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Summary
“Hi Anthony, how is your wrist?”
“Better,” Anthony says, lifting his slinged wrist.
She smiles and nods and then slips back into the kitchen to continue making dinner. Anthony follows Ian to his bedroom where he drops his bag on the floor next to the foot of Ian’s bed.
Then the two of them are alone in Ian’s room and they have been one hundred times before and so many times since that night six months ago, but maybe it’s the sling, the echoes of when Ian had his cast that makes the memory rise to the forefront of Anthony’s mind, or maybe it’s how he wanted to tell his dad – not that he’s going to tell Ian that – but either way, he’s thinking about that night, about what Ian felt like, looked like, sounded like.
Series
- Part 2 of Teenaged Fumbling