Chapter Text
Phillip eyes Fran Larsen in the stands and wonders what homework she’s working on today.
His favorite part of baseball practice is when his coach lectures the team during a water break because it gives him more time than usual to zone out and ogle the quiet brunette who accompanies her extroverted sister to their practices.
"Altman!" Coach Morris snaps, startling him out of his daydream. “Twenty pushups for getting distracted!"
Phillip feels heat creep up his neck and ears as he gets on the ground; this isn't the first time he’s been caught staring at Fran.
And knowing him, it probably won’t be the last.
During the practice game, something unfortunate happens. Phillip watches from the dugout as Boner steps up to the plate to bat and hits the ball with the tip of his bat, sending it into the stands — directly at Fran, who's too focused on her homework to hear their shouts of warning.
The ball makes a heavy thud as it collides with Fran’s head — she cries out as she falls off the bleachers.
"Fran!" Phillip shouts as he watches Fran collapse. He's sprinting to her before he even realizes it.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," Phillip curses when he sees her prone body on the ground.
He lets out a deep sigh of relief when he hears her groaning and realizes she’s still conscious, her eyes squeezed shut in pain.
“Don’t move,” he tells Fran as she tries to turn her head.
Phillip drops to the dirt and carefully slides himself behind her. Gingerly cradling her head, he helps her slowly roll onto her back. He softly brushes her hair from where the ball made contact with her head, a large bump already forming.
People start gathering around them, including Coach Morris who pushes his way to the front.
"Here," Coach says as he shoves an ice pack at him.
Phillip carefully applies it to Fran's head, inwardly wincing when she flinches.
His coach disperses the crowd and tells the team to resume practice with the assistant coach. Boner and Abby stay behind, rambling over one another.
Phillip keeps a firm grip around Fran's shoulders as she sits up.
Coach Morris kneels in front of Fran and asks her a series of questions, checking her for a concussion.
"I'm so sorry, Fran," Boner apologizes, babbling. "I didn't do that on purpose, I swear. Are you okay? Can I get you anything?" He takes a step forward only to back up again when Phillip glares daggers at him.
"It's fine, I'll be okay," Fran mumbles as Coach tests her eye movements.
Fran's sister, Abby, wrings her fingers. "Oh no," she whines, "does she have a concussion? How am I supposed to get home if she can't drive?”
Annoyed, Phillip glares at Abby and bites out, "That's not really a concern right now. Go away if you're not gonna be helpful.”
Abby stomps away in a huff.
As Phillip listens to Fran talk about her symptoms, he can’t help but imagine wrestling Boner to the ground and wringing his neck for harming Fran.
"Well if you have a concussion, it seems to be a mild one," Coach tells Fran. “You should call your parents so they can take you to the ER to rule out anything major.”
When Fran's step-mom finally picks up the phone on the third attempt, she makes it clear that neither she nor her husband will be leaving work for Fran's ‘little injury.’
"She's just being over-dramatic," Mrs. Larsen scoffs over the speakerphone. "You said she’s awake, right?"
"Yes, but—"
"Then she's capable of leaving on her own. She'll be fine," Mrs. Larsen says, cutting him off.
Phillip tightens his hold around Fran, clenching his jaw at her mom's dismissive tone.
"At least let her go to the ER and get checked out. Otherwise I don't feel comfortable releasing her," Coach protests.
"Fine, she can go to the hospital," Mrs. Larsen relents, hanging up before anyone else can speak again.
Phillip is seething now. Fran's step-mom ended the call without even speaking with Fran or asking if she was okay. He can’t control his scowl when he turns to face Fran, who cringes at his expression and tries to scoot away from him.
"You can let go now, I'm fine," she says quietly, meeting his eyes for a brief second.
Phillip mutely shakes his head at her.
Coach asks Fran if she has anyone she can call for a ride to the hospital. When she replies in the negative, Phillip jumps at the chance.
"I can take her there," he volunteers.
"Fine, practice is almost over anyways," Coach says, making Phillip inwardly fist pump. "See you tomorrow, Altman." Coach dismisses them, walking back to the team.
Phillip stands, walks up to Boner and pops him in the balls. "Way to go, Boner. You could've killed her,” he scolds.
Phillip goes back to Fran and bends down to help Fran stand up slowly, one arm around her back while the other holds her steady. They walk to the parking lot where Fran reluctantly hands over the keys to her sedan.
He gently lowers her into the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt for her before getting in the driver's side. It takes him a few minutes to adjust the seat and mirrors, his legs comically squished and his back hunched over despite moving his seat back as far as possible.
Phillip speeds the entire way to the hospital, still mad at everything: Fran getting hit, her sister being a self-centered bitch, her parents not caring about her. The only reason he’s not losing it right now is because he gets to take Fran to the hospital himself and can make sure she receives the care she needs.
⚾️ ⚾️ ⚾️
After arriving at the hospital, Phillip runs around to Fran’s side to help her walk despite her insistence that she can move on her own.
“Just humor me,” he says. “That was a pretty bad hit and you fell off the stands.”
She says nothing but she purses her lips as if to keep herself from arguing.
