“Hey dork, how’s it hanging?” I scowl at him. “What no pithy comeback? You’re losing your edge, Lelliot.”
“Fuck off, Chris.” He’s right. The bromance is gone and taken my witty banter with it.
“Don’t be a prick. I come baring news and I need to see you put your game face on.” I don’t know if he gets it but unless he is going to give me news on a miracle pain cure and a ten day plan to get my weak as piss legs back, then I actually couldn’t give a fuck.
“Say it and then get the fuck out. My dance classes are about to start.” I wheel myself over to the free weights as a signal to him that the visit is over. Prick doesn’t take a hint. He stalks over behind me and grabs the wheelchair handles spinning me around to face him.
“You’re an ass, Elliot. Don’t make me kick you.” He glares at me. Instead of taking the warning I push back away from him and turn around again reaching for a 60lb dumb bell, wanting for the world to turn around and throw it at his head. “Linc’s been released.”