Just a Little Flirt

by Renita Pizzitola

  Hmm, should we discuss my decision to party instead of study…probably not. “College is hard.”

  “It is. But there’s always tutoring and other campus resources to help you. I know I’m pretty ancient in your mind, but you are attending my alma mater, things haven’t changed that much over the years. In fact, they’ve probably only gotten better. It’s a great campus. They have the resources to help you.”

  “I know, Dad. It’s just been an adjustment.” I leaned against the wall and sighed. “I’m going to do better.”

  “To tell you the truth, I didn’t do too hot my freshman year of college either. With no one looking over your shoulder, it’s easy to let your work slide. But high school was just prep for college. This is the real deal. This is the beginning of the rest of your life.”

  Well, shit, when he put it that way…“I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t apologize to me. This is your life. But I don’t want to see you fail out of college. You can always come home. Heck, I miss having you around and I worry about you being so far from home. I wouldn’t really mind. But I don’t think that’s what you truly want,” he said.

  God, no. That was the last thing I wanted. Originally, I’d chosen an out-of-state university to experience something different—well, that, and I looked up to my dad. The stories he told from his college days here at Sutton made me want to have this to share with him. But now that I’d escaped my hometown of Brighton, I had no desire to go back. I didn’t want to be the girl I’d left there. Here I was able to reinvent myself. Having no past was liberating. “No, I’m happy here. I don’t want to move home.”

  “Okay, let’s make an agreement. You bring those grades up next semester and we can keep this between you and me for now. Your mom doesn’t need to know about this just yet. Not because we’re lying to her or anything.” He cleared his throat, like he always did when we had one of our don’t-tell-your-mom moments. “But because I know it’s just a temporary situation that you plan on fixing. Right, short stack?”

  My shoulders relaxed once he used my nickname. Granted, it was a dumb one—though accurate considering I was the only person in my family who wasn’t tall—but Dad refused to stop calling me it. And I loved him for it. To him, it didn’t seem to matter that I was an adult. The nickname was timeless and hearing it felt like home…at least the part of home I missed.

  “Yeah, Dad. I’m already taking things more seriously. Like this internship. And I’ll work on my grades. I’ll do better for you next semester. I promise.”

  “Not for me, kiddo. For you.”

  “For both of us.”

  “I’d like that.”

  I seriously loved my dad. If only Mom was half as understanding. I was so grateful she wouldn’t know about my near failing grades since she was a bit of a control freak. Dad claimed she only wanted a better life for us, though I had no idea what that even meant. He, on the other hand, embraced real life, imperfections and all.

  “Everything else going good?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I had orientation today. I think I’m really going to enjoy the internship.”

  “That’s great. Well, I hear your mom pulling into the driveway. Call me if you need anything. And I’ll put a little extra money in your account for your internship. You know, for lunches, clothes, whatever you might need.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Dad, but thanks.” I totally needed the extra cash, but felt bad. He already did too much for me, and here I was blowing it all on partying while bombing my classes.

  “I know, but I want to. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Come fall, I’d approach school with a new attitude. I wasn’t an idiot. I’d seen my grades too. I knew my future rode on the choices I’d be making over the next few months and had already planned to work harder. It was just a matter of finding the right balance since I had no plans to give up the fun stuff altogether. I just had to find a way to get everything to coexist. Anyway, it wasn’t like I’d always been this irresponsible. Some of that girl I’d left behind in high school had to be dormant inside me. Of course, I wasn’t interested in letting all of her resurface, but a little of the old me couldn’t hurt, not that everyone else had to know about my plan to succeed. As far as they knew, I’d still be the girl without a care. I preferred that image. It kept everyone at just enough distance to keep me in my comfort zone.

  My little pep talk renewed my confidence as I pushed open my apartment door and locked it behind me.

  “How was your first day?” Brinley asked from the kitchen.

  “Great, until some guy tore my shirt open.” I tossed my bag onto the kitchen table.

  She paused, a butter knife in one hand, peanut butter jar in the other. Her gaze darted to my shirt then back to my face. “Are you okay?”

  I stepped into the kitchen and hoisted myself onto the counter. “Yeah. Just having shitty luck today.”

  “What happened?” She turned back to her sandwich. “Want one?” She gestured to the loaf of bread.

  “Sure.”

  She grabbed another plate.

  “So I was hauling ass up the stairs and ran into some guy. His watch or something snagged my shirt, taking the button right off.”

  “You’re kidding?” She glanced at me, a tiny grin tugging at her lips.

  “He was hot too.” She handed me a plate and I thanked her. “His arms were crazy sexy and any other time or place, he could rip all the buttons off my shirt.”

