Page 88 of Fostering Chemistry
“But how? She can’t just go to some fancy hotel and say, ‘I want to intern here.’”
“Why not?”
“Because… just because.” But I couldn’t help thinking about his story. “Even if she did that, she’s already applied everywhere.”
“She’s applied to the places that already offer internships,” Diego said gently. “Not tried the ones that don’t. There’s this place way up in the mountains, a ski resort for the mega-rich. People in town refer to it as the Aspen of the Appalachians. Maybe she could try there? I’ve never been there, but Aaron has. You could ask him about it.”
“Thanks,” I said. It was a little hard to follow his words, but I made a mental note to do that. I’d misjudged Zoe and upset her, and I owed it to her to do what I could to help.
Then they called my name. I stood up quickly, which was a mistake. The waiting room spun in a drunken circle.
Diego sprang up, steadying me. But the last thing I wanted right now was him touching me. Not when things were so awkward between us. And not when my skin felt so heated and flushed and gross.
I took two steps, and then my leg buckled. Why was it so hard to walk? I’d had no trouble walking around campus this morning. Well, I’d had less trouble than I did now. Diego pulled my arm around his shoulder and slung his around my waist, and I leaned heavily on him. There wasn’t much other choice.
We followed the nurse into an exam room, and he lifted me up and set me at the edge of the exam table.
Then he stepped away, clearly intending to go to the door. But I slumped to the side, and he jumped back, supporting me again. What the hell was wrong with me? It was like I was drunk or something. And being drunk around Diego hadn’t ended very well the last time. Though it had felt great at the time.
“Your boyfriend can stay,” the nurse said as she brought over a blood pressure cuff. Wait, my what now? She fastened the cuff tightly on my upper arm, and said in a loud stage whisper, “He’s so handsome!”
Oh god.
Every time I thought this day couldn’t get any worse, it did. I was careful not to look up at Diego, but since I was currently slumped against his chest, it was embarrassing anyway.
After that, things happened quickly. The nurse proclaimed that I had a fever, and that was why I was so loopy. Was loopy a medical term?
The doctor came in and asked some routine questions. “Any cuts or scrapes recently?” he asked, pulling on gloves. “Open wounds that might have gotten infected?”
I shook my head.
“She’s limping,” Diego said.
The doctor made me lie back on the exam table and asked which leg hurt. He touched my right one, and nothing happened. Then he touched my left leg, and I screamed.
“That’s the one,” the doctor said. “Can I roll up your pants on that side?”
I stared dazedly at the ceiling while the doctor examined my leg, every touch painful. Diego stood by my side, holding my hand, and kept up a steady stream of stories about how the other residents of the Baylor House had eventually started listening to him as he whipped the place into shape. I couldn’t focus very well, but somehow, it was nice to hear his calm, steady voice.
“When did you get this cut?” A male voice cut in. Oh yeah, it was the doctor.
“What cut?”
“On your calf.”
Diego sucked in a sharp breath, wincing. Maybe it was good I couldn’t see it.
“I don’t know,” I said. “The other day.”
The doctor waited. “You don’t know, or you do?”
“I was babysitting. He was so cute.”
“She means the baby,” Diego said.
“And… I went out on the front porch, and there was this old metal porch swing, and when I sat down, I felt a sting.”
“I see. Was your leg uncovered at the time?”
