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Nora’s eyes draw my attention. They’re dazed, and the look of utter desperation fills them.
She reminds me of the woman we saw the night of her suicide attempt, and I don’t think I can take that.
Cevon notices, and it’s like a darkness overtakes him, one that calls to hers. She snaps her head up, and takes him in, letting out a small sigh.
“Let’s go,” Orson says. “I’ll drive.”
Nora takes my hand, surprising both Orson and Cevon, but I don’t back away from it.
Something has unsettled her, and I don’t like what it is.
* * *
“My eyes are infected?” I demand, glaring at the doctor. He’s a new one, not the same one I dealt with last time, and he’s got an attitude problem to match the crocodile underneath his skin. He’s slim, with beady green eyes.
He’s my age as well, which makes this even more embarrassing. At least last time the dude was older than my dad, and had a right to lecture me.
He nods. “You’ve clearly not been administering the drops correctly.”
Orson snorts. “You open the bottle, do two drops per eye, and that’s it. How can you fuck it up?”
“I haven’t,” I protest. “You’re clearly chatting shit.”
The doctor rolls his eyes. “Believe me, Mr Abbott, I most definitely am not chatting shit. Do you wash your hands before using them?”
“Well…” No.
“Have you ever dropped the dropper?”
“Well…” Yes.
“Have you ever done them whilst out in the wild? Maybe dropped the dropper outside?”
“Um…” Yes.
“Because those are the main reasons I could think of for your eyes getting infected,” he says. “And based on your reaction, you’ve clearly done one of those things. Or all of them. I want to start you on a course of antibiotics and run a few more tests. I hope you’re not in a hurry?”
“No,” Orson says, the humour having faded from his body. He gives me a nod. “We’ll be here.”
The different tests take about an hour, and Orson doesn’t leave my side throughout. I never thought I was the kind of person who needed my hand held during an appointment, but it seems like I am.
“So, you’re lucky,” Dr Tanmizan says. “We’ve caught this pretty early, and I think some antibiotics will fix it up within a few days. You need to listen to me, though, Griffin. If you came in even a few days later, we’d be looking at you potentially going blind. This is not a joke, okay? Wash your hands, and don’t drop the bottle.”
I nod, a sigh of relief leaving me. “Will do.”
He nods. “We’re looking at ulcers and blindness as the biggest problems if you ignore me. They’re your eyes at the end of the day. Let’s hope your mate still loves you when you’re missing an eye because you didn’t listen.”
Orson snorts and thanks the doctor. We grab my script and then head off, me in a fowl mood.
Things only get worse when I see Nora’s mood has plummeted further.
The first doctor was an asshole who made her feel like an inconvenience who had no right to be concerned about her health.
The second doctor? Well, Orson seemed to like her, but if this is the kind of mood she’s put Nora in, I don’t think she’s very good at her job.
“How are you feeling, little cub?” Orson asks as he climbs into the driver’s seat. “Fancy going out for food, or do you want to go home?”
“Fuck, please say we can eat,” I plead. “I’m fucking starving.”
