Page 38 of Maybe
Alaric’s mouth quirked in amusement. Even Luke’s head tipped up, and my cheeks heated. “Some guy came on to me,” I explained. “A… a gorgeous guy.”
“Why?” Alaric probed.
Luke barked a laugh. “He’s not that bad a proposition.”
“I meant why did you turn him down?”
“I… I dunno, really,” I lied. “I think he wanted more, maybe?”
“And?”
“And…” I floundered. That kiss, the gentle intensity of it, of Ezra’s mouth on mine. His long, pale fingers, cool and refreshing as bathrooms tiles, caressing my face. Even now it sent a hot ache through my belly. My brother was a thirst trap, and my throat was parched. “And I do like him,” I continued, the world’s fattest understatement, “but I’m not in a place right now to make a go of things.”
Lies, lies, lies.
Alaric tutted. “Oh, sweetheart. Is anyone ever?” He threw me a pitying glance. “Some of us are simply more adept at hiding it.”
“No, but…” No denying I was a hot mess; it was the new norm for me. But… could I handle Ezra as a lover? What if we gave it a go and it didn’t work out?
“I’ll just fuck it up,” I answered.
“Why would you?”
“I don’t know. I just would. I’d fuck it up,” I repeated, which was a hell of a lot easier than admitting I was in love with my brother. “What with getting over my dad dying and having to retake the exam again in a couple of months. I haven’t got the time nor the headspace.”
Alaric’s shrewd eyes skated over mine, narrowing. He didn’t believe that bullshit for a minute. As for Luke, I wasn’t even sure he was still listening until he spoke.
“I think you should shag him anyway,” he informed us, conversationally. “This place will suck you dry until there will never be a good time. We’re fucking Lego pieces, you know? Sets of initials to fill a gap in a roster. They don’t give a shit there’s a person attached to those initials who might want something other than being treated like shit.”
Disguising it as a scratch, he tugged at the hair behind his ear. “I’m jacking it in, by the way. I’ll… I’ll do it properly next time, if I don’t.” He tossed the hair away. “Just Lego soldiers, boys. Remember that. We owe them nothing.”
“Luke,” Alaric began, throwing me an anxious look. “Have you thought about?—“
“I’ve listened to enough helpful advice, thanks, mate.” Luke’s fists scrunched into tight balls. He flashed Alaric a glare. “Don’t worry—I’m sane. I can do my nights, treat the patients properly. It might kill me, but I’m not going to kill anyone else.”
That was not terribly reassuring. “Surely if you asked occupational health to—“ Alaric tried again.
“I’ve handed in my notice, and then I’m going to sign up for some locums for a while, for cash. Then maybe I’ll go and work in Oz for a bit.” He took a deep breath. “Did you know, not a single senior colleague or manager contacted me when I was off sick to see if I was okay? And I’ve come back to a bunch of emails telling me they’re adding three months to my training because I missed a two-day compulsory course on breaking bad news.” He tossed out a shaky laugh. “Being an inpatient on a psych ward, juggling my own fucking bad news, isn’t a good enough excuse, apparently. And it’s ironic, is it not, how they broke that shitty news to me, like, really badly and by email?”
“Oh Christ,” Alaric breathed.
“Sorry, mate,” I mumbled inadequately.
“Yeah, well. Me too.” Luke ran a wobbly hand over his bare crown. “They don’t tell you about this shit at the school careers fair when you’re eighteen, do they?”
What could you say to that? The guy was one of the smartest doctors I knew, and yet the system was prepared to piss him away. What a fucking waste.
I stared dumbly into space whilst Alaric sucked even harder on his vape. In his softer, 'breaking bad news' voice, he managed to come up with the things I should have said while Luke tolerated hearing it and viciously plucked at a clump of hair behind his other ear.
When Alaric finally ran out of platitudes, I filled my lungs with stale strawberry air. “Sometimes I fantasise about giving up surgery.” I felt strange, like I might retch. Where the hell did that idea spring from?
“Yeah?” I could smell Alaric’s strawberry-imbued scepticism from across the room. Ezra’s words came flooding back. “I know everyone expects me to follow my dad, but my future isn’t a fucking football for anyone else to kick around, you know?”
“Yeah, but… Most people fail the exam at the first sitting. Just ‘cos you failed it once doesn’t mean you should ditch the lot and take up crochet.”
“I could take up ED, though,” I countered. “Or geriatrics. You said yourself I was good with people.”
Jack of all trades.Nothing to be ashamed of in that, as Ezra had explained. God, how the hell did thoughts of him manage to squeeze into everything?
