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I squinted my eyes at him. “On what your house looks like.”
The spark in his smile lit up again. “Joke’s on you. I own a condo.”
“Well maybe I like condos.”
“You've never been inside a condo.”
“How would you know?”
“Because if you’d ever been inside one, you wouldn’t like them.”
I had my mouth open to say something, but from down the hallway came a call. “Dr. Green!”
A group of doctors approached us, their white coats swishing around their legs. At the center was Dr. Philip Roberts. I’d met him before. His white hair was combed forward, and his cheeks were kissed with age spots and freckles. He led the team of doctors down the hallway.
“Hello again, little one,” Dr. Roberts said. He tugged a small bag from his pocket, showing me a collection of red crème candy. “Would you like a piece?”
Dr. Green lit up. “I get one, right?”
Dr. Roberts chuckled. “You’ve eaten half of them already. I’ll have to go back and get more.” Even as he said this, he held the bag out to him. Dr. Green took three, and passed me one from his palm.
Dr. Green tossed the other two into his mouth. “You had to get the good kind. You don’t see these at the grocery store anymore.”
I popped the strawberry-flavored candy into my mouth, amused by watching them interact.
“If you aren’t too busy flirting,” Dr. Roberts addressed Dr. Green, but his eyes met mine with a happy glint, “there’s a new intake you might find interesting.”
“Would love to,” Dr. Green held out an elbow for me. “Shall we?”
“Are you sure you want to bring her?” Dr. Roberts asked.
“She’s my shadow today. She wouldn’t be a very good one unless she was right next to me.” Dr. Green grabbed my hand since I’d hesitated. He pushed it up until I was grasping his elbow. He nodded at the group of doctors. “Pardon us. We’ve got a patient to attend to.”
I wanted to ask where we were going, but Dr. Green was walking pretty quickly now, tugging me along. I was having trouble keeping up with him.
Down a few more corridors, and he stopped short in front of a doorway. He opened the door a crack, poking his head inside. “Hello,” he addressed to someone I couldn’t see because he was blocking the door.
He spoke quietly for a second, low enough that I couldn’t hear. A reply was returned and after that, he backed out of the way, gesturing to me. “Sorry, just wanted to check to make sure this was okay. Come on in.”
It was an examination room, with a table in the middle. The room was surrounded by counters stocked with medical supplies.
On the table was a boy, perhaps eighteen. He had a tuft of dark hair on his head, combed forward but part of it was sticking up and messy. His eyes followed me as I stepped in. I stood behind Dr. Green, quiet, unsure with a new face.
Dr. Green stepped aside. He found one of the chairs near the side of the room and sat down. He gestured to the guy on the table. “Sang, this is ...”
“Marc,” the guy on the table said. He held out a hand to me.
I dropped my hand into his quietly. He took it, shaking quickly and letting go. When nothing further was said, I blinked at Dr. Green.
Dr. Green waved at me. “Go ahead, smarty pants. Ask him what’s wrong.”
I glanced at Marc, who had a baffled look on his face, but seemed curious. “What ... um ... what’s wrong?”
“Our new teammate didn’t know how to operate a nail gun.” He turned on his side, revealing the outside of his thigh. Through his jeans, there was the head of a nail sticking out from just above his knee. “Pretty good aim if she meant it.”
“O...oh,” I said, taking a step back. I looked at Dr. Green for help. I silently pleaded with him. This guy is hurt. Do something. Give him medicine.
Dr. Green glanced back at me. He was sitting back, his legs stretched out as if he was comfortable. “Well?” he asked.
“What?”
“You should do something about that. It looks like it hurts.”
“Not anymore,” Marc said. He poked higher up on his thigh as if to show me he wasn’t in pain. “The other doc gave me a shot. Now I’m peachy. But I guess it should come out eventually. It’ll be a bitch later.”
“And he just left you with ... with a nail in your leg?” I asked.
“They said they had a new resident they wanted to give me to.” Marc said, looking at me. “That’s you, right?”
“Uh ...” I started shaking my head.
“It’s her first day,” Dr. Green butted in. “She’s nervous.”
“Kind of young, isn’t she?” Marc said. His eyes lit up as he glanced back at me. “But you never know what to expect from Academy girls.”
Academy girl?
“Hey, hey,” Dr. Green said. “I thought you told me you had a girlfriend.”
“I’m being nice. You said she was new.”
