Page 18 of Doctor Charmer

“You’re playing checkers while I’m a chess master,” she says. I reach a hand down and help her up. “I think it’s clear round one is mine.”

I bend at my waist and slap off the snow from my pants leg. “I concede,” I say with a smile on my face. “Well played.”

I can’t believe how much I enjoyed this silly game. Maybe being twelve isn’t so bad. Every day, I make split-second life-and-death decisions. Some days, that weight threatens to crush me. It feels good to take a step back and just be carefree for a moment in time.

“Thank you.”

She gives me a look of appreciation as if she can read my mind, and I no longer doubt it. I wave a hand toward the building. “Let’s get back before we turn into snowmen. Hot chocolate is on you.”

She takes the lead and giggles. “It always was.” She says the words as if she’s scripted my every move.

“I’ll get you in round two.”

She grabs the door handle, stepping to the side and holding the door open for me. The curl of her lips is expected. “It’s cute that you think you stand a chance. I see you, Reggie. The real you.” I step into the warmth of the hospital and let her words wash over me. She gets the last word, something I once owned. Her words play on repeat in my head.You don’t stand a chance.

And after this, I’m starting to believe her.

Chapter Ten

Ivy

The sounds of Christmas carols surprise me when I step into Chelsea and Griffin’s hospital room. Chelsea’s singing a hip-hop remixed version of the classic “White Christmas” but halts as I enter. My sneakers squeak across the recently mopped linoleum that carries that unique hospital scent of bleach, spearmint, and lemon.

She props herself up on her elbows, her leg dangling in the sling strung from a metal mount attached to the frame of the bed.

“Hey, Chels.” I place the three bags of goodies on the empty food tray in front of them.

“Coach, good to see you. What you got there?”

“I brought you guys some food and some distractions.” I flip two of the bags to show the McDonald’s logo. I remember living off McDonald’s and Wendy’s when I was their age. It seems like yesterday but is now over a dozen years ago.

“Gimme.” The radiant smile on her face is the best reward.

“McNuggets or burger?” I hold up each bag, giving her first choice.

She steals a glance over at the empty bed. “I’m a fast eater. Can I say both, and we don’t say a word to Griffin?” she jokes and points to the nuggets.

I put the Quarter Pounder bag back on the tray and walk to the side of her bed, handing her the bag. “Where’s your knight in shining armor?” I slide my hip onto the side of the bed, and she scoots over to make room.

“They took him down for more X-rays. Every hour, they’re checking in on him.” She rips open the bag, snatching the container of McNuggets and setting them on the bed in front of her. I sneak my hand into the bag for a couple of fries, stuffing them into my mouth. Her eyes go wide with false shock.

“Bag fries. They’re the best part of the meal.” I watch as she devours three nuggets in record time. You’d never know she was fed lunch less than two hours ago.

“I think the nurses have a thing for Griffin. That’s why they keep coming in so often.” Her words catch me off guard. I’ve heard her say similar things about her teammates. In the past, it sounded like judgment, as in how could they fall so easily for him. This is the first time I hear what sounds like jealousy and envy. She had clearly and publicly put him in the friend zone. But for the first time, I suspect different.

“The way they fawn all over him. This one nurse looks in the room at him every time she passes by, which is like… a lot. If I wasn’t here, I bet she’d probably just sit here all day and stare at him. Creepy, right?”

I don’t tell her she’s imagining something when she’s already convinced herself otherwise. “Everyone knows he’s a looker. I’ve seen the post where you gals rated his hotness level.”

“I didn’t vote.” Her snapback is hard.

“If you did, where would you have ranked him?” I ask out of curiosity.

She shrugs and stuffs a fry into her mouth to delay responding. “Doesn’t matter. His head is already big enough.” Her non-reply answers for her.

“Well, consider yourself the lucky one. You get to spend all this quality time with him and can be yourself. No silly giggling at his jokes that aren’t funny. No pumping his ego up with false flattery.” I hop off the bed, grabbing the other bag I brought, and dig in.

“I would never do that, even if I was interested in him. Is that what the girls do? And they wonder why guys break up with them when they discover who they really are.”

---