"I think we're good for today," I said, stretching out my legs.
"Another practice this week and we should have this down," DeAndre agreed.
"Mom!" Tyler's voice called. "Mom!"
I exchanged glances with DeAndre. He went to find my mom and I hurried downstairs to see the commotion.
Shane was letting out cries of pain, his shaking hands clenching his knee.
I sat Shane up straight, knowing that he'd thank me later. "You're putting stress on your ribs and neck," I said. "Don't lean over the knee."
His face was wet with tears, his entire upper body now shaking.
"How did you drop an electric guitar on his knee?" I demanded to Tyler as I hurried into the kitchen to grab an ice pack.
"I thought he was going to catch it," Tyler called out.
"Unwrap his knee," I ordered, coming back.
"Don't touch it," Shane panted.
"Unwrap it," I ordered to Tyler, again.
He unsnapped the knee brace, and Shane let out another cry of pain.
"I can't do this," Tyler said. "Maybe it's better if we just-"
"Hold this," I said, shoving the ice pack into Tyler's chest. I unvelcroed the rest of the knee brace, much to Shane's despair and tears. I unwrapped the Ace wrap, and Shane began to scream.
"Trinity!" Tyler shouted. "What are you doing?"
I threw the Ace wrap to the side, taking the ice pack from Tyler. "Grit your teeth," I ordered to Shane, before placing the ice pack on the swollen knee.
"Holy shit!" he called out, clutching a pillow in his hands. "Oh mother of God."
"It'll be okay," I promised. "It's going to bruise, and it's going to hurt, but it'll be okay."
"I don't feel good," Shane said.
I refrained myself from correcting his grammar. "What do you mean?"
He began to massage his temples, his eyes closed. "I feel lightheaded."
"What do we do for that?" Tyler demanded to me.
"Take the neck brace off," I ordered, heading back into the kitchen for another ice pack. "And lie him down."
"And move the knee?" Tyler demanded. "Are you crazy?"
"Well what's worse?" I asked. "The pain in the knee or him passing out?"
"Sorry Shane," Tyler muttered.
"Pick up his knee and turn it so he can lie down," I said to Tyler.
Shane let out a few whimpers of pain as we laid him down, but didn't shout or scream like I anticipated.
I took off his neck brace and replaced it with an ice pack across the back of his neck.
"You're lacking oxygen," I explained to Shane. "You probably weren't breathing properly after Tyler dropped his guitar on you."
"You think?" Shane panted.
"Breathe," I ordered.
Tyler was pacing the floor, his hands laced behind his head.
"Give him ten minutes," I said.
"I don't like this feeling," Shane muttered, his eyes closed.
The doorbell rang, probably Nicole.
YOU ARE READING
Monroe Academy for the ArtsTeen Fiction
Completed. Thousands of students apply, and only 75 get in per year. This prestigious academy is seemingly perfect on the outside, it's every student's dream. But the students struggle to keep up the facade. Each student holds a secret, something de...