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Turning 18 was never so much fun.

Alex grunted under his breath.

I scooted over, took Alex's hand and carefully, very slowly, pushed myself out of the car, all the while moaning and groaning.

"Hmmph, I'm gonna need you to-" I straightened my legs, not putting any weight on my right leg.

I groaned as he took me, and I leaned into him. "I've got you. I've got you."

"Gustaf keeps winking at me," I whispered, but I wasn't angry or anything.

"I'll kick his ass later for you."

The trunk closed and Gustaf came to us. I gathered up my courage and tried to take a step with my right leg. "Ow, ow ... ow, shit."

"Whose ass are you-" He stopped when he saw me struggling. "Can I help?" His voice was genuinely concerned.

I said no, but Alex said yes. Maybe I needed a little more help than I thought. "Please, Gustaf. Um, my right arm's pretty sore, so if you could-"

Alex grabbed a hold of my waist. "Put your arm around me, Carrie." I did without a second thought. "Gustaf, you do the same."

"Geez, Alex. I don't need-"

"Yes, you do," he said firmly. "And if you even attempt to argue with me, I'll put you right back in the car where you'll sit until you decide not to be so damned stubborn." His tone was playful, but I took the hint. I growled at him but smiled.

So, I had a Skarsgard on each side of me holding me up, slowly progressing up the sidewalk, and it was going well. I was hopping on my good leg, the guys both bent over because I was much, much shorter than them.

"This must be a sight," Gustaf said. "Three people and seven legs."

I was about to tease the guys that I was the cream filling in a Skarsgard cookie when I made the mistake of instinctively stepping on my right foot. I cursed loudly and had to stop. My head was beginning to spin terribly and was feeling a little nauseas.

"Hang in there. We're right at the door," Alex said reassuring. The door opened seemingly on its own until I saw a woman holding the door for us. "Tack." Thank you was one of about five Swedish translations I knew. "Hey, hey," he said as he hit the button to the elevator.

"Carrie, lean into me. Gustaf, let go." When he let go, Alex cradled me stronger in his arms. My ears ringing loudly, I wrapped both arms around him, put my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. The elevator opened and he guided me in.

"Alex, she's looking really pale," Gustaf commented.

I felt his body shift. Wiping the side of my face, he said, "Yeah, she is. We're almost there, sweetheart. We'll get you straight into bed and you can sleep for three days if you need to."

"Hmm," I muttered. "I can barely handle one Skar-"

"Hey, Gustaf," Alex interrupted, his voice much louder than it needed to be, which startled me a little. "Tell Granma I'm sorry I won't be able to make it ..." I then lost my hearing.

The next thing I knew I was laying on a bed, my legs over the edge. I screamed bloody murder, crying, as it felt like my right leg was splitting in two again. With no doing of my own, my legs were lifted and my body naturally turned all the way on the bed, my head resting on a pillow.

"Carrie, you stay right here. I'm going to say goodbye to Gustaf then be right back. You okay?"

"No," I answered honestly. "Th'nk 'em for meee," I slurred.

"Will do."

Second obstacle in the bag, I thought to myself as I lay there. My head stopped spinning, the nausea was gone, but I had a wicked headache.

The bed suddenly sunk down on one side. "I'm back. How ya doin'?"

I turned toward him and forced my eyes open. "Asp'rin."

"Okay. You have a while to go before another painkiller, I'm afraid. And I've got the aspirin right here, bendy straw, even."

"What's a benty straw?" I asked as he grabbed the glass from the nightstand, scooped something up and brought them toward my mouth. When I saw the straw I smiled stupidly. "Oh, it bends. I thought it was Swedish for something."

He chuckled. "No. Here." He handing me the pills, which I put in my mouth. "Bend your head a little more so water doesn't spill. I don't want my comforter ruined." I didn't think twice about his comment.


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