As soon as the water pours over her arm, she winces. I can see her jaw quivering from the force with which she's grinding her teeth.
"Does that hurt?"
"It doesn't feel great," she grits out.
"Stay here for fifteen minutes and it will feel better."
"Maybe I should…" She swallows, her eyes darting side to side without ever looking at me. "Maybe I should go to the hospital? My Gram could drive me."
"If you need to go to the hospital, I'll take you."
She frowns. "You don't have to take care of me. I can take care of—"
"Don't finish that sentence," I snarl. "If it wasn't for me, you'd still be standing in the corner with your arm on fire. Actually, if it wasn't for me, you'd be dead in an alley. Clearly, you can't take care of yourself."
"There was a lot going on! I was distracted!"
I nod in sarcastic agreement. "Okay, so you can only take care of yourself when everything is going perfectly and nothing stressful is happening. That's very realistic."
