"No, I can—ow!" Joey yelped, half in surprise and half in the quick pain of an impact with her head to Sam's. They didn't hit each other hard enough for it to be damaging in any way, but her hand still raised to her head in a mirror of Sam's own movement, by reflex.
Sighing softly, Joey finished bending and retrieved the needle. "Yeah, no, I'm okay. I swear to God, my luck this week so far is just...so ass. First, I end up in this stupid place, then I twisted my ankle, a million other clumsy moves the past couple of days, and now this, it's just...ugh, I feel like I'm cursed or something. It's so stupid..."
She stood up straight again and nodded toward the living room before rinsing the needle, poking it through the bar of soap, rinsing it again, and then limping in that direction with the thread in one hand and the needle in the other. "Definitely think we should be sitting down. I promise I'm not incompetent, though, with this," she said, holding up the hand with the needle in it as she hobbled up to the couch and dropped down.