Page 27 of Paging Dr. Hart
“Pity is the last thing I associate with you. I admire you. Everyone does. You work hard and don’t care what people think about you.”
He says the last part as a compliment, but it makes me feel bad, ashamed. Like I lack the need for mutual respect that normal people crave. “Not everyone can be like you, Ethan,” I retort, hurt and angry from his comment. “You don’t have to worry what people think because everyone likes you, Mr. Popular. You were probably prom king in high school.”
There’s silence from him, which means I’ve hit the mark. “Ha! Knew it,” I cry out, victorious. “You really were prom king?”
He nods, eyes on the floor and pink on his cheeks. “Yeah. Senior year.” His gaze lifts, something anguished sparking within. “You’re wrong, though. I caretoomuch about what people think of me. That’s why I’m such a people pleaser. I’m trying to convince everyone to like me, so they won’t notice what a fuckup I am.”
Astonished, I whip my head up to meet his eyes. “You? A fuckup?”
Ethan drops his gaze to stare forlornly at his desk. “I’ve failed at a lot of things. Let people down. That’s why I want to do a good job here. To make up for it and prove I can follow through.”
“You didn’t fail at that stuff you were telling me about this morning, the Eagle Scout thing and martial arts.” Ethan’s mournful expression unhinges something in me. I want to soothe his ache. Fix whatever is wrong. Fight whoever made him feel like a failure. I haven’t felt this protective since Shelly. It’s stupid because this isEthanwe’re talking about. He doesn’t need my help.
My reminder does the trick. Like magic, his gloom lifts and he sits up straight. “I didn’t say I mess upeverythingI do. Just some things.” He gives me a shy glance. “Now you know and, typical of me, I’m worrying it makes you like me less.”
“Who said I liked you to begin with?” I make sure I say it in a teasing voice, not my usual sarcastic one. It’s a struggle to be nice, but I like that Ethan showed me his soft underbelly. I could use this moment to take advantage of his vulnerability and push him away. But somehow…I don’t want to.
21
My phone buzzes with an incoming text. That sound makes me wince, worrying that it’s another frightening message. It’s not, though. I haven’t had any since I blocked that number. I sigh with relief when I see the message is from Melanie.
Melanie: Hey. Fred is great. He let me rub his belly without biting me, so now I’m his BFF.
Tiffany: Wow. You’re a cat whisperer.
Melanie: How’s Cleveland? What’s the hospital like?
Tiffany: Smaller. Older. People are nice. Their computers were running on outdated software. No IT here, so I updated their system. It was easy, but they were super-impressed. Acted like I was a genius. Lol!
I pause my texting to smile at the memory. The entire radiology staff is still raving about how much quicker their computers are working. It was a big win for me. I’m hoping my success gets reported back to Dr. Washburn and helps my chances of becoming resident of the month.
Melanie: Good! Will U finish setting up the program in time? I know U were worried.
Tiffany: Not sure. It’s a lot, but we’re trying.
Melanie: How’s Ethan?
Tiffany: OMG. You will never believe this. We live together!!
Melanie: Shut up! What?
Tiffany: Yep. Have our own rooms but share everything else.
Melanie: Wow. How’s that?
Tiffany: Not as bad as I thought. So far…
22
Glass shattering. Bloody knuckles. Little bird. Let me go.
I wake from my nightmares with a scream buried in the back of my throat. Heart pounding, I sit up in bed and search the darkness but find nothing. The monsters aren’t here. They aren’t under this bed or in this closet. My monsters left me years ago, abandoned me. I miss them, even though I shouldn’t. Now, the only monster left is the one that lives under my own skin.
These thoughts are too dark. I push out of bed and check the clock. It’s past 2:00 a.m. Following the band of light that flows down the hallway, I go to the bathroom and splash water on my face. My neck cracks as I bend it from side to side, trying to ease my tension. It’s no use. I’m wired. Adrenaline surges through my body. No way I’m going back to sleep anytime soon.
Hoping fresh air will calm me, I head to the narrow balcony off our living room. The sliding glass door makes a loud grating sound as I open it. I squeeze through and step outside. Two cheap plastic chairs are crammed into the space. I choose one and sit, shivering, as the cold seat touches the bare skin of my legs. The evening breeze is chillier than I expected. I should have brought a blanket with me, but I’m too tired and lazy to go back inside and get one. Instead, I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
When the door shudders open behind me, I jump and let out a startled yelp.