  She laughed and took a bite. “So where’d you get that shirt?” She gestured to my oversized white tee.

  “It’s his.”

  Her blue eyes widened. “Spill.” She sat on the counter across from me.

  I took a bite to avoid smiling at the memory. With a mouthful of peanut butter sandwich, I recounted the event.

  Brinley pressed her hand to her chest. “Aw, that’s so sweet.”

  It was sweet, but I didn’t really do sweet. And I’d never admit to Brinley how much his gesture had made me swoon.

  With another bite, I shrugged. “His shirt smells like fuck me.”

  She choked on her sandwich. “Like what?”

  “Hot. Sexy. Like a calling card for one hell of a night in bed.”

  Grinning, she shook her head. “Only you could describe it so poetically.”

  “What can I say, I’m a romantic.” I popped the last of my sandwich into my mouth, hopped off the counter and placed my plate in the sink.

  “So does he work at the hospital?”

  “I think he was just visiting. He wasn’t wearing a badge or dressed in scrubs or anything.”

  She frowned, clearly disappointed I wouldn’t have any more sexy run-ins. “Other than the wardrobe malfunction, how was orientation?”

  “Pretty good. They have a part-time paid position opening in the fall. They plan to hire an intern to fill it.”

  She slid off the counter. “That’s great.”

  I shrugged, totally in agreement, but convinced it was bad luck to talk about things like that.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “That’s Ryder.” Her entire face lit up at just the mention of her boyfriend’s name.

  Seeing them together almost made me want to try the relationship thing. Almost.

  I grabbed my stuff off the table as she opened the door. Ryder’s arms slipped around Brinley’s waist and he planted a kiss on her forehead as they greeted each other.

  “Hey, Fallon,” Ryder said as Brinley led him into the kitchen.

  “Hey.” He’d become a permanent fixture around here, but I still figured they wanted their alone time. “Okay, well I’m going to try on these scrubs.” I waved a plastic bag. “Let’s hope shit-brown is my color.”

  Ryder’s mouth quirked up and Brinley laughed.

  Once in my room, I peeled off Sexy Arms’ shirt and placed it on my dresser. Then I slipped out of my pants and pulled on the scrubs. I stared in the full-length mirror and frowned.

&n
bsp; What. The. Hell?

  I checked the size on the bag again. Small. I twisted the scrub top to check the tag. It was correct. So why in the world had my body been swallowed up?

  I opened my door and yelled out, “Brinley…I think I lost something.”

  “What’s up?” She appeared in my doorway, casually leaning on the frame, but her gaze immediately went to my outfit. “Oh my God, those are huge.”

  “Yeah. I think I lost my boobs. They used to be somewhere in this general region.” I motioned to my chest. “But now they appear to have vanished along with the rest of my body.”

  She placed her hand over her mouth, attempting to hide her grin. “Um, it’s not so bad?”

  I stared at her. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure a garbage bag would be more flattering.” Grabbing the sides of the shirt, I extended it to its full width, accentuating the ginormity. “This is a small. A small.” I flapped the sides.

  Ryder appeared behind Brinley. His eyebrows pushed together as he took in my outfit.

  “Maybe they are mis-sized,” Brinley suggested.

  “I think scrubs are unisex,” Ryder offered. “Which makes that equivalent to a guy’s small. Which is a whole lot bigger than a girl’s small.”

  Why hadn’t I thought of that? Of course the table of scrubs hadn’t been divided by gender. Dammit. I smacked my forehead. “I have three freaking pairs in this size. I can try to exchange the other two but I need one to wear tomorrow.”

  “Well, at least you aren’t trying to impress anyone.” Brinley grinned. “Unless, of course, Mr. Fuck Me Shirt is still visiting.”

  Ryder glanced between us. “I don’t even think I want to know.”

  Brinley and I looked at each other then burst into laughter.

  She patted his chest. “Probably not. Come on.”

  I turned back to the mirror. At least while dressed like this I didn’t have to worry about getting hit on.

  Chapter 3

  The next day, outfitted in my ridiculously oversized scrubs, I headed to the third floor. My first stop would be Victoria’s office to inquire about new scrubs. Of course, some tiny part of me was on the lookout for Sexy Arms. I’d brushed off Brinley’s comment, but she’d raised a good point. If he had a hospitalized family member, chances were he would be here again today. Though the odds of running into him were unlikely.

  Victoria’s door stood ajar but I knocked as a courtesy.

  “Come in,” she called from inside her office.

  I stepped over the threshold as she glanced up from her computer.

  “Fallon.” She slipped black-rimmed glasses off her face and leaned back in her chair. With a smile, she asked, “What can I do for you today?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but is there any way to trade my scrubs for a smaller size?”

