my arm around her shoulders. She’s so cute and loving and caring and I think I might explode from the warm fuzzy feeling it gives me.

We walk down the hallway and back up again, much slower than I’d like, but it’s something. I’m walking again. I’m no longer relying to Crutchy to get me places.

Keanna drives us home in her Mustang, and I spend the entire ride home moving my ankle up and down and back and forth. I missed being able to do this. Also, I am in serious need of a tan from the knee down. Now that it’s almost winter, I won’t be wearing shorts much so this ungodly uneven tan I have will probably last until spring.

My parents are having lunch with Keanna’s parents, and they brought the babies with them, so we’re all alone.

Keanna insists on keeping her arm around my waist as we walk into my house. I’m a little weak, sure, but I’m fine. Still, I hold onto her shoulders and let her help me because she cares so much and I’m so grateful to have a girl like her on my side, looking after me. I’ve heard all kinds of stories in my life about how motocross girlfriends tend to dump a guy when he’s no longer winning races. Keanna isn’t like that, not one bit.

“So what do you want to do with your newfound leg freedom?” she asks me as she pours us a cup of sweet tea.

I sit on the barstool and consider it for a moment. “I want to get on my bike,” I say, and that earns me a quick glare from my girlfriend. I laugh. “I know I can’t do that right now, so I think I’ll go for the next best thing.”

Keanna leans on the kitchen island, her elbows squeezing her boobs together as she takes a sip of her tea. “What’s that?”

I grin. “Take a shower. A real one. Standing up in the hot water with my leg not wrapped in a freaking trash bag.”

She laughs. “Probably a good idea. It’s no telling how bad your leg smells right now.”

I use the handrail to help me hobble up the stairs, and by the time I’m in my room, Keanna is already in my bathroom, running the hot water.

“Baby,” I say, leaning against the bathroom door frame. “I love you so much, but when you do all these things for me, I feel bad.’

“Why would you feel bad?” she asks, setting a clean towel on the towel rack for me. “I’m just helping. I’m happy to do it.”

“I know. But you don’t have to do those things. I should be doting on you.”

“It’s a two way street,” she says, pressing her hands flat on my chest as she leans up and kisses me. “I’m happy to do things for you.”

She starts to step away and I stop her with a hook of my hand around her back. I tug her close and kiss her on the lips, harder than I mean to. She sighs against me, her body pressing all up against mine. Her breasts feel amazing, and I can’t help but picture what they’d feel like if there weren’t shirts in between us.

The shower fogs up the air around us, casting a steamy glow on the mirror.

“I need your help with one more thing,” I whisper into her ear.

“What’s that?” she says, giving me this adorably not-so-innocent look.

“It’s been a while since I showered without a cast on my leg.” I slide my finger down her side and up again. “I think I might need some help.”

Her cheeks turn pink and then she gives me a sultry look, as if she’s already undressing me with her eyes. “Like I said earlier,” she says as she slides her hands up under my shirt and lifts it over my head. “I’m happy to help.”

 

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