Page 33 of The Fake Date Agreement

I shake my head. “No. I feel okay.”

The door opens a little more, and I catch a glimpse of the doctor. He’s an older man who looks to be in his mid-fifties, sitting behind a large walnut-brown desk. He has salt-and-pepper hair, a smooth jaw, clear blue eyes, and enough lines around them that I know they’re not just a result of old age but from smiling often.

“Usually, we know pretty soon if it’s a concussion. You’re standing, have no headache, and you’re not green,” he says.

“I was a little dizzy before. It went away quickly, but Caleb said it was important to get checked out.”

“Can’t hurt to double-check these things. Hop on the table, if you won’t mind, and take off your glasses.” He gets to his feet. I thought being a doctor, he’d be wearing a white coat, but he’s in black sweatpants and a navy Wolverines’ sweatshirt.

Caleb parks himself against the wall, those powerful arms folded as I perch on a black leather examination table I hadn’t seen from the door. I slide my glasses off my face and place them beside me, my world instantly blurry.

He does a similar, but more thorough, exploration of the back of my head. “I feel it. Can you follow my finger with your eyes?” He lifts his index finger, and I track it as he moves it from left to right. When he nods, I assume all is well. Then he picks up a small torch from his desk. “Mind if I briefly blind you?”

“Go for it.”

He shines his torch into both eyes and hums. “Pupils are fine. Head is fine. That lump should go down in a day or two. If not, come back and see me. You’re a little dented, Miss Myers, but nothing is broken.”

I smile as I put my glasses back on. “Thanks, Doc.”

“How’d it happen?”

I glance at Caleb, who tilts his head, as interested in my answer as the doctor is. He knows I knocked myself out in the bathroom stall, but I will never reveal the utter stupidity of what led to it. That shit is going to my grave.

“Uh, just by accident. A freak accident.”

“Well, be careful out there. Here.” Doc offers me a red, plastic-wrapped lollipop with a flourish.

“Thanks.” I glance at Caleb as I take it. “Doesn’t he get one?”

Doc returns to the other side of his desk and the stack of papers we must have distracted him from. “When he takes a day off. Has that happened yet?” he asks Caleb as he pulls his chair to the table.

Caleb straightens. “Let’s go, Tobie.”

Doc mutters something as Caleb leads me out of the room. Just before the door slams closed, he shouts, “That’s a doctor’s order. Take a day off.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my smile as Caleb scowls into the distance. “Come on.”

“That’s a first.”

He glances down at me, his eyes snagging on my lollipop as I peel the plastic off. “What?”

“A doctor ordering you to take a day off. And this.” I lift my lollipop. “My doctor never gave me one.”

“Not even as a kid?”

“Nope. Think he had a thing about sugar.” I offer him the lollipop. “Here. You should have it. You’re the one who brought me to get checked out.”

As he shakes his head, his eyes dip to my lollipop, making me think he does want it. “It’s yours, Myers. And those are bribes. Doc thinks if he has candy, it’ll encourage us to go see him for all our ailments instead of ignoring them.”

“Does it work?”

“Only with one of us.”

I pause before stepping out of the arena door he holds open for me. “Myers?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry. I get used to calling everyone by their last name.”

“I don’t mind.” It feels like a nickname, and no one ever gave me one of those before.

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