Chapter 19: Chant to the Gay Gods
“Does it hurt?” I ask Trent and apply a baggie of ice to his swollen ankle.
He leans back in my sofa, resting. He has his eyes closed and his right leg is propped up on a plush ottoman that has seen better days and probably needs to be thrown in the trash. “I think I really twisted it. The pain is excruciating.”
“Do you want me to drive you to the hospital so you can have it checked out?”
“Of course not. Those places kill people. They reek of bacteria and flesh eating diseases. I’m better off here, in your hands.”
“I’m not a doctor, though. What if it’s fractured? What if it needs to be amputated?”
He provides me with an adorable smile, playing along with my joke. “Why don’t you just gnaw it off with your teeth, hungry man?”
I’d like to gnaw on some
