Medicine Man (Page 7)

I look away from him. I’m embarrassed now. The way Beth described me sounded lame. Although, I am a good girl. I’ve always followed the rules, listened to my mom and teachers, taken my meds on time.

So, good girl. That’s me.

I don’t know why hearing that bothers me though.

Or the fact that he barely even throws us a smile. He nods, twitches his lips half-heartedly, hardly making eye contact. You can’t call it rude; all of it is polite.

Except, I don’t like it.

Beth continues, “And girls, this here is our new doctor, Dr. Blackwood.”

Even though I knew who he was, my heart races as if I’m hearing it for the first time. The shock of who this man is, is still new and vivid. It’ll probably never wear off.

Again, Dr. Blackwood throws out a slight nod and a small smile. It’s all right and well-timed and nice. And I bet he forgot our names as soon as he heard them. I bet he won’t even remember this encounter tomorrow.

Dear God, it bothers me so much. So fucking much and it doesn’t make sense.

The way he’s not looking at us… at me. The way he said, You might want to fix your book.

“Oh, so you are Dr. Blackwood,” Renn muses. “Can you confirm your age for me? Like, really quickly?”

“Renn!” Beth chides, glaring, and I do the same, forgetting my strange irritation at the man in front of us.

“What? I didn’t ask your age.” Renn rolls her eyes at Beth, pointing to me. “We’ve got a little bet going.”

Damn the bet. I’d completely forgotten about it until Renn popped her stupid, inappropriate question.

“Are you kidding me?” I snap, pointedly looking away from Beth and Dr. Blackwood.

“What? It’s the truth.” Renn shrugs like she’s so innocent. “Besides, you should be worried right now, dude. You lost.”

“I did not lose.” I look at Beth and reassure her, “I wasn’t even playing.”

“Are you kidding me now? Didn’t you say he was short and bald? You put your money on that.”

Beth gasps. “Renn! Willow? Why would you –”

Renn doesn’t let her speak. “No, actually. She said he likes to fart twice in an hour. Then, in the group she said she’d met him and he was short and bald.”

My eyes bug out. “What? I…”

“Both of you –” Beth begins but this time, it’s me who talks over her.

“First of all, the bet was Renn’s idea.” I glare at her, my face flaming, flaming. “And second of all, everybody was freaking out in the group. They were worried about his aura, okay? It was a mess. I had to do something. So I kinda made things up. I did get everyone to calm down, didn’t I?”

“Is that what you do?”

This is the first time he’s said something ever since this nonsensical argument sprouted up.

It’s a wonder I even hear him over my own pounding heartbeats. Somehow, someway, I turn my eyes to him. That’s a wonder too, given my level of embarrassment.

Is it weird that I’m sweating everywhere, even under my bangs? I blow on them and he glances at the fluttering strands before looking into my eyes. Not in passing, but really. Like he’s really seeing me.

The earth tilts slightly but I plant my feet wide and refuse to be moved as he takes me in. My loose topknot, with strands of hair sprinkled around my face, clinging to the nape of my neck. Even though, his gaze flicks along my features and he doesn’t look anywhere else below that, I still try to remember what I’m wearing. I think I’ve got a white t-shirt on with the quote across my breasts, “Just a wizard girl, living in a muggle world.” Oh, and sweatpants with my bunny slippers.

In my outrageous nightmares, I saw them putting me in a straitjacket as soon as I arrived at the facility. But apparently mental hospitals don’t do that anymore. They told me to bring my most comfortable clothes and, well, what’s more comfortable than my Harry Potter t-shirts and sweatpants?

But oddly, I’m regretting my wardrobe choices now. Which obviously means that I’ve lost my mind. Well, more than usual. I lift my chin in defiance and something flashes across his impassive face. I can’t say what, however.

“Do what?” I ask.

“Make things up?”

I want to fidget under his gray eyes but I control myself and hug my book tighter.

What kind of a question is that?

See? Psychiatrists ask stupid, irrelevant questions.

I frown. “I don’t make things up. I elaborate.”

He stays silent for so long that I think he’ll never speak again. But he does, very casually. “And that’s clearly very different from each other.”

“Yes.” I smile. “As a matter of fact, they are very different from each other.”

“You do that often – elaborate, I mean?”

“Is that a trick question?”

 “No, just a regular, run-of-the-mill question.”

I can’t figure out if he’s serious or not. I mean, he looks serious but there was something there on his face, in his voice, some kind of amusement, wryness, that makes me think he’s having fun with this.

Well, whatever.

“Then the answer is no. I don’t elaborate.” A voice in the back of my mind disagrees but I squash it. “Besides, I was only doing it to make people feel better. Isn’t that your whole job? I was basically doing it for you.”

Beth gasps and Renn snorts.

But Dr. Blackwood ignores both of them and asks, “You were, huh?”

“Yes.”

For a beat, all he does is scan my face without a word, jacking up my heart even more. Like his stare is a certain drug.

But then he ducks his head, his dark, wet hair glinting under the hallway lights. He looks back up with half a smile. One-fourth of a smile, actually. “Well, then I owe you one. Thank you for doing my job for me. I appreciate it very much.”

Before I can say anything, Renn jumps in, highly amused. “Just give her a lime jello, she’ll be happy.”

But Dr. Blackwood doesn’t pay her any attention. “Maybe I will,” he says to me.

He steps back, probably ready to put this whole conversation behind him. “It was nice meeting both of you. And… I’m thirty-three, by the way.”

Renn fist-pumps. “Yes.”

Before he leaves though, his eyes drop to the book in my arms and I clutch it tightly, as if he’ll take it away. “Let me know if you need any help fixing your book.”

This time, however, I’m having a hard time keeping my face blank at the word fix. So I might have pursed my lips; I’m not sure.

Stop saying fix, you moron.

I swear, I see a distinct twitch on his mouth as he glances at me one last time and leaves. I glare after him and his ridiculously tall and broad body, encased in clothes that seem to be made just for him.

It’s like he knows that word affects me. He knows how much I hate it.

Fix.

That’s what people have been saying to me for the past two weeks. Especially my mom.

We need to fix this, Lolo. What if it happens again?

Why won’t you let the doctor fix you, Lolo?

A few weeks at Heartstone is going to fix you right up, Lolo.

But that’s stupid because there’s no way he could’ve known. We’ve only just met.

Oh and he’s fifteen years older than Renn… and me. But that doesn’t matter.