Page 10 of Fractured Heart

“How did this happen?” she asks, staring down at the reddish marks left by Father’s sneakered foot.

“I fell,” I answer quickly, but Dr. MacAulay doesn’t seem convinced. “I-I slipped down a hill. I must have landed on a rock.”

“I see.” She lifts the sweaters higher and examines my back. “How about these other bruises?”

“Oh, um, I…it was just an accident.”

Dr. MacAulay purses her lips and nods. “Have you been staying on campus with Tate Green?”

“No.” I shake my head, though I wish I was. I wish I had somewhere to stay. “I just met him. He found me in the forest…after I fell.”

“Are you staying with someone else on campus, then?”

“No. I live in town.” Or I used to.

“And is everything alright at home, Miss Hill?”

I hesitate. Father’s probably passed out drunk, which in his book qualifies as alright…just not for me. I nod anyway.

Dr. MacAulay asks a few more questions and announces that everything looks good. I silently beg to disagree. I may not have a concussion, but I also don’t have a home. I’m all alone, and for all I know, Tate left and I’ll never see him again.

“You should feel better in a couple of days,” Dr. MacAulay says as I slide off the examination table with a grimace. “You can take some over-the-counter painkillers for now.”

I nod. I can’t afford to spend the last of my money on medicine but that’s my problem, not hers.

My sneakers make squishy sounds as I head for the door and I grimace as I step out of the examination room. Then I forget all my problems and my heart soars. Tate is still there, right where he said he would be. His posture is relaxed as he leans against the wall, and he gives me a warm smile when he sees me. He waited for me! He actually waited!

“Oh, before you go,” Dr. MacAulay calls out after me, and I freeze. “Mr. Green, can I see you for a moment?”

“Sure.” Tate looks a little confused, but nods and follows her in. She closes the door behind him, and this time, our roles are reversed. I wait out in the hall and worry about why Dr. MacAulay might want to see him. I hope Tate doesn’t get in trouble for bringing a non-student to the campus health center. I picture her lecturing him about it and warning him not to do it again.

Going by the grim expression on his face when he finally steps out into the hall, I’d guess I was right. Except that the moment Tate spots me, his face breaks into a smile. “Thanks, Dr. MacAulay,” he says over his shoulder.

“You’re very welcome.” The doctor smiles. “Feel better, Miss Hill.”

I thank her, too, and Tate leads me away from her office and into the waiting room. As happy as I am to be with him, I’m too uncomfortable to really enjoy it. My sneakers keep squeaking and my wet socks make me shiver. Pain reverberates through my ribs, and Tate catches my grimace.

“Do you want me to carry you?” he asks, his fingers grazing my lower back softly as he prepares to pick me up.

“N-no, I’m fine.” I blush, my heart racing at the brief contact. “I can walk.”

“Are you sure?” For a split second, I think Tate looks disappointed, but that’s just wishful thinking. When I nod, he opens the sealed bag Faye gave him. He pushes aside the box of bandages and takes out a small box of pills. “I got these from Dr. MacAulay. For the pain.”

“Thanks, Tate.” I smile in relief. I may not be able to afford painkillers, but this should get me through the worst of it. “How did you get those? Dr. MacAulay just told me to go buy the over-the-counter stuff.”

“I asked,” Tate says simply. If I’d known it was that simple, I would have asked, too. “Pharmacy’s closed ‘till morning,” he adds, “and these are a bit stronger.”

A lump forms in my throat. Just the fact that Tate thought about those things—that he realized I needed painkillers before morning and thought to ask—warms my heart. He really is a true prince.

He hands me the container and I peer at the four pills inside. The label says to take two, and I shake out half the contents onto my palm.

“Let me get you some water.” Tate rushes toward the water cooler by the wall. I can’t tear my eyes away from his lean, muscular frame.

The short sleeves of his blue shirt stretch against his biceps when he grabs a paper cup and again as he fills it. When he returns, I take the cup gratefully and down the pills in one gulp. Tate throws away my empty cup for me but when he returns, he doesn’t look happy. “I know we just met, but you know you can trust me, right?”

I swallow nervously but still nod. I mean it, too. Tate’s been nothing but kind and caring since the moment we met.

“Then please tell me…is everything okay?”