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She tucks her chin, giving me a questioning look. “And why do you think that?”
“You said so yourself. You’ve been feeling stuck,” I tell her. “I get it. I’ve been feeling that way myself.”
“Um, you work three jobs,” she says on a laugh.
“True,” I agree. “But that’s all I do.”
“Really? Don’t you ...” She stops herself, looking to the side as if she’s trying to come up with the right words. “Have, like, a ... social life?”
Ah. So, she’s heard. I’m not surprised. Her brother used to be my closest friend, after all. And word gets around in a smaller town.
Unfortunately, superficial relationships were a thing I did for a long time. So long that I’m surprised I haven’t run into someone at the hospital that I hooked up with, even though most of my flings were tourists. It was easier that way—there was little chance of running into them again. Little chance of someone trying to start something up. Still, I haven’t met everyone who works here at the hospital since I mostly stay in the ER, so it’s a possibility there’s someone. Old me was not a great guy in many ways. But that’s why I’m in therapy. That’s why I’m trying to change.
I shake my head. “Not so much anymore,” I say, honestly. “Work is pretty much my life.”
This is the truth. Going to work is basically all I do now.
This whole challenge thing intrigues me. It also sounds like something I wouldn’t mind doing. Maybe I could make one for myself. Or maybe ...
I watch her as she fidgets with the corner of her scrub top, her thumb running over the stitching.
“Should I do it too?” I ask her.
Lucy looks at me, her expression confused. “Do what?”
“The challenge thing,” I say.
“Sure,” she says. “Why not.”
“I’m being serious,” I say, recognizing by her tone and facial expression that she doesn’t think I’m being earnest here. “We could do it together.”
Lucy looks taken aback by that. “Together?”
“Why not? Your friend already has the list. I could make one of my own, or—” I pause, a thought coming to me. “We could make it more interesting. Like a competition.”
“How would we do that?”
“Whoever does it best,” I say.
“So, like, we keep points or something?”
“Yeah, and the winner gets ...” I stop to think about it.
“The winner gets to pick scrubs for the loser, and they have to wear them for a full week.” She smiles deviously.
There’s a fire in Lucy’s eyes now, something I’ve never seen from her before, almost like the thought of making this into a competition has just ramped up her desire to do it.
I hold out my hand to shake hers. “You’re on.”
Lucy
Wednesday, January 3, 10:23 a.m.
From GothamGuardian5 to PlainJane2:
Question: Would you rather swim at night knowing a shark could be nearby or spend the night in a house you were told was haunted?
I hope your day is better than yesterday. Maybe stay away from stairs?
