Page 57 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
Savanna pats his shoulder. “It just makes me enthusiastic. I’ve been watching you struggling and seeing you two together warms my heart. You were adamant you remembered your pre-fame life. We had no way of knowing how patchy your memory was until Josie arrived.”
I want to ask if his parents had filled in some of the pieces, but I decide not to bring them up.
“Hi all,” Dr. Fincher says, striding into the room. “Ah, would you like to conduct the tests over here?”
“Is that okay?” Wyatt asks.
Dr. Fincher wheels over the moveable tray table and sets it in front of Wyatt. “Sure thing. Wherever you’re most comfortable.”
I push off the armchair, asking, “Should I leave?”
“No,” Wyatt blurts.
I sit down and Savanna mumbles a laugh.
“I would’ve said, you can stay if it’s okay with Wyatt,” Dr. Fincher says, sitting on the adjacent couch, “but clearly we have his answer.”
Wyatt smiles, attempting to hide the pink hue on his cheeks. “It’s painful when she leaves.”
I blush. “Okay, I’m staying put.”
“Wyatt, I’m going to give you three words and you’ll have to recall them at the end of this session,” Dr. Fincher says.
Wyatt flinches. “How long is that?”
“Ten minutes tops.”
Wyatt gives a doubtful look. “That’s a long time.”
“All you have to do is try,” Dr. Fincher replies. “Now, remember these three words. Apple, table, penny.”
“Apple, table, penny?” Wyatt says, lifting his brow like he’s been asked a hard math question.
Apple, table, penny. Apple, table, penny.
Dr. Fincher hands Wyatt his glasses. I smile when Wyatt makes a face before putting them on. The doctor then places a sheet of paper on the table, along with a pencil. “Can you write your full name across the paper?”
Wyatt pinches the pencil between his thumb and index finger, but it drops back down on the table. He then uses both hands to help pick it up.
“Look at you,” Savanna gushes. “You’re problem solving,”
Wyatt leans over the paper, concentrating hard as he slowly scrawls his name. He pauses midway through, looking up at me with framed eyes. “I don’t have a middle name, do I?”
I smirk. “Nope. You’re good.”
He shakes his head, returning his attention to the paper. “Didn’t think I did.”
“It’s normal to doubt yourself over facts you know to be true,” Dr. Fincher comments.
“I do it all the time,” Savanna jokes.
Wyatt puts the pencil down. “Done.”
I giggle, looking at the wonky lettering. “Wow, it’s your autograph.”
He slides the paper across the table toward me. “It’s all yours.”
I grasp the paper and check with Dr. Fincher. “Do you need it?”
