“Oh, I doubt that,” she said. “He’s just being melodramatic. You should’ve seen him the last time he got the flu. He was such a baby.”
“I hope you’re right,” Frederica said.
“Always am,” Karen said, and looked Frederica up and down. “What about you? Did you get hurt in the fall?”
“A couple scrapes,” Frederica said. “I picked up a healing factor from my sister years ago so I don’t really get hurt anymore.”
“Must be nice,” Karen said. “You probably shouldn’t mention that to Griffith while he’s recovering, though. Wouldn’t want to rub salt into the wounded pride.”
“If that’s all it is,” Frederica replied.
Half an hour later, Griffith came out of the room with a cast on his wing. Frederica rose to greet him but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. He turned for the elevator.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said brusquely.
Frederica glanced at Karen and followed Griffith to the elevator. Griffith pushed the call button and the three of them waited for the doors to open. After a long silence, Karen punched Griffith on the arm.
“Ow!” he snapped. “The hell was that for?!”
“You’re being an absolute douche right now,” she said.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Karen jabbed a thumb toward Frederica.
“You’re making this girl think you’re mad at her for your own dumbass mistakes.”
“No, I’m not!” He turned to Frederica. “Am I?”
She looked away.
“Well… kind of.”
“Shit,” he said, and sighed. “I’m not mad at you, Fred. Hell, I don’t even want to think of what might’ve happened today if you hadn’t been there.”
“I’m sure some other girl would have caught you,” Frederica replied.
“If there were another girl, you would’ve dropped me.”
“Hell, I’d have thrown you.”