Faker - Sarah Smith Page 0,43
natural reactions.”
“Thanks for the play-by-play.” I turn away, hoping he can’t see my face.
With gentle fingertips, he turns my face to his. I crumble at his touch.
“I’m scared,” I whisper. A lump hits the back of my throat.
“It’s okay. I’m here.”
I scoot closer and press my cheek against his palm. I zero in on the thickness of his skin, and how it soothes me.
Soon I’m wheeled out of the room to the elevator. By the time I make it to pre-op, Tate is there waiting for me. He sits in the only chair in the space, and just like he did in my hospital room, he scoots it as close as he can to the bed to be near me.
A clown car of medical staff filters into my room to check my vitals and explain the procedure. Then a late-twenties man with short dark hair steps in.
He smiles politely and gives me a quick wave. “Hi, Emmie. I’m Brendan, the resident who will be operating on you with Dr. Tran.”
At first I think it’s strange that he doesn’t call himself doctor, but then Tate stands up to shake his hand.
“We’re old friends,” Tate says, patting him on the back.
“Oh.” The seconds-long way I respond makes me sound like I’m living in slow motion. Pain meds have quite the relaxing effect on my vocal cords.
Brendan chuckles. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, but we’ll fix you right up.”
He stands in place for a moment without saying anything. He raises an eyebrow at Tate, then smiles. Tate shakes his head as Brendan leaves the room. I wonder what that silent exchange was about.
“Do you know everyone?”
He sits back down, grinning wide. There’s a burst of joy in my chest at getting him to smile so big.
“Very funny. We go way back.”
“That knowing look between the two of you just now. Don’t think I didn’t notice it.”
His feet shuffle between the chair legs. “I texted him yesterday to let him know that I was at his hospital with you. He tried calling me during his break last night, but I didn’t answer. I think he was amused to see I was still here.”
“You mean you don’t spend all your free nights at the hospital cuddling with random women?”
“You’re hardly random.” He gazes up at me, exhaustion detectable in every feature of his face. Even when they’re fatigued, his eyes are powerful enough to floor me. If I look too long, I start to feel stripped down.
I divert my gaze to the morphine button.
“Careful with that,” he says. “No overdosing on my watch.”
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to. There’s a limit programmed into it. It locks up after that.”
I contemplate pressing it again but hold off. Noises from behind the closed curtain fill our silence. There’s a faint beeping from an unknown medical machine as well as a steady stream of squeaky footsteps. I count the loud ticks from the clock on the wall. Only minutes until I’m sliced and diced.
“Tell me about Hawaii.” His soft voice interrupts the background noise.
“Why?” I’m surprised at his odd request.
“You seem like you could use a distraction.”
The cynic inside of me is uncertain. He’s asked me about Hawaii before, but always in a way I didn’t fully trust. I don’t want to indulge him if his plan is to just make fun of me.
“Or maybe you just want more things to tease me about.”
He shakes his head, clearly annoyed. “No, of course not. I want to know.” He closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, he seems sincere. “I swear I won’t. I honestly want to hear about your life there.”
I swallow, the inside of my mouth grainy with dryness.
“Please?” His eyes sparkle with anticipation. The genuine kindness in his voice melts me.
“Fine.” I try to sound unfazed. “I grew up on the Big Island.”
“Where exactly?”
“Kona side. Kailua, specifically.”
“Did you go to the beach every day?”
“That’s the first question everyone asks me. Not every day. Probably every other day.”
“Sounds amazing.”
“It was. Sunny almost every single day. A few rainy days here and there. Sometimes we’d have an off year where winter was rainy, but it never lasted longer than a week or so.” I mark “winter” with air quotes since there is no such thing as winter in Hawaii, only more rain.
“What are the beaches like?” He scoots his chair closer to the bed until his knees touch the edge.
“Beautiful, but rockier than you’d think. Especially on the Hilo side.”
“That’s the eastern part