Page 36 of Love Sick

“I just did!” My mom sends a flustered look off-screen, snowman earrings bobbing, then returns to me. “Your father is doing a cleansing ritual. No technology. You understand.”

Spinning in my rolling chair in the call room, I press my lips together to keep from laughing. Didn’t know technology was so toxic to the system.

My parents arealwaysdoing some ritual or fast. They’re staunch believers in essential oils, positive vibes and healing crystals. Each wear a sapphire because they believe it protects against negative energies and calms the mind.

They named me Sapphire for the same reason. Shortsighted on their part, unfortunately. When I grew breasts, the world’s view of me evolved from a quirky little girl to a porn star. But if naming me after a gemstone is the worst thing they ever do to me, I’ll count myself lucky. My parents are amazing.

“How are all the vaginas, baby girl?” Mom asks.

I laugh. “They’re doing fine, Mama.”

“That’s good. I always say, whenshe’snot happy, I’m not happy.”

“And neither am I!” yells my dad.

My mouth drops open. “Oh my god. Gross!”

“Honey, you’re a sex doctor. You need to get over the prudishness.”

“Not with my parents, I don’t!”

A text comes through from my senior this month. “Hang on, Mom.”

Asher:Lunch?

Me:Sure. Meet you down there?

Asher:Sure thing, baby cakes.

I snort. Asher’s a pretty good teacher. He isn’t as much of a douche as I originally thought. His blatant flirting is a pervasive theme in any conversation. I’m not even sure he knows he’s doing it. It’s wired into his genetic code, or something. And he’s not picky, either. He flirts with every female in his vicinity—­including some patients—and somehow knows when it’s welcome and when it’s not, thereby skirting around a sexual harassment accusation.

I havealmostforgiven him for his crude comments the day I met him.

“Hey, Mom, I have to go.”

“All right, honey. Call me later.”

My month with Asher has been more productive than my last month on L&D. He’s charmed our bosses into letting me primary most surgeries now. When I’m allowed to do my job, that lifelong dream feels a bit more attainable—the one of the girl in the white coat who’s commanded the respect of her peers. The competent woman, sure of herself and her place in the world. Surely, that will be me someday, right?

Doubts creep in that perhaps the title of “Doctor” doesn’t come with a preloaded certificate of accomplishment. Maybe confidence isn’t something that can be awarded to me with enough time and effort. Perhaps it comes from within.

I shake myself.

Regardless, Asher’s insistence and pull with the attendings has been invaluable, but I still get bumped due to silly excuses.

It has to be the rumor. Or,rumors. The first one was bad enough, but it spawned a whole host of vague gossip that paints me as a harlot who uses sexual favors to get out of the hard parts of training. Apparently, our call room is my own personal red-light district.

It’s crazy how information mutates in the hospital. Last week, I overheard a nurse being reprimanded for giving the wrong dose of medication to a patient. At the end of the day, everyone was whispering that she’d done it on purpose because she was selling the extra fentanyl on the sly. By next week, the gossip mill will put her in jail and the patient in the morgue.

Thanks to that single rumor in June, I started with a reputation in tatters, and due to idle speculation, it’s only shredded further from there. Crawling out of this hole is impossible. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m 92 percent positive it’s negatively affecting my training, I’m not sure I’d even want to try to crawl out anymore.

In the resident lounge, Asher and I find a round table in the corner. He pimps me over hemorrhage protocols while chugging a protein shake and I pick at the unfortunate lunch offering—­mystery meat. Yum.

After five minutes, he huffs a laugh. “Jesus. You know this shit better than I do.”

I lace my fingers on the table. “I study a lot.”

A grin warms his face. “I see that. You should get out more.”

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