I've Never Told A Lie

“OH SHIT!”
Alex’s voice seems far way yet unnaturally loud. Though it hurts, I struggle to open my eyes and find myself staring up at Alex’s concerned face. His concern turned to relief in a second when he saw I was still alive. He holds out his hand to help me up. My scraped elbows burn as I prop my body up on them and I look around, confused and dizzy.
“C’mon, I’ll take you home,” Alex still has his hand out. I reach for his strong grip but as soon as my right foot touches the ground, a shooting pain goes up my entire leg and I stumble awkwardly, blubbering in pain. Alex catches me before I fall again and I limp over to a rock to examine my ankle. Rolling my back my jeans, the sight of my ankle makes me dizzy all over again. It’s swollen and bruised and covered in dirt from the forest ground. Alex comes over to take a look.
“Um, I think you broke your ankle,” Alex points out.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” I snap at him, suddenly realizing my early morning runs are thing of the past. He ignores the jab and grabs his guitar from where he left at the bottom of the boulders. Slinging it behind him, he comes over to me and tries to put my arm around his shoulder. His guitar bumps into my side as I get up, keeping my ankle off the ground. We walk a few steps forward then stop.
“This isn’t working,” he says, trying to keep the guitar from banging into me.
“Maybe, you can leave the guitar here, drop me off and then come back for it,” I suggest. He looks at me as if I told him to leave his first-born child behind, rather than his instrument.
“Okay then, you think of something.” My ankle is throbbing and the forest is freaking me out, I just want to go home.
“Hey, I’ll just call my friend, Jack, and he’ll take you home in his car.” Alex pulls out his phone and dial’s the guys number.
“Pick up the phone, Jack,” Alex mumbles, but after a few seconds, he slides the phone into his pocket and turns to me, bad news written all over his face.
“Umm, Jack didn’t pick up….so I guess, yeah.”
“What are we gonna do?” I ask, nervously. With a loud sigh, Alex silently takes his guitar and stows it behind the pile of rocks, his face showing that the action’s killing him.
“Okay, let’s do this” he says coming over to where I’m sitting and with a little grunt of effort, picks me up off the rock.
“Okay, so what’s your address, Taylor?” He sounds like he’s dying under my weight.
“I am not that fat, Alex,” I grump, then tell him my address. Adjusting my weight again, he begins carrying me home. He smells so good, like cologne and boy and I scoot closer to his warm belly. Suddenly, the past week’s events combined with Alex’s warm grip make me very tired. With a last look up at Alex’s determined face, I close my eyes to his gentle humming and fall asleep.