To pass the time and keep the two distracted, Phillip tries to get to know her better as they wait for Fran’s name to be called. Unfortunately, his attempts to make small talk with her keep getting shut down with one-word answers. He’s not deterred, though, and changes tactics.
He twists his body fully towards her and holds up three fingers.
"My dad does this whenever one of us hits our head," he tells her. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
Fran squints her eyes and focuses on his hand for a moment. “Three.”
Just as the word leaves her lips, Phillip lifts another finger into the air. “Wrong, it was four,” he replies, which makes her protest at his trick.
“Wow Larsen, you really are concussed,” he responds in exaggerated concern.
Fran remains silent, pointedly not laughing at his joke.
“...Too soon?” Phillip asks her, only to be met with silence.
He starts bouncing his leg, uncomfortable with the quiet that falls between them despite the crowded emergency room. Before he can make up for the bad joke, an intake nurse calls for Fran and leads her away.
When Fran returns a while later, Phillip blurts out, “My brother Paul just got engaged to our other brother’s ex-girlfriend.”
Fran gives him a wide-eyed look as she sits down.
“How did your other brother take the news?” she asks.
“Judd was surprisingly ok with it,” he answers, happy she’s engaging with him. “But that’s probably because he’s been super obsessed with another girl recently.”
There’s no follow-up question from her like he thought there would be, like most people would have responded, and it brings another lull into the conversation.
He normally wouldn’t be so persistent in talking with someone who’s clearly uninterested, but he can’t help but crave Fran’s attention. There has to be something to get her to open up and keep talking to him.
Phillip tries again. “Why do you keep giving your sister rides everywhere? Isn’t she older than you?”
“Step-sister,” Fran corrects. “And her license got suspended for reckless driving. Remember how the school had to redo part of the fence by the cafeteria last year?”
”No way! Was that why we had the assembly on teen driving that week?!”
”Yeah, that was her.” Fran sighs. “So now I have to drive her everywhere.”
”Even if she’s staying after school to flirt with boys?”
“Yup.”
“What would happen if you just… ‘forget’ to give her a ride home?”
“I tried that once. They just took away my keys and wouldn’t let me volunteer that week.”
Phillip perks up at this new tidbit. “Oh? Where do you volunteer?”
”The library on 85th Street,” Fran says, her aloof demeanor brightening as her voice becomes more animated. “It’s not the nearest one to our house but it has the comfiest chairs. And it has more books.”
Phillip listens intently as she goes on to share more about her volunteer work, excited to finally find a subject Fran seems eager to talk about. For once, Phillip finds it easy to listen. There’s something about Fran that demands his full attention.
As the wait stretches on, they decide to play two truths and a lie.
Fran looks stunned when Phillip confidently states that yogurt isn’t her favorite food as she'd claimed in her lie.
"How did you know my favorite food is cottage cheese?!" she asks incredulously.
"You bring it every day for lunch," he replies with a smirk, proud of himself for surprising her.
"But I sit at the opposite end of the cafeteria.”
He gives her a long look then says softly, "You're not as invisible as you think you are, Fran."
Fran simply stares at him with a frown, unable to say more before a nurse ushers them to an exam room.
The doctor diagnoses Fran with a mild concussion, but she orders a CT scan to make sure there aren’t any other injuries.
Phillip’s mom texts him around dinner time while he’s waiting for Fran in the radiology department lobby. When he tells his mom he’s at the ER with a friend, she immediately offers to cook for Fran and give her a ride home from the hospital.
He hesitates before deciding to reject his mom’s help. He feels selfish, but he wants more alone time with Fran and to savor the feeling of finally being helpful for once.
Phillip starts to get anxious when Fran doesn’t return in twenty minutes as expected and starts pacing the length of the lobby.
People give him funny looks but he ignores them, too antsy to care.
Fran returns while he’s on his third lap and he’s struck by how fragile she looks with her bandaged head and ice pack, the bump having expanded since this afternoon.
They wait for the CT scan results together as today’s events finally seem to catch up to Fran, whose eyes can barely stay open.
Phillip grabs a magazine nearby, hoping that reading random animal facts to her will help her stay awake. When he turns to a page with sudoku puzzles, he scoffs as he shows it to her. “Why do they even put these in here? They’re impossible to solve.”
Fran motions for him to move the magazine closer to her then squints.
“That one’s a 9,” she says, pointing to a blank square in the upper right corner. “And that,” she points to the adjacent space, “should be a 3.”
“No way. You’re lying. You can’t possibly know that.” Phillip says as he looks at her wide-eyed in wonder.
“I actually really like sudoku.” She blushes, staring at the floor. “I like to do them before bed.”
“Can you show me how it works?” Phillip begs.
Fran eyes him skeptically before agreeing with a shy smile.
Phillip feels his affection for her deepen when she explains the rules of sudoku to him and even helps him solve a block without making him feel like an idiot.
It takes him many tries, but he eventually manages to fill out a block without any help.
After checking his answers, Fran looks up at him with a wide, toothy smile. “Phillip, that’s right!” she exclaims.
