"Sure." Logan settled into the cheap, plastic-coated armchair beside the bed and his friend swung his feet over the side of the bed to face him.
"Your bed doesn't have a feature for that?" Logan asked.
"You know, I keep asking the nurses to teach me how the bed works, but for some reason, they keep getting insulted."
Matt shot his best game-winning smile, but when Logan didn't laugh in return, the grin quickly faded.
"You and Andy are a couple of regular crack-ups lately," Matt said. "I swear, the two of you together may put me in stitches."
Sarcasm dripped from his words, but Logan shrugged it off. This was always how Matt operated, from the first second they'd met. There was nobody on earth less fit for serious conversation.
"I'm sure Andy is okay." Logan offered. If she was upset, she would get over it soon. It was all for the best. Better to hurt a little now than hurt a lot later. That's what he kept telling himself, at least.
Though for some reason knowing that Andy was just as miserable as he was only made the gnawing ache in his stomach multiply until he felt almost certain that his organs were collapsing in on themselves.
"I wouldn't be so sure." Matt moved his arm from the sling by his bed. It was the first time Logan had noticed it, and seeing it there, all swollen and connected to wires, was like living inside his nightmares. This was how Logan had always seen his friend in his mind's eye. A chill worked its way through him, and while he'd expected his friend to look away in his usual fashion, Matt surprised him.
"It's not so bad, you know," he said.
Logan couldn't be hearing him right. "What?"
"My wrist. It's a pretty minor thing. They just put me through all these extra tests to put me on the mend quicker. To send me out to the majors as soon as possible." He was quiet for a moment, his face mimicking his sister's thoughtful expression, and then he added, "The minors called me this morning. I got drafted to the San Diego team."
The minors? So it was official, then. Matt was out.
Even with all of the guilt, there had always been the hope that this wouldn't be the last of him. That maybe his career would change a little or he'd sit on the bench for a while, but that he'd be back on his feet.
This?
Forget every other nightmare he'd had before. This was the real nightmare.
"Matt, I—"
"You know the worst part of being friends with you?" Matt cut him off, pulling his legs back onto the bed and settling into the pillows again.
Here it came. The conversation he'd been waiting for. Their friendship was over.
He could think of a whole lot of things that Matt could list, but instead he said, "Enlighten me?"
"This look you got on your face right now."
Well, he hadn't expected that to be the lead in. He thought sister banging or career ruining would have at least made the top three, but if Matt wanted to slow roll into all that, he certainly wasn't going to deprive him of that. Logan deserved everything his friend could throw at him.
"Sorry?" he said.
"You got this look on your face like you're expecting me to hit you with a newspaper. You're sitting here, all moody, like some kind of goddamned Hallmark movie. Everything is fine, man. Stop being so hard on yourself—"
"Matt—"
"No, seriously. Ever since the accident, whenever I see you, the first thing you do is look at my wrist. I can hardly get you to make eye contact anymore. You've got to be easier on yourself, man. You need to listen to me when I tell you that it was an accident. It could have happened to anyone. And I forgive you."
Matt swallowed hard and silence filled the air between them. "So yeah. Cut the shit." Matt finished after a few moments had passed and Logan smiled. Well damned if Matt didn't have a few surprises up his sleeve.
"What about Andy?" Logan asked.
"What about her?" Matt raised his eyebrows. "You're not going to leave her, if that's what you mean."
"We're not together." Logan said.