I dropped my shoes in the trash, along with my socks and the gloves I still had on, before falling onto the couch in the attending’s lounge. My whole body ached, and not in the way I liked. It had been one of those days that just kept kicking you when you were already down. I had been feeling like crap for a week and I had no idea why.
“God, what is that smell?” I heard someone say as they entered.
I didn’t lift my arm from over my eyes. “That would be the trash and my shoes.” More from my shoes than the trash, but whatever.
“Yep.” He must have sniffed. “Aftermath of the highway accident?”
Nodding, I tried to drown out the voice of Dr. Ian Seo, a plastic surgeon attending of both Korean and American decent whose calm and relaxed voice frustrated me to no end. Every day he enjoyed a fresh, home-cooked lunch he'd had time to prepare…because, well, he was a plastic surgeon. He would take his time, walking through the hospital as if nothing was going on, sucking fat from women who barely had any to begin with, doing a few breast and butt lifts before calling it a day. Every time I saw him, I wondered why I too had not chosen the path of serenity that was plastics.
Because I would gouge out my eyes from boredom, that’s why. I laughed at that, sitting upright, then rolled my eyes at him eating his banana-flavored yogurt, his black hair pulled into a small ponytail and his dark-eyed gaze on me. “Why are you still here, anyway? You're usually gone by five.”
“Aw, you noticed?”
“How can I not? That’s when my headaches stop.” I got up and headed to my locker.
“You are hurtful.”
“I know.” I smiled, pulling open the door. No longer paying attention to him, I was surprised to find a pair of navy and white Nike men’s tennis shoes waiting for me.
What in the hell? The note on the laces read: Dr. Davenport,
Here. Sorry for judging you.
You did well today.
You were kinda cool today.
I won’t be calling you Dr. Asshole again.
If the shoes don’t fit, sorry again, I guessed, receipt is in the box.
See you at home.
See you back at the apartment.
Bye,
Gwen.
She could not be serious. Had she even thought this through before writing it? Oh dear god, why hadn’t she used a new piece of paper?
“What is so funny?” Dr. Seo said when I looked up.
“What?”
He pointed his spoon at me. “The smile on your face right now, it’s blinding me. What is so funny?”
“I’m not smiling, because nothing is funny—”
“I took a picture.” He held up his phone, the photo showing me in profile.
“You what!”
“And I just sent it to everyone in the hospital!” He clicked a button.
I was tempted to cause him bodily harm. “Are you twelve? What is wrong with you?”
“No one would believe me if I said you smiled.” He shrugged. “I had to prove it.” What is this, junior high?
“I smile all the time, you ass,” I muttered, grabbing the shoes and undoing the laces.
He snorted, licking the lid to his second yogurt. “That thing you do with your face to patients does not count as a smile.”
“You are an—” I stopped when I slipped my feet in, and sure enough, the shoes fit perfectly. My feet relaxed into the soft foam. How in the hell did she know my shoe size?
Click. Glancing up, I saw that the asshole had taken another photo of me.
“You were doing it again! Now you’ve got to tell me.”
Putting on the other shoe, I got up and grabbed his stupid phone from his grimy little fingers, walked over to the bin, and dropped it inside.
“Hey! I just got that!”
“Not my problem,” I replied, turning to leave, but stopping when he came over to the trash. “Take any more photos of me, and I will tell the chairwoman what you did in the fourth floor lab.”
“That’s your big threat? You'll tell Mommy?”
I pulled out my phone and began to dial.
He sighed. “Fine.”
“Goodnight, Ian.”
Leaving the lounge, I tried my best not to make eye contact with any of the staff who I could tell had gotten his bloody photo. They giggled, and it made me want to go over there and grab all of them.
Making it to the front entrance, I stopped when I saw her, still in her dark ripped jeans, yellow v-neck shirt, combat boots, and hat. She leaned against the wall under the hospital sign, bopping her head to whatever she was listening to as she drew.
She’s busy. But, I should thank her for the shoes. Without realizing it, I had already walked to her. She was so into her own little world, she didn’t notice me until I dropped down in front of her and waved.
“Jesus Christ of Nazareth, you scared me.” She jumped, hugging her drawing to her chest. I couldn’t deny my eyes were glued to her breasts for a half a second as she pulled out her earphones.
“I scared you?” I replied, sitting next to her.
“All day, no one has seen me.” She laughed, closing her book.