Page 15 of Detention with Daddies

I’ve set up a file for each of my subjects, so I run the labs that I’m able to. I’m still waiting on some of the lab work that I don’t have the skill set to run myself.

At noon, I leave the lab, locking it up behind me.

I feel the attention of a group of nurses just down the hall. Three of them. A beautiful, tiny blonde woman. A busty brunette with a bad fake tan and fake lashes—I mean, not my thing, but to each their own. And a slender sandy-haired guy with a little too much flair not to be gay. Or bi.

Again, no judgments here.

But I’ve been here for a few weeks already, and they haven’t so much as blinked my way. Now, they’re flagging me down.

“Hey, we haven’t been able to properly introduce ourselves.” The blonde gives me an acrid smile, and I try to take it at face value, but my gut is churning. “You headed to lunch?”

They have me surrounded before I can respond. The brunette has her hand at my elbow, and I’m moving toward the cafeteria without making the conscious choice.

I’ve heard their names in passing, but they introduce themselves—Britney, Angelica, and Jeremy, in that order.

They chatter easily without me and pull me to their table when I’ve gotten my roasted sweet potato, side salad, and fried chicken strips. I catch how Britney rolls her eyes at Angelica before we sit.

I’ve met a million little groups like these three. Put-on friendliness. Show pity to the fat girl. Like I couldn’t possibly make friends for myself.

They’re wrong, but it takes far too much effort to combat it, so I go along. It’s not like I haven’t been here before.

It’s too bad I don’t see Salazar. He’d easily pull me over to sit with him. We do usually eat together after all.

Or is that why I’ve been bombarded by the Barbie squad today?

And these three are a bit intense. Giggling at some kind of inside jokes and half-cocked comment that I don’t want to think too hard about.

When I’m settled in and halfway through my salad, the questions start.

“So you’re the one working with the obese group, right? That’s so adorable.” Angelica crunches on a carrot stick. Loudly.

“Are you planning to help them lose weight?” Britney asks.

“Test the effects of an extra hundred pounds on joints and organs?” Jeremy’s brow raises.

That spikes my ire. “No. Not at all. I’m actually studying how physical activity without a change in diet can improve health, even in the obese and overweight. That we can be treated without everything revolving around how fat we are.”

The trio either doesn’t notice that their questions and comments—their judgments—bother me, or they’re openly laughing at me.

I’m betting on the second.

Britney’s mouth twists to the side. “Aw, that’s cute.”

The politeness falls, and I’m done pretending to be nice to people who can’t bother being nice in return.

“Good luck with that.” Angelica snickers again, stirring her yogurt and berries.

“And you had Dr. Wright sign off on that? He’s notorious for his views on the ideal body.”

I press my lips together and collect my lunch tray, ready to vacate this toxic table and go back to my lab and eat.

“Oh, don’t get offended.” Britney singsongs in her nasally voice. “It’s nearly impossible to change medical opinions with all of the proof we have about how dangerous it is to have excess weight like that.”

Like that. They mean, like me.

Before I can stand, there’s a presence behind me, stubble brushing my hair, and Salazar’s rich scent hits my nose.

“Hey, Liv. You didn’t save me a seat. Come on. I’ve got that treat I was telling you about.”

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