Page 36 of Warrior's Walk
No shit. I try to roll my weight to my left side, but that just makes me dizzier. “I’m stuck.”
“You mean you’ve fallen and you can’t get up?” he asks before dissolving into a fit of laughter.
“I’m serious, help me.”
With a loud groan, Mandy rises to his feet and shuffles into the kitchen, but he’s not the savior I thought he was. He fucking trips over my leg and falls flat on his face—on top of my body. Mandy is a big fucker, and I feel his weight crushing me like a building collapsing on its foundation.
In this metaphor, I'm the foundation.
“Ow! My leg!” It’s throbbing and feels like I’ve been stabbed through the knee by a sharp needle. That can’t be good. “Get off me.”
“I can’t,” he laughs.
“It’s not funny. Get off me. I can’t breathe. You weigh a fuck-ton.”
“I know,” he laughs harder. “I seriously can’t get up. I think I might piss myself in a minute.”
“Motherfucker, if you piss on me after nearly breakin’ my leg again, I’ll kill you.”
“Looking forward to it,” Mandy wheezes through tears of hilarity.
I don’t know why it seems funny, because it’s notat all, but his laughter is contagious, and now I’m laughing. Tears seep from my eyes and roll down into my ears.
“What the fuck do we do now?” I ask.
“Don’t know,” he sighs.
Mandy shifts his weight, and the stabbing pain in my knee subsides. We lay like this for a minute or two, neither of us speaking, and I realize we’re not going anywhere, anytime soon.
“I think the reason that guy didn’t tell you he had a date was because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings or upset you. Maybe he didn’t want to blow his chance with you.”
“I doubt it.”
“No, really. If he friend-zoned you, he’d be very clear that he was goin’ on a date, so you’d understand the rules.”
“What rules?”
“You know, not to cross the line. He didn’t tell you ’cause he wants you to cross it.”
“That sounds like terrible advice. I think you’re trying to fuck me over.”
“Why would I do that? You’re my ball buddy.” I reach up to pat his back in a friendly gesture.
“Do you think?” He sounds hopeful.
The last thing I want to do is take that from him, even if he did crush me under the weight of his body. “I really do. You should call him.”
“No! Drunk dialing is a terrible idea.”
“Yeah, usually,” I laugh.
“You gonna tell Riggs you like him?”
I lead with a snort. “He’d have to be stupid not to know. I think I’ve been pretty obvious.”
“Did he friend-zone you?” he asks.
“Worse; he patient-zoned me.”