“Dr. Green ....” I didn’t know how they kept going. He needed medical attention.
“I told you to call me Sean.”
I blew out a sigh, perplexed. “Sean, the nail?”
“Go ahead,” Dr. Green. “Don’t let me get in the way.”
My eyes widened. “You want me to pull it out?”
“And if you’re feeling froggy, you can pack him up, too.”
“But I can’t ... you can’t ...”
“Don’t worry,” he said. He crossed his legs at the ankle and sat back more, crossing his arms behind his head to act as a cushion against the concrete wall behind him. “I’m right here. If you screw up, he’ll have a witness so he can get more money when he sues us.”
My mouth dropped open.
“I’m not going to sue you,” Marc said, the grin on his face a little loose. “I only sue the ugly ones.”
I was about to run out of the room and call Victor to come back and get me. I couldn’t believe they were at all serious. How could either of them expect me to pull a nail out of his leg? Only I thought if I left them there, they’d be back and forth all day and he’d never get the nail out. I couldn’t imagine other hospitals, or any of the other doctors operating like this.
“Are you sure I can’t hurt him?” I asked.
Marc wriggled his eyebrows at me. “If I say it still hurts, can I get another shot? This one is making me feel awesome. I think he added a little bonus in there.”
“You’re fine, Sang,” Dr. Green said. “Now pull the nail out. We’ve got other patients to see today.”
I couldn’t believe he was serious. I glanced back at Marc’s leg. The blood around his jeans had spread. It wasn’t bleeding freely now, but the wound wasn’t going to heal until someone pulled out the nail.
I couldn’t remember at that moment ever helping Marie with a wound before. The closest I’d ever been to one had been my own, but there was something about taking care of my own deep cuts that didn’t bother me so much. Standing and looking at someone else’s, knowing I had to help, that was something different. Despite the promises that he was feeling okay because of whatever shot they gave him, I couldn’t help but not want to touch him, in case something I did caused pain or made things worse.
I sucked in some courage, stepping closer. The nail was sticking out at an upright angle, so it was shallow. The nail bulged just under the skin.
I blanched. I glanced once more at Dr. Green, who nodded encouragingly. Despite his casual stance though, his eyes were very focused. This was more than teasing. He was testing me.
That, by itself, motivated me. He probably expected me to balk and run out of the room. Or faint. Both w
ere things I felt like doing, but I wasn’t about to let him find that out.
There was a selection of medical tools displayed on a table tray. I didn’t know what some of the instruments were for, but I spotted a pair of gloves.
My memory kicked in, something I’d read in a book once, or maybe watched in a television medical drama, and from a couple of times of being around my mother at the hospital. “Do you have a latex allergy?” I asked Marc.
“Never been allergic to anything in my life,” he said.
I caught a pleased look from Dr. Green. I reached for the gloves, putting them on, and then realized too late that they usually washed their hands before this part. I blushed and focused on Marc. Dr. Green didn’t say anything. Maybe that was only for surgery? Did this count as surgery?
I wished Dr. Green would stop fooling around. And then I caught another smirk on his face.
His eyes challenged. I remembered Mr. Blackbourne telling me not to let the boys tease me. I thought the only way to stop this crazy ordeal was to leap head first.
I glanced at the tools, and there was a pair of tweezers, but was that for the nail? It seemed like it’d hurt to try to wedge it out with it. I recalled a time I stepped on a tack once. Yanking it worked better than the agony of pulling slow.
I reached out, grasped Marc by the knee for leverage, and with a solid yank, pulled the nail from his leg.
He lurched forward, his hands moving to the wound to cup at it protectively. “Okay, I felt that. That hurt.”
I held the nail in my hand, the blood from his leg against the gloves. My heart thundered. What did I just do?
“Only a little,” Marc said. He grinned, but his teeth were bared like he was forcing it.
Blood started streaming from his leg, pooling on the table. I glanced at Dr. Green, who seemed stuck to his chair. Was that stun and shock in his face? He recovered, and the shock turned into a strange calmness as he stood up slowly. “We want to clean him up now,” he said, his tone soothing like I’d heard before.
I sucked in another breath of courage, gazed around the table for something to sop up the blood with, and snatched up a package of gauze from the tray.
“You probably want to remove his jeans first,” Dr. Green said.
I let out a sigh and stared blankly at Marc, begging him not to make me do that part, too.
