I nod once. “Okay.”
“You don’t think that’s stupid?”
“Nothing you do is stupid, Clark,” I murmur, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, to which he closes his eyes, “you have to stop doubting yourself. You’re the boy genius, remember? You have a photographic memory, for Christ’s sake.”
Tate observes me for a second, his dark eyes darting around my face, before he shoots me a warm smile and slowly leans toward me again to kiss the corner of my mouth.
“Thank you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
TATUM
Wednesday, December 29th
Idon’t remember ever getting my blood drawn. Vaccinations, yes, but those are different. They’re not… They’re not taking blood from you with a measly little shot. I never went to the doctor as a kid; it wasn’t until I moved to a foster home that I finally got a physical and caught up on all the vaccines a kid my age was supposed to have. If my mom took me to the doctor, they’d know I was abused, so I just…never went.
I still don’t know how she managed to get by as long as she did like that. But then again, it just goes to show how much people really don’t care when it comes to children. Too many things get overlooked, things that could save a kid from a childhood like mine.
Shaking my head, I rid those thoughts as I sit up straighter next to Maeve in one of the little blue chairs against the wall in the room, waiting for the nurse to come back in with everything she needs to take the blood samples.
The hair on my neck pricks at the reminder, and my chest feels tight with the nervous anticipation of what’s to come. My knee bounces because I can’t keep still, not like this.
“I don’t think I’m good with needles.” I swallow thickly.
“You don’tthinkso?” Maeve asks, her eyebrows raising as she swings her head to the side to look at me. “You don’t know?”
“I’ve never had my blood drawn before.”
“What about shots?” she offers. “I’m sure you’ve had those.”
I nod. “It’s been a while.”
Even my hands are clammy now; I can feel the slight sheen of sweat building on them, so I hurriedly swipe them down my pants. Before I can repeat the process over again, Maeve reaches over and takes my hand in hers, giving me a gentle squeeze.
“I’m right here, Clark,” she reassures me. “I’ll be here the whole time.”
That should help, but right now, it doesn’t. For some reason, that makes me a whole lot more anxious. What if I pass out, right here in this room, dead weight on the floor…in front of her? I don’t know if I could ever mentally recover from something like that.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh?—
A knock on the door interrupts my panic as the nurse walks into the room, greeting us with a smile and soft words that I don’t hear because my ears are ringing. I swallow thickly a few times as she sets up a tray, and I feel Maeve sliding her thumb across the back of my hand in encouragement. Jesus, she probably thinks I’m a child, reacting this way.
“Tate,” Maeve whispers in my ear, and I look over at her, blinking expectantly with a small hum.
“I asked if you were ready,” the nurse says softly, sitting in her swivel chair directly in front of us now.
When did she get there?
Clearing my throat, I nod unsteadily. “Y-yes.”
“Have you had bloodwork done before?”
“No,” I mumble. “I don’t think so. At least, I don’t think I have. I-I don’t remember.”
She inspects my arm for a moment, I suspect trying to find a viable vein, before she gives me a warm smile. “That’s okay. If you feel lightheaded at any point, just let me know. Okay?”
“Okay.”
