“Well, I'm not anymore,” he grumbles.
“What did you do today?” I ask.
“What?” His brows squeeze together in confusion.
“I want to know what you did today.”
“Nothing really. I took Drake to the rink for a couple of hours. We played catch when we got back, had supper, and started watching the movie.”
“You applied yourself in some excruciating activities then.”
“What? What are you talking about, Emily?”
There he goes again, calling me Emily. He's so grouchy! After everything he's done today, you can't tell me that he's exhausted at nine thirty. Nine thirty! You would think that he's been going at it, back to back, since this morning.
“You're leaving tomorrow and I didn't even get a goodnight kiss. You're already asleep, for heaven's sake. I'm not going to see you for at least two weeks and the night before you leave, you're just going to sleep?!” I throw my half of the covers at him and proceed to crawl over him. Once I'm off the bed, I whirl around to snatch my pillow and yank the comforter.
“What are you doing?”
“I'm going downstairs,” I say, already halfway to the door.
“Why?”
I halt and with such deliberation, I turn to face him. “Because you're an ass,” I say cooly. Satisfied, I turn and head to the door.
“Emily,” he begins.
“Don't call me that!” I hurry out of his room and down the steps. All I want is to stomp on each and every step. I'm doing well so far, but then everything blurs before me as I trip over the hanging blanket and fall down the steps. Pain radiates in my left ankle and already, tears are falling.
“Emily!” Jake's voice booms as he rushes down the stairs, where I'm a mess at the bottom, both hands clutching my knee because I'm terrified to touch my ankle. Hell, I'm scared to look at it with how bad it hurts. Jake kneels down beside me.
“It hurts,” I whine.
“There's some swelling already.” He moves to touch it.
“Don't touch it! It hurts enough. You don't need to touch it.”
“Okay, okay.”
“What's going on?” a sleepy Drake asks from the top of the stairs.
“Buddy, go get dressed. Emily's hurt herself and we need to take her to the hospital.”
“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned.
“Yeah,” I manage. “Just go get dressed.”
“Let me get some ice for you before I go put some clothes on too, and I'll be right back.”
Jake leaves and I sneak a look at my ankle. It's swollen but it doesn't look too deformed. That's good, right? I hear the ice machine dispensing and a minute later, Jake is handing me a bag full of it.
“I'll be right back,” he repeats about to head upstairs.
“Grab my bra, please.”
He nods and disappears.
Carefully, I lower the ice onto my ankle and it feels like the worse decision ever. I take deep breaths through my nose to distract myself, but it doesn't work. Practically all the lights are on in the house now and Drake's eyes widen as he comes down the steps, taking a seat on the last one.