Carlos' point of view:
'That can not be true!' I think, as I look at Logan, who is lying in a hospital bed. There are white bandages around his head, his left arm and his shoulder. He looks awful. And that's just our fault…
"How are you feeling?" Kendall asks, worried. Logan moans. "As if I had been used as a puck."
This comment makes us smile. It's quiet for a moment, then Kendall says in a serious voice, "We're really sorry, Logan. That's all our fault. We shouldn't have done that. It was a stupid idea."
Logan shakes his head and then grimaces in pain. "No, Kendall, your idea was great."
"But we should have known that Mr. Roberts can't be fooled," I say. I thought about that all morning. "He's so..."
"Crazy," James concludes grimly. Logan sighs. "How did he find out?"
"This isn't the time for that. You need rest and the answer could upset you too much. We promised the doctor not to upset you and not stay long," Kendall says evasively. Logan shakes his head helplessly and grimaces again. Then he suddenly asks, "Where is Camille?"
"She is outside. Together with mom, Katie and Jo," Kendall explains.
"She's probably worried about me."
"You can assume that," James replies, leaving the room.
Nobody says a word in the following minutes. Unobtrusively, I watch Logan. Every now and then he rubs his left arm or his head. The pain seems really bad. I'm so sorry for him. He is always the one who gets hurt, no matter how. That's not fair! I feel tears in my eyes and try to dry them. Logan has luckily not noticed, but Kendall. Then there's a knock on the door and James comes in again, followed by Camille.
"We'll wait outside," Kendall mumbles, walking out with James and me. As James precedes, Kendall lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it gently. "Are you okay?" He asks in a whisper so that James doesn't notice. I shrug because I really have no idea.
Logan's point of view:
Worried, Camille sits down next to me. Carefully she raises a hand and strokes my cheek. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," I reply, knowing she doesn't believe me.
"Why are you lying to me?"
I sigh. "Because I don't want you to worry so much about me."
She smiles and kisses me on the cheek. Before she can say anything else, the door opens and a doctor enters the room. "Mr. Mitchell, how are you?"
"The pain is ... uncomfortable."
He nods understandingly. "You'll probably have to stay for a few days. After all, you have a concussion, a sprained arm, and a heavy shoulder bruise."
I nod sullenly.
"If you want, I'll give you a painkiller so you can rest and sleep a little. You should rest as much as you can."
I nod in agreement and he hands me a few tablets. After taking them, he says, "I'll check on you later. If there's anything, let me know."
"All right. Thanks."
He nods to me and then goes out. I look at Camille. "Will you come back later?"
She smiles and nods. "Of course."
I close my eyes and wait for the painkiller to work. After a short time I feel how the pain is getting less and how suddenly the fatigue spreads in me. Camille kisses me on the cheek again and says softly, "See you later. Sleep well." She gently strokes my head and then goes out. As she closes the door, I fall asleep.
