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"It's on the inside," he said.
I turned his arm over, looking at the inside of his forearm.
"No, no, it's on the inside of my body—like a bruise or whatever."
He spoke in his own voice, breaking character again. I wanted to call him out, but I thought he might actually have a bruise and I might get by with bandaging him up and letting him get on his way.
I leaned over and took a roll of gauze and some medical tape out of the portable cabinet. Quickly and without making conversation with him, I began wrapping a random place on his forearm.
"When did you become a nurse?" he asked as I worked.
"Uh, a year ago," I said, staring down at his arm.
"Are you a real nurse?" he asked.
"I don't work at a hospital, if that's what you mean, but I am a Registered Nurse. I'm the school nurse, here at Grover Cleveland."
"Aren't you a little young to be a nurse? How long does it take to go to nursing school?"
"I am a little young, but I lived on campus when I transferred to college, so I took a lot of hours. I finished quickly. And speaking of finishing quickly…" I added. I smiled as I placed a piece of tape across the end of the gauze to secure it. "There you go. I hope your arm feels better and you enjoy your day, sir."
I was clearly done and telling him goodbye, but he didn't move. I called his bluff. I moved to put away the supplies without saying another word.
"Grace," he said. "You're never going to believe me when I say this, but I'm actually—"
"Alec Abramson," I said dryly, cutting him off.
He jerked, tilting his head at me. "What? How did you know?"
I let out a little laugh. "I saw you a little while ago, with your parents."
"You knew it was me this whole time I've been in here?"
"Yes," I said, still smiling as I put away the tape.
"How? Nobody knows who I am in this thing. It cost three thousand dollars. I had to go to a movie studio to get it made."
I wasn't going to tell him that I knew it was him from across the yard, or that I could tell just by the way he walked.
"It's coming off a little bit," I said instead, talking about his mask. I pointed to my own chin, and he reached up and touched the mask near the spot I indicated.
"Let me see. I barely used any glue. My mom said it was good enough." He leaned toward me, looking all around like he was searching for something.
"What?" I said.
"A mirror. Do you have a mirror in that little station of yours?"
"I don't think I do," I said. It was a lie, and I cringed inwardly. "But it's not bad enough to look at. It's a nice mask. I only noticed it because I saw your parents and put two-and-two together. It's cool to see you, though, Alec. I didn't expect to see you guys up here." I made the statement in a tone of finality.
"It's crazy to see you with both of us so much older," he said.
"Yeah, yeah, we're both older, but it's nice seeing you, either way." I smiled at him—a cordial, unaffected smile. I gestured as if to usher him out of the tent.
"So, what are you up to, Grace?" Alec asked, sitting back comfortably in his chair.
"I'm working, and I teach a first-aid class. And I still run some." I smiled at him. "I'd ask what you're doing, but I know you're a big superstar now. Congratulations on everything."
"Do you listen to my music?" he asked.
