Paying the Piper

Fourteen: The Usual Bad Luck

Just because Ryland had a photo of Cale and thought Cale was suspicious didn't mean anything. Or so I tried to convince myself. Even though I had recently thought of Cale with his "serial killer" sentences.

Ryland could tell something was up with me, but I was unable to explain anything to him and just suggested we head back. We'd already been here bordering two hours and we still needed to compile our Environment Science project. He agreed, but seemed to be watching me more than before.

Just to compose myself and try to convince both of us nothing was wrong, I hesitated at the edge of the summit, taking in the view one more time.

As I turned to follow the path down, though, my foot stumbled on something—a rock, uneven ground, a mole hill: it happened so quickly I couldn't even say. Suddenly I was falling, with a sickening crunch sounding in the air. I landed on my knees, hard, and stared at the ground as I focused all my attention on bracing against sudden pain. My ankle. The tendrils of grass came into sharp focus as they blew in a gust of wind. The seeded tops waved and bobbed as other stalks prickled the inside of my hands. A big rock skittered down the trail, gathering dirt and additional pebbles as they all cascaded down the bluff.

"Faye, are you all right?"

Ryland was beside me, hands under my arms, hauling me up.

"Stop, stop," I panted, still focusing on pain control with my breathing. If I didn't think too hard about where the pain radiated from, I could handle it.

Between gritted teeth, I released a long breath. I couldn't believe I had sprained my ankle, especially on an outing with Ryland. I tramped through the woods all my life, stumbled over fallen logs, fell into mud puddles, was covered in stinging nettles, received scratches from all variety of branches and burrs. But I'd never sprained an ankle.

Ryland practically carried me to a fallen log. Now I was sitting, and he was looking at my ankles.

"I heard the crunch from where I was," he said, wincing for me. "It looks pretty bad."

Bracing, I finally dared to look down at my foot. Seeing the swelling forced me to acknowledge the damage and the pain. My left ankle was already as round as a tennis ball, and throbbing pain rose up my leg. I still had enough adrenaline from the shock that the pain wasn't too bad. It was more the shock itself that was making it hard to keep myself under control. I wanted to cry, but I definitely did not want to cry in front of Ryland. Holding myself together was more strain than it ought to have been, what with the pain control necessary too.

Ryland glanced at my face, where my eyes blurred despite myself—but no tears dared trickle out. Not yet. He rose and looked down the hill.

"I could run down the hill and ask for some people to help. I could call 911," he offered.

Trying to focus back on my breathing, I averted my eyes from my ankle. I consciously made the choice to keep my shoe on, or I probably wouldn't be able to get it on again. "I don't think that's necessary. I really don't want to deal with emergency services again." I wished at that moment I could fall into the In-between and use it as a shortcut back home.

"Yeah, I'm not thinking." Ryland ran a hand through his hair, and I realized that he was worried and stressed about this too—about me. Knowing that made the pain dull for a second.

"I think it's best if I just hobble down right now while the adrenaline is still pumping." Sucking in a breath, I shifted position so I could stand up using one foot.

Ryland stood at my side immediately, offering support and balance. I wanted to shun his assistance (I was Faye-who-doesn't-need-other-people, after all), but standing again renewed the pain in an entirely different way. I had to take a moment to catch my breath and get control of my pain again. Then I released his arm I had been clutching.