She’s like a regular intern ... who I also know inside and out.
“Um, so what exactly should we start with?” I ask. She probably realizes the route I’m taking and quickly gets on board.
“I know morning feedings, I’ve never done an evening shift before, though.” At that, I walk her through our whole schedule. I rattle off everything she’s supposed to do, pointing to things at lightning speed. I hurry her along, wanting to get through things as fast as I can, pushing back and buryingevery single emotion she makes me feel.
Professional, nothing personal.Yeah, I got this.
I take the route that’ll have us pass the vet’s office, for what reason I’ll never admit, even though it’s the longest way to get to the kennel. Putting my hand under the sanitizer dispenser, I slow as I know she probably stopped in front of the window, looking into the clinic. And, I know I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t.
I look back, and true to what I assumed, she’s standing in front of the window, a hand pressed against the glass. I take these few seconds to look at her. Even in a T-shirt and jeans, she still wins the prize for being the girl who takes my breath away. Even after five years, you would think these feelings had diminished, positively dulled.
I walk back, rubbing my hands, as one of the nurses holds a cute little golden dachshund.
“Bruno,” I state. She flinches slightly as I appear next to her, looking through the window too. “Found him while I was jogging around my neighborhood.” I barely glance at her and clear my throat. “He has a fractured leg and was limping for who knows how long. So, I brought him here.”
I keep looking ahead, not wanting to fall into old habits. Though, as always, I cave. Turning around to face her, she flicks her eyes toward mine, and I’m drowning in the different saturations of blue. I probably sound like a broken record, but she’s changed more than I ever thought.
She’s different,and I’m a fool to think that maybe after all these years, everything would be what it once was. It would be so much easier if I hung on to the sadness I’ve had this whole time. Yet, when her eyes connect with mine, it simply fades away. But I need to stop.
What we had is gone, we’re basically strangers now.
“I always thought if I had a dog, I’d name him Bruno,” she whispers.
“From your favorite movie,Cinderella,” I finish. Something stirs in me, before I clear my throat, avoiding it. The chipped paint on the wall becomes more interesting.
She whispers, shock evident in her tone, “I haven’t watched that in so long. How do you even—”
I shake my head, a noncommittal shrug. “You seem to forget that we watched the movie almost every time we hung out.”
So much for being professional.
I tilt my head to one side, motioning for her to follow me as we continue with the tour. After another half an hour of showing the most trivial things possible, we stop at the kennels. I keep my back to her as I smile, hearing her blowing a couple of kisses to some of the dogs.
A cough later, I ask, “Alright, you got everything?” The air conditioning kicks on, the rumble of it filling the awkward silence between us.
I focus on her as she rubs her arms and mumbles, “Uh-huh.”
I look at the motion, my stupid heart wanting to give her my hoodie, hell—the damn shirt off my back.
“Bring a jacket next time.” She moves toward the supply closet, looking over at the clock, and I realize it’s time for the last walks of the day. My eyes follow her movements for a bit before I sigh and walk off, just like that. She smiles brightly at the other volunteers, and I push open the door, hating how much I missed that simple gesture.
It’s been a few hours, and I’m almost done with cleaning the kennels. I toss down the brush, seeing my wrinkled fingers, and my music starts to fade out. A bead of sweat starts on my brow and I raise my shirt to wipe it off.
The dogs are currently being walked when Bianca suddenly shouts, “Coming out!”
My heart stops as the last one to be taken out is Zorro, our most aggressive and volatile dog. The only volunteer that can really go near him would either be me or Micheal, but that’s definitely not his voice. My eyes widen and I sprint as quickly as I can outside. Yells and gasps fill the open space, amplifying the surefire heart attack I’m about to have.
Please, please don’t get hurt. Please.
My heart’s beating a mile a minute and I’m taking short bursts of breath, wanting to get there before anything happens.
I push open the door leading outside and watch in slow motion as Zorro snaps at her, then roughly drags her as she struggles to disentangle herself from the leash. He goes after a squirrel, and I rush toward them, but am too late when a piece of the fence wiring thatIwas supposed to fix today cuts the skin on her arm.
A ringing starts in my ears, her shouting reverberating as the blood starts to flow out of the wound.
Grabbing Zorro’s leash before he can continue dragging her, I yell for someone to take him from me. At once, someone comes and takes him as he pulls against his collar, wanting to get back to his chase, not knowing what he did.
Bianca exhales shakily, whimpering once again as tears well in her eyes. My heart breaks and disgust fills me when I see the stupid wire hanging out.
