I was jogging when I caught my foot on a welt in the asphalt. I tried to catch myself but fell face first onto the ground, scraping my chin and my hands. I didn't have any money to call the house from a pay phone and get a hold of Jamie, so I walked fourteen blocks back to the house.

“What are you doing?” Jamie exclaimed when he saw me walk through the door, my face and hands bloodied. “You really shouldn’t be jogging.”

“What am I supposed to do? Eat ice cream all day and get fat? I want to be healthy!”

“You’re supposed to be careful,” he told me, taking me by the hand to the bathroom. “Here, sit.”

Jamie gently cleaned up my scrapes with hydrogen peroxide, but left the scrape on my chin open to dry out.

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