“You can not be serious.” I pinched the bridge of my nose hard enough to start it throbbing as Alejandro awkwardly crawled into the passenger seat and wedged his crutches in the gap between us. “There’s no way I’m taking you in to work like this.”

“It is too late, David.” His soft Argentinian accent held out the first syllable in my name just a beat too long, compensating for the stress he naturally wanted to put on the second. “I have already told Callie I am coming.”

“Then call her back and tell her you’re not. You know what, I’ll call her.” I fumbled in my pocket and immediately felt the absence. Alejandro held up my phone with a pale shadow of his usual grin.

“How do you think I called her, amigo? Mine was smashed, remember?”

How could he grin over something like that? My hands trembled on the steering wheel, and I gripped it tighter.

“How are you going to hand out ice cream on crutches, hot shot? Are you sure they cleared you for a concussion? Because you’re sure not thinking straight.”

“I will maybe need more practice for that.” Alejandro wrinkled his nose a little as he glanced at the crutches. “For today, I can sit and watch the register while Callie scoops the ice cream. This will not be hard.”

“That’s not the point.” I squeezed my eyes shut hard, then blinked them clear and tried to focus on the road as I put my junker in gear. “You’ve got a broken leg, for crying out loud! You need to rest—like actually rest—probably for a week, and you’re not even giving yourself a day.”

“Since Mitchell quit, there is no one to take my place. I cannot leave Callie alone there with the cash box.” His voice was low and serious, and he didn’t bother to hide the pain lurking beneath it. Of course it would be Callie—five-foot, fuzzy-headed, spitfire Callie, who’d probably weighed a hundred pounds sopping wet before the chemo and who’d only missed one day of work through her whole round of treatments, even as her bandanas grew more and more flamboyant to distract from her skeleton-like appearance. And Alejandro the loyal-hearted was much too noble to leave her at the mercy of the neighborhood thugs. Which was the entire problem.

“And you’re going to protect her how? Kick the thieves with your cast? Or hit them with your crutches?” My nails bit into the skin of my neck as I gripped it, shooting a glance up at the light. An angry red glare pierced the dark of my sunglasses, and I looked away again.

“It will be all right, amigo. I will prop it up when I come home tonight, and sitting on a stool will not be hard.”

“Of all the boneheaded stunts—” I caught myself just in time as my voice rose toward a shout and changed it to a hiss. “You were hit by a truck, Alexandro! They can close the place down for a day, for all I care. If you make it through an eight-hour shift, it’ll only be because you’re too stubborn to admit when you’ve bitten off more than you can chew!”

The road blurred and swam in front of me, and I scrambled to blink it back into focus as the glare from the traffic light shifted to green.

“David?” Alejandro’s tone was suddenly soft with concern. “Something is wrong?”

“Aside from you refusing to use the brains God gave you? Sure, everything’s fine. Why do you ask?”

“You only say my name so badly when you are very frazzled.” The concern in his voice was thick, and I didn’t dare glance over at him, even to rib him about where on earth he picked up these words. “Your head is worse? Should I drive instead?”

“For Pete’s sake!” I nearly choked on the lump that rose in my throat, and my voice faltered. “No, you shouldn’t drive. You’re in a cast, or didn’t you notice? This rotten migraine nearly got you killed today. Driving you back is the absolute least I can do.”

“Oh, David.” Alejandro rested a hand gently on my shoulder. “Do not do this. The accident was not your fault.”

“It was my errand. You think I can forget that?”

“And I am your friend. Why would you forget that? You did not even ask my help.”

He was right; I hadn’t, but the wave of relief I’d felt when I woke to find the note he’d left next to my switched-off alarm had made the guilt even deeper when the call came from the hospital. I fought back the stinging sensation pricking my eyes. No use making it even harder to keep them focused on the road.

“I am sorry you had to come for me.” Remorse cut deep in Alejandro’s tone, and I gripped the steering wheel so tightly I could have snapped it.

“You’re sorry. You’re sorry? Because I had to drive the five blocks to the hospital after you took a bus across town with what—four hours of sleep?—to drop off my package, and almost got yourself killed in the process? Because I had to force myself and my silly headache out of bed for an hour to pick up my best friend, who’s incidentally planning to work a full shift on a broken leg? Yeah, sure, I’m the one who deserves sympathy here.” I suddenly knew I was going to be sick, and not just from the smothering migraine. I sucked in deep, calming breaths, trying to focus on the license plate of the car in front of me and ignore the strobing flash of its turn signal.

