When I was around 15, I was in my dorm and the weather was getting a little chilly. The building was very old and the windows usually stuck open or shut at the most inconvenient of times. This was on of those times - I pulled, pounded and pushed until it finally closed...... right onto my right thumb, breaking it in two places.
The plaster cast went from the first knuckle of my fingers to halfway up my elbow.
I was two weeks into the month I was supposed to wear it when another classmate (let's call him Archie Costello) had his own accident - he broke his wrist at football practice when he was tackled by the biggest guy on the team.
Now Archie was the kind of guy who just pissed you off by being so fucking perfect - effortless valedictorian, president of every cheesy extracurricular club, captain of the football team - your basic posterboy for pubescent heterosexual sublimity.
So he walks into our trig class the next morning, right arm clad in a cast identical to mine in every way, save one - in the 13 hours he'd had his cast on, he had managed to get it covered in signatures, well-wishes and lame platitudes in an assortment of fonts and colors. One glance and I could tell that a majority of these had come from female hands - all the more of an accomplishment since it was an all male school.
After I looked at his cast, I looked down at my own older cast - the only writing on it was from myself, a scribbled reminder to finish my term paper by the previous Monday. Talk about a perfect microcosmic description of my own existence up to that point in my life.
I couldn't stop thinking about the stark contrast even after class had started. So damn unfair! Like I needed another reminder of how unpopular and anonymous I was. Completely ignoring whatever lesson the teacher was trying to cover, I withdrew into my own private cavern of self-pity and abasement.
So I barely noticed when the bell rang and the class began to empty... except for Archie. I only realized he was there when he lifted my casted arm and started to write in bold red permanent marker -
"Get well soon
Your Brother In Arm,
Arch"
"People are going to think that we're trying to start a new fashion trend" he said with a smile as he called a few of his buddies over. I sat there mute and brainless as they doodled, drew and autographed on my own cast until soon it was a veritable replica of Archie's - minus the girly script.
My cast lasted longer than Archie's. He cut his off on his own after a week and a half in order to play in the Homecoming game. Mine came off a week later.
I still have it in a box in my attic.
