Page 6 of Sebastian

All that was to say, I couldn’t remember the last time I set foot in a hospital. It was more chaotic than I expected. People were constantly moving around, machines beeped just out of sight, and staticy announcements blared from the PA system every few minutes.

I observed it all with wary curiosity as I sat on a hard chair in the waiting room. The John Doe I was there to visit was apparently kept in a special secluded ward where people couldn’t just wander in. I needed someone to take me there, but no one seemed in a hurry to do so. Half an hour had passed with nothing to do but read outdated magazines before someone finally called my name.

“Bastian Roth?”

I looked up as my moniker was called out. Freckles and blue eyes filled my vision. A young man dressed in scrubs stood before me with a bright smile on his face. He had red hair—properly ginger, not the auburn color that people often called red—and a pale complexion that made every freckle on his nose and cheeks stand out in stark contrast.

It was like he had a constellation on his face. For a moment I was envious. This man carried his own lucky stars with him wherever he went.

Too late, I realized the sound of my name had been a question and I hadn’t answered.

Confusion dimmed the man’s smile. “Are you not Bastian Roth? The front desk pointed me toward you, but maybe they were wrong.”

Clearing my throat, I stood and tried to look confident, like I hadn’t just made such a stupid blunder as forgetting to respond to the name.

“That’s me.”

“Great.” The smile was back, even brighter than before. “I’m nurse Clary, but you can just call me Newt. Everyone does. You’re here about the John Doe, right? I can take you to see him. Follow me.”

There was no time to reply before the nurse was already walking away. I hurried to follow. If I got lost in this labyrinth of hallways, I would never find my way out without a guide.

Newt?

It was an odd name, probably short for something else, but appropriately cute. Everything about the man was cute. He was small in stature, both in height and width. There was nearly a foot of difference between us, and his steps barely seemed to touch the linoleum floor when he walked. Red hair hung just long enough to touch his chin. Most of it had been pulled back into the smallest ponytail I had ever seen, like a pompom on the back of his head. However, a few locks at the front didn’t reach the ponytail and were instead kept out of his face by a pair of barrettes.

Even his scrubs were cute, covered in a colorful Pac-Man design. I hadn’t played the game in a while, but I knew how it worked. Instinctually, my gaze traveled down his clothes, plotting out a course through the printed maze that would allow me to collect the most dots and cherries while avoiding ghosts.

It wasn’t until I found myself staring at the other man’s ass that I realized what I was doing. I’d just been ogling this nurse for several minutes. My thoughts had been innocent, but no one else would know that. From the outside, I probably looked like a letch.

My ears burned hot with embarrassment. I looked away, quickly glancing around to see if anyone had noticed my inappropriate behavior. No one glared at me, so hopefully not, but that was no guarantee.

I sped up so Newt and I walked side by side. This change in position seemed to inspire conversation, for the other man immediately started talking.

“I actually brought this John Doe in a few days ago. It was a warehouse fire. Pretty bad. Hopefully, you can give us some info about his identity. He’ll need support to recover, and I hate that he’s just lying here alone.”

I could feel blue eyes looking up at me, but I kept my gaze carefully pointed forward. “Brought him in?”

“Oh, yeah, I, um...” Newt nervously scratched at his temple, dislodging one of the barrettes so it hung crooked. “I’m a paramedic at Firehouse Twenty-One. We were the ones who responded to the fire, and I’m the one who brought this John Doe to the hospital.”

As we stopped at one of the many identical doors, I considered Newt again.

“You don’t look like a paramedic. How can you do that and be a nurse?”

If anything, he looked like he should be working with kids. Maybe as a preschool teacher or a nanny. From what I knew about paramedics and nurses, both seemed like difficult jobs.

Where did he find enough hours in the day?

He stopped with his hand on the handle of the door. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” He laughed, but it didn’t sound happy. “However, I passed all the physical requirements, so don’t worry about that. Plus, I’m just a nursing assistant. Not a fully registered nurse. So I only work here part time.”

Had I said something wrong?

Newt seemed uncomfortable, twisting at the hem of his scrubs in his free hand like he was wringing them dry. That was a clear sign of nervousness, but I couldn’t see anything he had to be nervous about.

Damien often accused me of having a mean resting-bitch-face. When I wasn’t actively trying to express an emotion, my face naturally settled into a shape that made it look like I was scowling. Along with my size, and my habit of remaining quiet around people I didn’t know, it apparently made for an intimidating combination.

Hoping to relieve the tension that had developed between us, I flashed him an awkward smile. “Having two jobs is still impressive. I can barely handle one some days.”

The smile sat awkwardly on my face. Too much of my teeth showed. I felt like a bad imitation of the Cheshire cat. However, my effort worked well enough for Newt to stop fidgeting and finally open the door.

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