Crutches And Crushes

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Crutches suck.
The nurse didn't think it was broken, just badly sprained. She gave me an extra set just to use for today.
Seriously, how do people use these?
"So how'd you hurt yourself?" Quinn asks at lunch.
"You know me. Clumsy. I tripped," I say.
"How'd you get to the nurses?" She asks, flipping through the latest Teen Vogue.
Am I allowed to say that Ms. Pierce helped me? Are teachers allowed to touch students?
"I crawled," I lie.
It's one of my worst lies. Who could crawl halfway across campus?
Quinn gives me a weird look, but she doesn't care enough to question me.
I'm just mad because now there's no way of me ever rejoining Cheerios.
If I got a chance by some crazy act of luck, I'd be bottom of the pyramid, and honestly I'd rather not be on at all than be on bottom.
There's usually Cheerios practice during lunch. I'd be shaking pom poms right now.
"Ooh, that's a cute top!" Quinn gushes, thrusting the magazine in my face.
This is what I'm stuck with instead.
***********
My hand is cramping from taking so many notes during class.
I sigh in relief when the bell rings.
"Ms. Lopez! Stay for a second!" Ms. Pierce calls.
I crutch my way over to her desk. I think she's going to talk about this morning. The awkward conversation. But she doesn't.
"We have a pop quiz tomorrow," she says, scribbling something in a notebook.
"What's the point of having a pop quiz if you tell people about it?" I ask.
She looks annoyed.
"Do you want me to help you or not? I thought you'd like to know so you could study. Because you can't get Fs," Ms. Pierce says.
She's not looking at me as she talks. She's looking down, still writing.
"Thank you," I say.
"You can't afford Fs."
"No, I mean for this morning."
Ms. Pierce looks up. She coughs into her fist.
"I couldn't just let you lie there," she says.
"Coach Sue did it."
"I'm not Coach Sue."
Her hair is still in a neat ponytail. Her facial expression is professional, no emotion. I wonder what she looks like at home.
She's back to writing.
How long have I been staring?
Ms. Pierce looks up. I feel myself blush. Something flickers in her eyes. The corners of her mouth tug up into a smile, but she stops herself.
"Just study, ok?"
"Ok."
And then I'm crutching my way out of the class, feeling incredibly childish.

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