“Yeah? What kind of stuff?”
I flushed, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. Talking about my hobbies always made me feel awkward, as if I were admitting something childish. “Mostly women’s fiction. Some fantasy. Occasionally, a thriller if I’m feeling brave.”
“That’s awesome,” he said. The way he said "awesome"made it sound like he actually meant it, and I relaxed a little. Tyler was my friend. He was in the Flossy Posse group chat with me. I didn’t need to be nervous around him. But for some reason, talking at work felt different from talking at the bar after work over food and drinks. It wasn’t Tyler—I knew it had more to do with my anxiety surrounding the office than anything. It was just hard to fully relax here.
I felt like a gazelle out in the wild, the fear of a predator able to pounce at any moment. The break room was a watering hole of sorts, and if I let my guard down, would the apex predator descend?
“What about you?” I asked, nudging the conversation in a different direction while simultaneously pushing away images of lion documentaries from my mind. “What doyou do when you’re not here at the office? You said you’re studying to be a nurse?”
He nodded, swallowing another bite of granola before continuing. “Yeah, I’m taking my undergraduate classes right now.”
“And what about when you’re not doing school?”
“I snowboard a bit. And I play guitar.”
My eyes widened. “Really? Like, actually play? OrI-once-learned-a-Jack-Johnson-song-for-a-girl-on-YouTubeplay?”
He laughed at that, and I found myself smiling.
“I actually play. But I’m curious now if that comment has a personal story attached.”
“Let’s just say I can’t listen toBanana Pancakesanymore.”
“Noted,” he grinned. “Sometimes I’ll do a little gig at a bar downtown or at a restaurant.”
I perked up. “You’ll have to let me know next time you play. I’d love to listen.”
Something flickered across his face—surprise, then something softer. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”
“Are you telling girls about your little band again?” Macey announced as she suddenly appeared out of nowhere, making me jump a little.
Not the apex predator, Hope.Relax.
Tyler groaned. “It’s not a little band. It’s just me.”
“Exactly,” Macey said, dropping into the seat across from us. “Just you. Hence… little.”
I snorted, and Tyler shot me a faux-offended look that only made me laugh harder.
“You really should go see him, though,” Macey said as she ripped open her bag of carrots and celery and began munching. “He’s good at writing songs. Annoyingly good.”
Tyler nudged me gently with his shoulder. “You’d appreciate it more than she does. You actually like the written word.”
“I’d love to hear them,” I said.
Macey pouted. “I wish I liked reading. I find it boring.”
“She’s a ‘movie is better’ kind of girl,” Tyler said, giving me a pointed look. “She can’t be trusted.”
“Oh, please,” Macey rolled her eyes. “Some of us like visual storytelling, Tyler.”
I chuckled, and we continued to chat throughout the lunch hour. Jenn and Erica came in at one point and joined the conversation. I hadn't yet made a strong connection with them, but they were both really nice and helped a lot when they assisted.
Soon, though, it was time for my next patient, and I had to leave the group to get ready. As I was setting up, I thought I might get through the entire day without a hitch.
Four o’clock hit, and a woman named Rachel Woods came in. She was thirty-three, with her only medical alert being a sulfa drug allergy.
Erica brought her back after snapping some X-rays, and she seemed like a very nice woman. After exchanging pleasantries, I leaned her back in the chair and began cleaning. It was an SRP, as they called it—scaling and root planing—which was a little more intense than your average clean for a healthy patient. I had to numb her before doing the deeper cleaning, and Rachel took the inferior alveolar nerve block like a champ.