“Never mind the ice cream shop.” Alejandro’s voice was low, but I was too far gone to read his tone. “Just take us home.”

Six blocks closer. My body screamed in relief as I turned onto our street and inched into the parking spot with the faded 29, empty for once by some miracle. But just the thought of the two flights of exterior stairs was dizzying enough to send me stumbling for the bushes, where I lost the few crackers I’d downed on my way to the hospital and whatever was left of yesterday’s lunch. Steadying myself with a hand on the wall, I finally made my way over to where Alejandro sat five steps up, out of the reach of the blinding sunlight.

“You ready to do this, hot shot?” I wasn’t sure I’d legitimately be any help to him, but even just giving him a cushion to fall on would be something, and maybe take away some of the guilty sting.

Alejandro shook his head and motioned to the step. Waiting probably wasn’t the best approach, but I couldn’t muster up the will to argue. I sank down next to him and rested my head against the railing, and Alejandro held out my phone.

“Go back upstairs and sleep. Callie is coming to pick me up.”

I buried my face in my arm, too worn out to hold back the tears any longer. Had it really come to this? Alejandro could push through the pain of a broken leg to be there for a coworker, and I couldn’t even drive the full distance to drop him off, let alone offer to cover for him like I should have. I ought to find him a new roommate, one that wouldn’t force him to watch every scent he brought into the house, make him keep his music confined to his earbuds, or be totally unavailable to help in an emergency on a schedule no one could predict.

“Your headaches are not silly.” Alejandro spoke softly, his voice sad and serious. “I have seen what they do to you. How much worse they become when you try to fight them. I do not blame you for that. I could not. You should not blame yourself.”

His words only tightened the miserable knot in my gut.

“If I’m such a weakling that I can’t help a friend, then maybe I shouldn’t have any.”

“Weak?” The surprise in Alejandro’s tone sounded genuine. “David, of course you are not weak. I admire your strength always.”

“What?” Shock made the word too sharp, and my ears rang. I swallowed back the pain and forced my eyes open to meet the concern in Alejandro’s. “You’re kidding me, right? What on earth is strong in—this?” I gestured vaguely at myself, and Alejandro shook his head.

“You truly do not see it? How brave it is every day that you get up and try again? How you forgive and do not throw me from the house when I forget not to bring home leftovers from Mama Rosa’s? How when the doctors give no cure, you choose to live in spite of the pain? I see how much it hurts you. How you want to do so much more. But you do not give up. You do not shut out your friends, even when life is hard. I treasure your friendship, David. So much. You should not be out of bed, but you heard I was hurt, and you came. You think this is weakness? I think it is strength. I will remember it when my leg complains later that you were right. I will try to be as strong as you.”

“That’s—” I couldn’t speak around the lump in my throat for a minute. “You can’t be serious. I’m your example? There’s no way.”

“You do not believe it? You do not think I have noticed when you get up and turn off the hall light yourself when it bothers you instead of making me? Or when you stop catching up to talk with me on the days you have so much to do? You are such a friend to me always. Why do you think I wanted to help you today?”

Was that truly how he saw those incidents? Equal to everything he’d done for me? The thought was too much for my throbbing head, and I pressed my eyes shut again.

“How did you even know? This one hadn’t started when you left yesterday.”

Alejandro chuckled softly.

“It is not hard, amigo. You did not snore.”

“Wait, what?” I squinted over at him, and he grinned.

“You snore like—” He paused, reaching for an idiom, but finally gave it up with a shrug. “Like something very loud. But only when you sleep deeply. The headaches—you cannot sleep deeply with them. So I know.”

Alejandro knew more of my patterns than I knew myself, apparently. Did that mean there was any chance he could be right about the rest?

A sharp honk from the parking lot spun my world in circles, and Alejandro winced.

“I will tell her to keep the noise down. You are okay to make it?” He glanced up the stairs, and I swallowed hard.

“Yeah. I’ll make it. Are you sure you will?”

“I will make it, amigo. We will both make it together.”

I wanted to nod, but my swimming head wouldn’t have taken it kindly, so I gave him the bit of a smile I found I could scrape together instead.

“If you need to come home early, call. I’ll be there—if I can.”

“I know you will.” Alejandro flashed a smile that shone like the sun but didn’t burn my eyes as he scooted himself down the stairs, balanced on his crutches, and made his clumsy way to Callie’s car.