Page 82 of Chasing Forever
Poppy jumps on a chair to follow her. Grumbles from the people behind us start, but then the chair buckles, and Poppy goes with it.
Fuck, this night just got a lot longer.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lottie
We arrive at the hospital to find a packed waiting room. Coughs echo throughout. A kid cries while his mom rocks him. It smells like antiseptic and old coffee. When Brooks drops us off, he’s silent, his jaw tense as he lifts Poppy into a wheelchair, telling me to check her in while he parks the truck.
His eyes don’t meet mine. Not even for a second. And I know I only have myself to blame.
“What’s going on with you two?” Poppy asks as we wait in line at the receptionist.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You haven’t kissed. You’re barely looking at him. After the way you guys were the night of the softball game, I thought for sure you’d be all over each other tonight.”
I should probably talk to someone about what Mrs. Watson said to me. Although I’m sure they’d say not to take her seriously. Probably call her a bitch. But they weren’t there. They didn’t hear her voice, calm and cruel, as though she enjoyed gutting me with every insult. Each word was calculated. Measured. She knew exactly how to inflict as much damage as she could. How do I marry into that and live every day waiting for another blow to hit? The alternative is to be the reason Brooks cuts off his family. It’s a no-win situation.
“Did you want me to bang him in the middle of the concert?”
She gives me the look. The one that says to stop being so dramatic and tell her what’s bothering me.
“I’m done being the fix-it case,” I say.
Which has nothing to do with Mrs. Watson and her pretty much telling me that Brooks looked for the most broken girl to put back together, and I was the winner—as if I’m a charity project. It’s the way everyone sees me since Holden left me at the altar. The scorned girl. The broken one. I’m exhausted from everyone looking at me as if I’ll never be whole again.
“You’re not a fix-it case.” Poppy grabs my arm.
What else is she going to say though?
Thankfully, we’re next and I check Poppy in to be seen by a doctor. The sound of phones ringing and names being called over the PA system swirls around us like white noise. Brooks joins us the minute we step in, and a nurse comes out of the back to ask the receptionist a question.
“Tegan?” Brooks says, and I turn to him and back to the nurse.
The cute brunette with curly hair glances up. She smiles. It’s not a polite, professional smile, but one that says, Damn, you still look good.
“Brooks.” She takes in that Poppy and I are with him, and suddenly that glow on her face flickers, and she realizes there’s more than just her and Brooks here.
Poppy glances at me, but I ignore her stare I’m sure is asking if I know who the woman is.
“How are you?” Tegan asks.
“Good. You?”
I step back as if I’ve disappeared and been replaced by Little Miss I’ll Kiss Your Boo-Boos.
“Working.” Her gaze falls to me then Poppy.
Nice of her to notice us again.
“Who do we have here?” She glances at the room full of people behind us.
“We were at the Zander Shaw concert, and she fell off a chair. I think her ankle is broken,” Brooks answers for us.
I’m so not jealous. Not at all.
“It might just be sprained,” I say, and they all look at me. “I mean, he’s not a doctor or anything.”
