Great. He was a giant with a possibly broken foot and he was making jokes. Unbelievable. “What’s the plan here? Do you think you can put weight on it, or are we going to need to call an ambulance?”
They hobbled together for a few steps to more even ground, Jeff chanting to himself the whole time that he could freak out later. But when they got to the soft, loamy forest floor, Carter took one step and went ashen. Jeff caught him under the shoulder and helped ease him down to sit on a fallen log. “So that’s a no on walking.”
Carter’s chest heaved as he breathed through the pain. “I can try it again. Just give me a minute.”
Jeff looked skeptically at his foot, which he was not even putting any weight on while sitting down. “Unless you plan on crawling instead—that was not a serious suggestion—I think we’d better make the call.”
Carter groaned. “No, it’ll take forever to get the ambulance down here, and the roads aren’t exactly designed for it. And the sirens are disruptive to wildlife.” He shifted on the stump until he could worm his hand into the pocket of his athletic shorts, which Jeff was now unavoidably aware were also wet and clinging obscenely. It wasn’t like Jeff hadn’t seen Carter’s dick before, but that was close to twenty years ago, and he hadn’t had a sex drive at the time, so it didn’t count. Finally Carter produced a soggy set of keys. “Here. Go back to the truck and drive it up the road. If we head inland from here, I think I can make it with your help.”
Carter’s truck was parked maybe a kilometer and a half from there. Jeff could get to it quickly on the forest trail—much more easily than he would over the rocky shore. He was lucky they hadn’t been farther along in their trek. “All right,” Jeff said dubiously, glancing once more at Carter’s ankle. “Sit tight.”
Jeff didn’t exactly run to the truck. He was distracted enough to know that wasn’t a good idea; they’d really be up shit’s creek if theybothhurt themselves. But within ten minutes, he’d moved the truck to the closest spot to the trail. A quick check of the glove compartment revealed some ibuprofen and a basic first aid kit, and he grabbed those along with a half-empty bottle of water from the cupholder, which he shoved in his pocket.
Carter was approximately twenty yards closer to the road than Jeff had left him, perched on a lichen-encrusted boulder.
“What part of ‘stay put’ did you not understand?” He looked even worse than he had before, sweat beading on his forehead, face twisted with obvious discomfort.Idiot.Jeff thrust the bottle of ibuprofen at him. “Take these. Now.”
He expected Carter to argue, but he really must feel like crap, because he took two and washed them down with the remaining water without comment. Jeff sat on the ground in front of him and positioned the first aid kit next to him. “There’s a tensor bandage in here, but I wasn’t exactly a Boy Scout. You know how to use one?”
Carter nodded. “You’re gonna have to take my shoe off. Sorry. If I’d known, I’d have gotten a pedicure.”
Jeff untied his laces and loosened them, then braced his left hand on the back of Carter’s calf and worked the shoe off as gently as he could. Carter’s sock was soaked, so that came off too.
The red, nasty swelling started midway up his foot and ran all the way to the ankle. “All right, next step?”
“Start wrapping at the toe. Try to keep the bandage from folding and make it tight. The idea is to compress it to stop it from swelling.”
Jeff propped Carter’s foot on the first aid kit and got to work. He wound the bandage over and under, keeping his touch light and the bandage taut. Finally he pulled the flimsy aluminum butterfly clip out of the first aid kit and hooked the end in the stretchy material. “I always thought these things seemed poorly designed.” But it held.
Standing, he picked up the shoe with the sock stuffed inside and the first aid kit in one hand and offered Carter the other. “You need a minute, or are you ready?”
Carter grabbed on and pulled himself up. “Let’s get it over with.”
Limping down the trail was significantly easier than Jeff anticipated—maybe not so much for Carter, who was probably working harder than he needed to to avoid putting too much weight on Jeff. “Does this remind you of that one three-legged race?”
Carter huffed with exertion or laughter as they inched closer to their destination. “Don’t make me laugh. Next time I’m choosing a taller partner.”
Better than allowing Jeff to suffer the indignity of Carter practically dragging him over the finish line. “Next time maybe just watch your step.”
They reached the truck, and Jeff moved the passenger seat all the way back so Carter could get in.
Jeff got in the driver’s seat and took out his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting directions to the nearest clinic.”
“I’ll be fine,” Carter insisted. “Just take me home and I’ll ice it.”
Yeah, right. Jeff remembered watching one of Carter’s high school hockey games where he took a hit to the head that should’ve kept him out of the rest of the game. He decided to continue to play, only to fall flat on his back five minutes later. Carter wouldn’t go to the doctor if he was bleeding out from an arterial wound.
“Sorry, can’t hear you,” Jeff said as he started the engine. “Too much horsepower. Hey, isn’t this thing super environmentally unfriendly?”
“Jeff—”
Finally Jeff’s phone managed to get a good enough signal to direct him to the nearest urgent care center.
“Follow the road for two kilometers,” Google instructed.
