Chapter 6 #3
She eyed him long enough that he thought about squirming then climbed to her feet and crossed her arms. “Great.” But instead of skating off, she stood there, staring at him.
Crap.
There was no way he’d be able to get up in a dignified manner, and there was no way he wanted her to witness it. “I said I’m fine.”
“I heard.”
Dammit. She was probably going to hang around and watch whatever humiliation came next and enjoy it. Well, not if he could help it. “So, leave.”
“You leave.”
“Car-man?” Matty’s eyes searched Carson as if he was trying to diagnose a problem. “Are you okay?” he asked again.
Carson let out a breath as he attempted to de-escalate whatever game Liz was trying to play.
“Yeah, man.” This time, he was sure his smile was a bit more solid.
“I, uh, might need some help getting up, though. You think you can do that?” He held his hands out to Matty, ignoring Liz.
If she wanted to stay and be a creepy gawker, that was her problem.
“I don’t know,” said Matty. “You’re pretty big.”
Carson huffed a strained laugh. Good ole Matty. No filter whatsoever.
“Hey!” Matty announced to the small group still milling about in Carson’s general vicinity. “Come help! Car-man fell down, and he can’t get back up!”
Oh. My. God. Carson bit his lip. He was never living this down. Ever.
Hands took hold of him in more places than he would’ve thought necessary, but he was too busy breathing through the pain to pay much attention to them.
Once he was moving forward in a straight line it wasn’t too bad, but lifting his leg up to get off the rink and onto the carpet was almost more than he could handle.
He sank down onto one of the benches that lined the wall of the building as a few beads of sweat rolled down his back.
Fuck.
Pete hustled over and stopped next to Matty. “What the heck happened? I went to the bathroom, and next thing I know, the place is buzzing about someone getting mauled by a rabid raccoon.”
“That thing’s rabid?” Well, shit. Didn’t this day keep getting better and better?
“It wasn’t rabid. It was Dennis.” Matty plopped down in front of Carson and started untying his skates.
“Dennis?” he echoed.
Matty nodded, his focus still on the skates. “Janice’s Dennis.”
“That damn menace,” Pete muttered. When Matty glanced up at him, Pete said, “Carson prepaid, remember? Take a dollar out of the five he gave you.”
“Hey. That was my swear money,” Carson said. “Wait. There’s a raccoon in town named Dennis?”
“Yep. She treats that damn thing like her kid.” To Matty, Pete asked, “How many damns do I get for a dollar?”
“I’ll let you have three. Tonight only.”
Pete pursed his lips. “Did that last question count as one of them?”
Matty tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. Carson recognized it as his thinking face. “No. I’ll allow two more.”
Carson shifted as Matty worked his feet out of his skates and bit back a groan. Dammit. It was somewhere high up in his right thigh. Something hot and stabby that burned every time he moved that leg certain ways. What the hell had he done?
“You okay over there?” Pete asked.
“What? Yeah. Fine.”
“You sure about that? You look like that time my cousin Johnny got nailed in the nuts by a line drive.” Pete blanched and chanced a wary glance toward Carson’s upper legs. “Dennis didn’t get you in the nuts, did he?”
Carson cringed. “No, he did not.” Thank God for small favors.
“He did the splits!” Matty piped up. “One minute he was fine, and the next, all I saw was him flinging his arms all around while his legs went all crazy angles.”
Carson considered his description. “Yep. That about sums it up.”
“It was awesome!” Matty gave him two thumbs up and a huge grin for emphasis.
Yeah. Awesomely humiliating.
Pete wrinkled his nose. “You need me to take you anywhere? Doc Adams might have evening hours. If not, we can always give him a call. Or there’s the urgent care over in Red Grove that’s open until nine.”
“Nah. I should be fine.” As long as he didn’t have to move too much. Thank God he had a desk job.
“Well, alright. You let me know if you need anything, though.”
“Me, too!” Matty nodded vigorously.
“Will do,” Carson lied. No way in hell was he going to ask for help.
Best if he pretended it never happened. Kind of like his decision to come back to Cloverfield.
“But I’m good. Although I could use some cake right about now.
” Carson knew if there was one thing that might distract Matty, it was dessert.
Matty’s look of concern turned to one of joy. “Yes! Cake! That is exactly what this situation calls for!” He clambered to his feet and skated toward the party corner, dragging Pete behind him.
Thank fuck.
Carson steeled himself, pushed off the bench, and slowly straightened upright. Okay. So far, so good. But then he took a step, and the poker got him again.
Of course that was the moment he saw Liz. Watching him like a hawk.
What was up with everyone being nosy? Oh. Right. It was Cloverfield.
Well, everyone in town could just kiss his definitely not injured ass and stay out of his business. In and out in a few days. He’d be fine.
But first, he had to make it across the rink to get his shoes.