Chapter 1
The fluorescent light buzzed over the exam cot and made the pale walls look even whiter. I sat on the crinkling paper sheet with my leg stuck out straight in front of me, the bright blue splint locked around it from my knee to my ankle, black straps pulled tight. It was supposed to keep me still. It was doing its job. The woman in the light blue scrubs knelt beside the cot and her hands were already on the straps, and that was the problem. My dad had picked those colors for a reason, and she was about to take them off me while the blood was still wet underneath.
I didn't want her to see what was under there. I didn't want anyone to.
My name is Ethan and I was seven that afternoon in the little exam room with the EXIT arrow over the door.
She leaned in a little closer and her voice stayed calm and clinical, the way adults do when they're trying not to scare you. Her dark hair was pulled back tight and her ID badge tapped against her scrubs when she moved.
"Let me see it," she said, and her fingers found the edge of the top black strap.
I curled my hands around my knee, right above where the plastic ended, and tried to hold everything in place. My heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. The room smelled like cleaner and that cold paper sheet.
"Don't take it," I said. My voice came out smaller than I wanted it to. I gripped harder. I didn't look at her face, I looked at her hands, at the Velcro making that little ripping sound as she loosened the first strap.
She didn't yank. She went slow, one strap at a time, her brow pulling together just a fraction. Second strap, third strap. The blue plastic loosened. Cool air hit my skin where the splint had been holding heat in. Then she eased the whole rigid shell away from my shin and the air changed.
Underneath, my leg didn't look like my leg anymore. The skin from my knee down was dark purple and red-black, scraped raw in patches, swollen tight and shiny. Blood had dried in lines over the abrasions and a fresh spot near my shin was still wet and open. I hadn't looked at it since it happened. Seeing it now with her made my stomach drop. She went still, her hand frozen around the blue splint, her mouth opening just a little before she caught it. I saw the alarm flash in her eyes and then she tucked it away, trying to keep her calm look for me.
I couldn't look at it either. I brought both hands up and covered my face, pressing my palms hard against my eyes. My breathing got loud and uneven in the quiet room. The fluorescent light kept buzzing.
"My dad gave me those colors," I said from behind my hands. It wasn't an answer to anything she'd asked. It was the only thing that felt true to say, the only reason I had for keeping it on even though it hurt.
May you like
She didn't say anything right away. She held the empty blue splint in one hand, her knuckles white around the plastic. I heard her breathe in once, sharp. Then she turned her head toward the door.
Footsteps sounded in the hall outside, getting closer. A shadow passed the little window in the door. Someone's knuckles tapped once against the wood, and the handle started to turn.
