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“Hey,” she says as she gets near. Her cheeks are pink and she seems a little breathless. She squeezes my forearm. “How are you?”
I press my hand to hers and give it a little squeeze. There’s a reason she’s my best friend. She always knows exactly what I need. “I’m fine. He’s in there with the nurse. Flirting.”
“Sounds about right,” she says with a chuckle, slipping her hand out from beneath mine.
I squeeze my fingers together, feeling the loss of her soft skin. As if I need a reminder that nothing will ever happen between us, she can hardly tolerate me touching her for more than a few seconds. She peeks in the window and watches as Freddy literally bats his eyelashes at Violet.
“That poor woman,” Faye mumbles with a sweet chuckle. She tucks her hair behind her ear and taps her fingers against her thigh.
“You didn’t have to come,” I say, nudging her shoulder with mine. “I know how you love your weekends.” That’s putting it mildly.
I met Faye a little over a year ago when she was still in her first year of med school. In the time we’ve been friends, I’ve watched the way med school has changed her: the way her shoulders lighten every Friday evening; the way she laughs off questions about her future; the way she slips into an anxious shell of dread every Sunday night as she faces returning to the hospital in the morning.
And yet she’s here again, for me.
She shrugs. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
My stomach tightens and I rub my fist against the spot.
“You really okay?” She nods toward my stomach. “Have you eaten anything?”
Before I can answer, Freddy spots her.
“Faye Benington!” He waves us back in. Violet is wrapping up, wiping hand sanitizer on her hands and prepping her cart to roll out of here.
“Freddy Flux,” Faye says with a grin that brightens her whole face. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“Aw, you know. My heart beats a little faster when Violet’s the one listening.” He grins at her, popping those dimples that are usually a direct ticket to P-town.
“Uh-huh,” Violet says, wrapping the stethoscope around the back of her neck and unlocking the cart’s wheel. “I thought I heard it doing a strange three-beat rhythm… puh-theh-tick…pa-the-tic.”
Faye and I roar with laughter and Freddy flops his head back on the bed, his hands clutching his wounded heart. Violet clucks her tongue as she pushes her cart out of the room.
“I think I’m in love,” Freddy says.
“You’ve definitely met your match,” I say, nodding at the fifty-something woman who is definitely wearing a wedding band.
“I should’ve known you were on your way, Faye,” he says with a drug-addled grin.
“Why’s that? Is your morphine drip giving you second sight?” Faye asks with an amused tilt of her head.
“Zeke’s been staring at his phone like it’s a lifeline, and he doesn’t get that goofy grin when he’s texting me.”
I feel my ears turn red as his gaze flickers, lazily, to me.
“At least, I hope you don’t. Not that I have a problem with that. I know the power I wield.”
“Brah,” I say, in my worst Freddy imitation.
Faye giggles, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink.
“I never said you weren’t,” I say.
“They’ve got you on the good stuff,” Faye says, examining the contents of his IV bag.
“Top quality, prime sirloin. Just like Coop here.”
“That’s enough, Freddy,” I say, leveling him with my best cut-the-shit glare.
