Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 62430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“Well, I’m not going to call him,” I said.
“Are you going to erase the number?”
“Yes.” I accepted the challenge.
“And delete the address from your GPS?”
I opened my mouth to agree but couldn’t help playing devil’s advocate. “I already know how to get there without the GPS. But seriously, I plan to keep busy. I’ll have my hands full at work, and I’ll need to clean my room. That’ll occupy me for a couple days. After that, I can pick up some extra shifts to minimize my downtime and start looking for an actual apartment.”
Gina nodded. “That’s good. We’re going to give you some numbers you can call. Even in the middle of the night.”
I knew exactly one number I wanted her to give me, but I knew it was inappropriate to ask for it. I searched for pockets to thrust my hands into, but the scrubs had none. Instead, I threaded my fingers together behind my back.
She continued the tour, pointing out the rooms with doors. “These are group therapy rooms.”
“Why don’t the other rooms have doors?” I asked.
She flashed that beautiful smile and said, “You know why the rooms don’t have doors.”
I could imagine closing my bedroom door and making out with her, feeling her soft breasts fill my hands. She could sit on top of me, her graceful legs draped across mine. I would slide my hands up from her hips to her waist to her chest, tracing the hourglass curve of her figure. I would run my thumbs across her nipples and watch them peak beneath the fabric of her shirt.
I smiled, thinking that was probably only one of the reasons there were no doors. Was it my imagination, or did I catch her smiling too? She turned away before I could confirm her reaction, but something in the way she moved made me think she shared my inclinations. I would have to be careful. I couldn’t be the first patient to misinterpret her affection. The last thing I wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.
“Will I have to continue the group meetings?” I asked to clear the air.
“Yes.” She turned back to me, without a hint of impropriety. “There’s a schedule here.” She led me to a whiteboard posted between the two rooms. We looked for my name together and found it: P. Hayes, 2:30. “You’ve seen the game room and the gym?”
“Yeah.”
“There will be a group med check as well three times a day,” she explained. “You’ll all line up at the nurses’ station.”
“Great.” I flashed a smile.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” I shook my head. It was hard to explain that I didn’t want her to see me in my pajamas, lined up with the rest of the crazies, asking for pills. But the reality of the situation was that I was a patient, and she was a nurse. We were on two sides of the medical divide, and I would prove nothing by being noncompliant.
“Well, I have to continue my rounds,” she excused herself.
I had to say something before she left, something witty and attractive that would ensure a second visit. I had no idea how the staff worked around here or whether she would still be checking up on me. Now that she didn’t have to bring me my medications or check my vitals, would she even come around? I had one shot to impress her and a million things working against me.
“Thanks for taking the time to show me around,” I said, opting for a simple expression of gratitude.
“You’re welcome,” she said cheerfully, before moving away and disappearing into the nurses’ station. She gave me no hint of friendship beyond the professional courtesy allotted to all her patients.
I sighed, looking at my wrist as if I had ever worn a watch. I scanned the walls for a clock and, finding one, discovered I had fifteen minutes left to kill before the group session. I picked a chair and sat down. With no phone, no book, and no one to talk to, I just sat, waiting. It was an odd experience. I had always spent my time high or trying to get high, working or getting ready to go to work. I had never just sat still before coming to this place. It wasn’t altogether a bad sensation; I realized there was more going on in my brain than I gave myself credit for.
I thought about Mike and Dillon, how they had cabins in the mountains. I wondered if I could score something like that for myself. Maybe I could invite Gina to visit. We could grill up some chicken and veggies and make a night of it. Before I had gotten any further into the daydream, the doors opened, and a dozen patients shuffled into the common room. I stood to take my place in the group therapy room.