Page 40 of Rock Me

"I am young and yet wise. Wisdom comes with a built-in bullshit detector, so I know of what I say when I ask you, 'what the hell do you want?’"

I clutch my chest and drop my jaw. "I'm shocked that you would think of me in such a way."

"You're a celebrity." It’s a statement, not a question.

"Kinda." I shrug, not sure I want to commit in case I’m about to get in trouble.

"You're used to getting what you want." Another statement. Again, true.

"Also kinda."

"So, it's almost like my bullshit detector goes into overdrive around you."

"So rude, wait until I set my minions onto you!”

He stares at me with a steely look in his eye, "Go ahead. I'm pretty quick with a needle."

"Oh. Well, my minions are scared of needles. They're scared of a lot of things. Mostly they just talk a big game."

"Like master, like minion." He’s grinning now, knowing he’s just won that round.

"Hey!"

"I apologize, please, Sir master of minions, what can I, the lowly nurse who once had to give you a lollypop after you complained about a butt injection do for His Highness?"

"That's better. Um, I need another favor."

"I live to favor you, Minion-whisperer.” He bows low and I bite my lip not wanting to give him the satisfaction of my obvious amusement.

"Okay, knock it off, you're creeping me out. I need you to write me another note."

There’s a micro expression of interest, but he hides it well. "Write your own damn note."

"I... I can't. I tried."

"Let me see."

I point to the trash can, filled with scrunched up pieces of paper. He takes one out, looking it over.

"Hmmm, looks like something my kid brought home from kindergarten."

I grimace and he just grins and gives me a wink.

"Hey, man, yesterday, you couldn’t even hold the damn pen. Now I can almost make out the letter H. I’m proud of you."

"That's an N." I sigh, but secretly, I’m thrilled that he noticed I’m trying.

"Exactly. You got something on the page. You're doing good." A warmth spreads through his eyes and I let myself enjoy it for one second.

"Go back to being a smartass."

"I will, once I write this note.” He pulls a pen out of his pockets and tears off a blank piece of paper from the notepad by the bed. “What do you want me to say?"

"Write, ‘Ne Me Quitte Pas.’"

"We already went through this yesterday, man. English or you’re on your own."

"Fine, write ‘If You Go Away.’ But then I want you to write the other thing as well, I'll spell it out for you."