Perfect. She's fucking perfect.
Brick texts:
Ribs are fucked. Meet me at UNM?
The ribs I broke yesterday when he thought skimming was a good idea. Three quick shots to the side, enough to teach but not hospitalize. Except now he needs a hospital. Poetic.
Different hospital. Presbyterian's closer
Already here. Plus that sweet nurse from last time
UNM. Where she works. Universe is fucking with me now.
I’m there in a blur. The hospital is massive. She's in trauma. Brick needs the ER. Different departments. Safe distance. I keep telling myself this while my body goes through the motions of parking, walking, waiting.
Every nurse that passes makes me look. Pathetic. Like a dog waiting for its owner.
My phone buzzes.
Angel:You okay? You've been quiet
Angel. Lena. Angel who is Lena who is completely out of my fucking league.
At a hospital
Three dots immediately.
Angel:Are you hurt??
Angel:Which hospital
Angel:Diablo, answer me
The concern in her texts does something violent to my chest.
Not hurt. Here for a friend. Stop worrying
Angel:I'm a nurse. Worrying is literally 90% of my job
Thought saving lives was your job
Angel:That's maybe 10%. The other 90% is worrying, documenting the worrying, and preventing doctors from killing people with their egos
Fuck, she's funny.
Which hospital?
I look around. She could be here. Could walk past right now. Would I recognize her voice? Would she recognize my hands?
Presbyterian
The lie tastes like ash.
Angel:Good. UNM is a shitshow today. Three-car pileup plus a construction accident. I'm drowning in trauma
She's here. In this building. Probably covered in blood, exhausted, still making jokes while literally saving lives.
"Zane Quinn?" A nurse calls.
