When I get home from class today, I discover a huge basket of flowers that takes up half my bed. A lavender card is embedded between two lilies, and I open it up to see Abe’s handwriting:Please forgive me.
Rachel is lying in my bed with headphones over her ears. She pulls them off and makes a face.
“I think your boyfriend is single-handedly supporting the flower industry.”
I bring my nose close to the bouquet to inhale the scent. I love lilies, and Abe knows it. And the fact that he doesn't have much money to drop on flowers makes the gesture even sweeter. I almost feel guilty.
Almost.
“Seriously,” Rachel says, “will you just forgive him already? Before I asphyxiate from all the pollen?”
I stare at my roommate in surprise. “You approve of my relationship with Abe? I can’t believe it.”
Rachel shrugs. “Well, he appears to make you happy and… I guess he’s not as horrible as most guys.” She shakes her head. “So what despicable thing did he do to piss you off anyway?”
I just shake my head. I wish I could tell Rachel everything. But even though we’ve been living together for months, I don’t trust Rachel. Especially since I’m fairly sure she’s hooking up with someone in the class, and she won’t tell me who. She frequently disappears late into the night and returns with her hair disheveled and a secret smile on her face. I asked her about it once, and she told me she didn’t have time for silly things like sex.
Anyway, this is Abe’s secret, and I don’t want to share it with just anybody, even if I don’t know what it is.
Instead, I leave the flowers on the bed and drive back to the hospital. I’ve got to talk tosomeoneabout this. But Abe is my best friend at this school—really, my only close friend. So there’s one other person who comes to mind that I can confide in.
Dr. Patrice Winters’s office is directly above the anatomy labs. I saw her one time, as required, when school first started, but the session barely lasted half an hour because I didn’t feel like I had much to say back then. Today, I’ve got a lot more to talk about.
It’s a long shot that she’ll be around—I fully expect to have to make an appointment—but I figure it can’t hurt to drop by. Patrice is a therapist, so anything I tell her will be confidential, and that’s exactly what I’m looking for right now.
I’m surprised to see the door to her office is ajar. I walk over tentatively but stop when I hear a familiar voice from inside. I recognize it instantly as belonging to Dr. Conlon.
“Thank you so much, Patrice,” he’s saying. “You’re the best. Really.”
“Anything for you, Matt,” she replies.
I freeze. I may just be a med student, but I’m also a girl, and I recognize flirtation. Patrice’s words are just dripping with it. Is there something going on between the two of them? I wouldn’t be surprised. But if there were, wouldn’t they close the door all the way?
Before I can contemplate further, the door is yanked open in front of me, and I nearly fall into the office. Dr. Conlon’s blue eyes widen when he sees me. “Heather?”
I straighten up, trying to smile. Patrice looks decidedly annoyed, but her face changes when she hears Dr. Conlon say my name. Her features soften, and she holds out her hand to me.
“Heather McKinley,” she says. “Please come in.”
It’s like she’s been waiting for me. Creepy.
Dr. Conlon limps off and closes the door behind him. Patrice gestures at the sofa in front of her desk, which is light blue, and I sink into it so deeply that I’m worried I might not be able to get up. Patrice has mood lighting going on in here, although part of me wonders if that was for Dr. Conlon’s benefit.
“So, Heather,” Patrice says, sliding a pair of half-moon glasses up her narrow nose. “What brings you to see me?”
“It’s…” I want to tell her everything, but I can’t. This woman makes me uncomfortable. “It’s silly.”
“Nothing is silly, Heather,” she assures me.
I squeeze my fists together. Okay, I need to just say it. If I don’t talk to somebody about this, I’m going to burst. Even if that somebody is Patrice.
“It’s about my boyfriend,” I say. “He’s a student here. Abe Kaufman.”
Patrice nods.
“He’s acting weird,” I continue. “I mean,reallyweird.”
Patrice nods again.
