mall with a little wave. I turn to the guy, but he looks like he’s about to come on my Mercedes. “Hey, dude. Are you going to walk with her? It’s fuckin’ L.A.” All I get is a blank look and slow blink. I knew it. No sooner do I say it when I hear the snickers and chuckles in the distance. I grab something from my trunk, before slamming it hard, making the guy flinch.
He watches me walk toward him with wide eyes. Finally, someone’s home in there. I don’t detour. I shoulder check him as hard as I can, making him stagger to the side slightly. Not nearly as hard as I wish. I’m a fucking skinny bitch. “Douchebag.”
“What did I do?” he asks incredulously. I extend my arm to point out the three guys heading straight for little Laurel. She’s got her hands in her hoodie, head down, walking as fast as she can. Not fast enough. I’m about twenty feet away when they circle her, forcing her to stop in her tracks.
They don’t get a word out before I’m screeching across the distance, “Hey!” Of course they leave her for me. I’m showing a lot more skin. I look like a drug addict. And they can’t see in the dark that I have a black aluminum bat behind my long legs.
No. I didn’t kill them. I didn’t even leave all of them unconscious. Just tapped those boys enough times for the douche to take Laurel back inside and sprint to my car. Sucks it’s so rare, but now I have to worry about thugs and things like retaliation.
It’s Sunday. That seems like a good day to go to the hospital right? I have no fucking clue. I tug the oversized button-down shirt that’s covering more skin than I’ve ever worn—unless it was lace or a cat suit. In the elevator, I feel like I can’t breathe, and tug at my collar again as the doors finally open.
I turn and follow the signs that say Oncology to a set of doors and a receptionist’s desk. “Hi, I was told to talk to Alyse. Is she around?”
The woman looks me up and down, and I realize her nametag says Alyse. She still hasn’t said anything.
“I got your name from Dr. Pentir. If this is a bad time . . .” I trail off awkwardly.
“No. Are you here to volunteer?”
I nod my head before my brain catches up. Volunteer? To what?
“Well, I’ll tell you Sunday is his day. If you want to go in there and get anyone to talk to you, I would suggest you change, or come back a different day,” she says in warning.
“Why?” I ask bluntly.
She gets up, her baby blue scrubs and little stethoscope proclaiming her a nurse of some kind. I follow her over to the doors that don’t open unless you push the big red button on the wall and we stand close to the tiny elongated windows. She nods her head a little bit. “That’s why.”
I look in the small slice of room afforded by the vertical window and my world narrows onto that slit. I feel a single minded attention that I haven’t ever felt outside of singing. There are children everywhere. All wearing tiny hospital gowns. Some bald, a lot of them attached to IV poles, but their undivided attention is on one thing. Him. I don’t know what he looks like beyond the most perfect teeth I’ve ever seen. Even from across the room I can see that he’s got a million dollar smile.
His talking is animated, like he’s telling a story. He gestures wide with his arms, and I feel my stomach melt. He’s even got a cape. I train my eyes on those grey ones I can see through his mask. He looks up in that second, his face stripping entirely of emotion until he looks chiseled in stone.
My screwed-up head immediately goes to another bat-like creature. The one with his wires crossed. The one that was unpredictable.
“Hello, Batty,” I whisper, fogging the glass and breaking my focus. I turn to pace and almost run into Alyse. “So the kids won’t accept me because he’s Batman, right?”
“Exactly.” She nods as
He watches me walk toward him with wide eyes. Finally, someone’s home in there. I don’t detour. I shoulder check him as hard as I can, making him stagger to the side slightly. Not nearly as hard as I wish. I’m a fucking skinny bitch. “Douchebag.”
“What did I do?” he asks incredulously. I extend my arm to point out the three guys heading straight for little Laurel. She’s got her hands in her hoodie, head down, walking as fast as she can. Not fast enough. I’m about twenty feet away when they circle her, forcing her to stop in her tracks.
They don’t get a word out before I’m screeching across the distance, “Hey!” Of course they leave her for me. I’m showing a lot more skin. I look like a drug addict. And they can’t see in the dark that I have a black aluminum bat behind my long legs.
No. I didn’t kill them. I didn’t even leave all of them unconscious. Just tapped those boys enough times for the douche to take Laurel back inside and sprint to my car. Sucks it’s so rare, but now I have to worry about thugs and things like retaliation.
It’s Sunday. That seems like a good day to go to the hospital right? I have no fucking clue. I tug the oversized button-down shirt that’s covering more skin than I’ve ever worn—unless it was lace or a cat suit. In the elevator, I feel like I can’t breathe, and tug at my collar again as the doors finally open.
I turn and follow the signs that say Oncology to a set of doors and a receptionist’s desk. “Hi, I was told to talk to Alyse. Is she around?”
The woman looks me up and down, and I realize her nametag says Alyse. She still hasn’t said anything.
“I got your name from Dr. Pentir. If this is a bad time . . .” I trail off awkwardly.
“No. Are you here to volunteer?”
I nod my head before my brain catches up. Volunteer? To what?
“Well, I’ll tell you Sunday is his day. If you want to go in there and get anyone to talk to you, I would suggest you change, or come back a different day,” she says in warning.
“Why?” I ask bluntly.
She gets up, her baby blue scrubs and little stethoscope proclaiming her a nurse of some kind. I follow her over to the doors that don’t open unless you push the big red button on the wall and we stand close to the tiny elongated windows. She nods her head a little bit. “That’s why.”
I look in the small slice of room afforded by the vertical window and my world narrows onto that slit. I feel a single minded attention that I haven’t ever felt outside of singing. There are children everywhere. All wearing tiny hospital gowns. Some bald, a lot of them attached to IV poles, but their undivided attention is on one thing. Him. I don’t know what he looks like beyond the most perfect teeth I’ve ever seen. Even from across the room I can see that he’s got a million dollar smile.
His talking is animated, like he’s telling a story. He gestures wide with his arms, and I feel my stomach melt. He’s even got a cape. I train my eyes on those grey ones I can see through his mask. He looks up in that second, his face stripping entirely of emotion until he looks chiseled in stone.
My screwed-up head immediately goes to another bat-like creature. The one with his wires crossed. The one that was unpredictable.
“Hello, Batty,” I whisper, fogging the glass and breaking my focus. I turn to pace and almost run into Alyse. “So the kids won’t accept me because he’s Batman, right?”
“Exactly.” She nods as
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