For a moment, Phillip is awestruck as Fran’s face smile lights up her face, her eyes wrinkly at the corners and her nose crinkling. She looks relaxed for the first time since he met her last fall.
He mirrors her, preening at her praise.
The receptionist calls Fran’s name, snapping Phillip out of his trance.
Despite his annoyance at their conversation being cut short, Phillip feels too overjoyed at his progress to let it get to him.
⚾️ ⚾️ ⚾️
It’s fully dark outside by the time Fran is finally discharged. She tries to check her phone as they walk out of the hospital but Phillip snatches it out of her hands.
“Hey! Give it back!” Fran demands as he holds her phone high above his head, making her lean on him in an effort to get it back.
“Nuh-uh,” he tuts. “You know you’re not supposed to have screen time for the next week!”
“Fine,” she groans. “Can you read my messages for me then?”
He starts snickering as he reads through her phone. “You have six texts from Abby asking you where you are and telling you to pick her up. And she sounds pissed,” he adds gleefully, noting the exclamation points and all caps that increase with each text.
Phillip takes a detour on the drive to Fran’s house and pulls up to the local diner instead, which earns him a questioning glance from Fran
"I don't know about you but I'm starving," he explains.
“But I don’t have any cash on me,” she protests.
Phillip triumphantly shows her a 20-dollar bill. “I snagged it from Boner’s wallet on the way out. Consider it his treat.”
Fran giggles, making Phillip grin impishly. He comes around to help her get out and the two walk together into the diner.
The dark green walls of the diner are decorated with sports and music memorabilia as well as photos of the town. The familiar sight of red vinyl seats and beige laminate tables is comforting to Phillip, who comes here often with his friends for late-night munchies. The host takes them to a small booth with comfy seats that overlook the parking lot.
After the waiter leaves the table with their orders, Phillip watches Fran as her eyes keep wandering to a table nearby.
He leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “Whatcha lookin’ at?”
Fran startles as if she forgot he was with her.
She bites her lip before she tells him, “I like to play this game when I’m people-watching where I make up little stories about what other people are doing. There’s a goth teen to your right and he looks really excited talking about something to the old man in front of him.”
Phillip nods, “What do you think he’s talking about?”
Fran narrows her eyes, thinking. “I think the old man is his grandpa and he’s explaining the differences between goths and emos. And his grandpa’s trying really hard to pay attention but all he can think about are circus clowns because they all look the same to him.”
Phillip covers his mouth to stifle a snicker. “Ok, I’ll try. There’s a lady behind you who’s chatting with two women about her age. I think,” he pauses, “they’re fighting over who gets first dibs if they ever meet George Clooney.”
”Oh? Who’s winning?”
”The lady in the green shirt, because she can play guitar, drums, and harmonica at the same time, like a one-woman band,” Phillip says decisively as a smile tugs at Fran’s lips.
She taps a finger to her lips, pretending to think. “Hmm, I thought she was winning because she can paint the best Mona Lisa with only her toes.”
”How do you think they decided that?”
”Oh they had their neighbors all come by and vote on it, of course,” Fran says in a deadpan voice.
They continue to play the game throughout the meal. Phillip scarfs down his burgers and fries, then orders a plate of mozzarella sticks and a slice of peach pie à la mode.
Across from him, Fran slowly munches on her grilled cheese and tomato soup.
As they wait for the pie, Phillip pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He unfolds it delicately and smooths it out in front of him, a big contrast to his typically ungainly movements.
Fran lets out a scandalized gasp when she recognizes the jagged, shiny paper containing a partially filled grid.
“Did you steal this from the hospital?!” she whispers urgently, looking around for eavesdroppers.
“Yeah,” Phillip answers eagerly, “I wanted to finish the puzzle now that I finally get it. Can you check my answers again after I finish this block?” He asks, grabbing someone’s forgotten pen from a table nearby.
Fran puts a palm to her forehead as she lets out a resigned sigh. “Sure.”
Phillip drives Fran home in companionable silence. As he helps her into her house, he’s unsettled by how dark and quiet it is in contrast to his own.
When he points this out, Fran merely shrugs.
“That’s just how it is at our house. My dad and step-mom are workaholics and they don’t usually get home until 10 or 11. So it’s just Abby and me most of the time,” she says.
”But you got hurt today,” he protests, as if it’s incomprehensible to have such apathetic parents.
“This isn’t the worst injury I’ve had to take care of by myself.”
Phillip stares at her with an odd look, speechless for once.
“So,” she deflects as if she didn’t just give him a glimpse into how bleak her life is, “how are you going to get home? Do you need to call someone?”
“I’m just gonna walk, I think. It’ll be nice to stretch my legs after driving in your tiny car,” he jokes, trying to brighten her mood.
”It’s not tiny,” she grumbles. “You’re just huge!”
”Uh-huh, sure,” he agrees sarcastically as he walks to her front door. He spins around to her at the threshold before adding quietly, “I’m really glad you’re ok, Fran. Good night.”
Phillip is quiet when he arrives home some time later, still thinking about Fran.
Here's a pic of Baseball Player Phillip! Edit by @kyloremuss