  Her gaze drifted to my oversized top and she chuckled. “Oh dear. We definitely need to find you smaller ones, don’t we. You are downright lost in those things.”

  She lifted her phone and typed a message. “I’m going to let Amy know you need to change them out. She’s one of the Child Life aides. She can get you some smaller scrubs.”

  “I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem.” Victoria slipped her glasses back on. “I have some paperwork to finish up but I will drop by the playroom later. In the meantime, Amy will show you around. She’ll meet you in the break room, just past the playroom on your left.”

  I thanked her then made my way to the break room. I glanced in the large window of the playroom as I passed. It looked empty, then I realized there were lots of children, but they’d all gathered in an area just past the playroom known as the park. We’d learned during orientation, or in my case from the orientation packet, they occasionally had musical guests and whatnot in the park on set times and days. It must have been one of those days.

  The break room door was wide open and inside stood Lindsey, the shy intern, with another girl wearing scrubs in a much lighter shade of brown than mine and Lindsey’s. The specialists all wore khakis and a polo, but the aides wore scrubs like the interns, meaning this must be Amy.

  “Hi, Amy?”

  Her hair was the kind of red that could only be achieved with the help of a salon, and cut into a cute bob which was slightly longer in the front. It framed her face perfectly and accentuated very blue eyes. “That’s me. Fallon, I presume?” She smiled and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Hi, Lindsey.” I waved and she smiled back then dropped her head, letting her hair cover most of her face.

  “Victoria told me you needed to exchange your scrubs.”

  “Yeah, they’re kind of big.”

  Amy laughed. “I’d say. No problem, but first I thought I’d give you a quick tour of the playroom then let you and Lindsey do a little observation. We’d like for you to spend a day observing the specialist’s interactions with the children and families, along with the general role of an aide. It helps to just get a feel of what the day is like. And now is a great time. Kids come and go from the room at their leisure, but right now we have Scout visiting. He tends to draw a crowd.”

  One wall of the break room consisted of lockers. She popped one open at the top. “I’m assigning you locker number three. You can bring a lock and store stuff during your shift, but you’ll share lockers with interns on different rotations so leave it emptied and unlocked when you clock out. Of course, if you don’t plan to put any valuables in it, you don’t have to lock it. Your choice.”

  Today I hadn’t brought anything except my keys, phone and some cash, which I’d shoved in my front shirt pocket. “I don’t have anything to store right now.”

  “Okay, we’ll leave those here.” She gestured to the packaged scrubs I’d brought back. “And I’ll exchange them later.”

  “Thanks.” I shoved the plastic bag in the small locker.

  “Okay then, follow me.” She led us back to the playroom. “Michelle is the Child Life specialist working today along with Oscar, who is an aide, and myself.” She opened the door and approached a guy, who looked to be in his mid-twenties and only slightly taller than me. His wavy black hair was shaggy and curled a bit around his ears.

  “Oscar, this is Lindsey, and Fallon.”

  He set down a jar of finger paint and shook each of our hands. “Nice to meet you. We’ve got the Scout show going on in the park, so I figured I’d use this time to reorganize a bit.” He nodded over his shoulder to the children gathered in the adjacent room, then back at a shelf filled with art supplies.

  Amy laughed. “Yeah, we can’t really compete with them.”

  I peered through the crowd trying to figure out what the show entailed. I didn’t hear music, just happy kid sounds. Then, through a small gap that had formed, I saw a wag of a golden-colored tail.

  “A dog?” I asked.

  “Yep.” Amy nodded with a smile. She motioned for us to follow her through a small door leading to the park. “Scout is a therapy dog and the kids absolutely adore him.”

  The park was completely indoors but had artificial trees, benches and even little sidewalks with red wagons. It had room to run around, or just sit back and relax. It was really a cute area and much more spacious than the playroom. I noticed a placard on the wall near the entrance: Ryan’s Park, In Memory—I quickly looked away, saddened by the possibility that some family helped create this room in memory of a son who could no longer play in it.

  A red ball rolled past the crowd and a few children scampered back to catch it, opening a clear path straight to the dog and a guy in a dark T-shirt and jeans. His head was tucked down as he spoke to one of the kids.

  “And that’s Scout’s handler, Cade.”

  He looked up just then, as if he’d heard his name, and it was like being knocked in the gut all over again. Mr. Sexy Arms stared right at me. And apparently he had a name. Cade.

  His gaze dropped to my lips.

  Oh God. Did I just mouth his name? What was wrong with me? />
  A smile arched across Cade’s face. Scout sat up and nudged him under the chin. Cade glanced down and ruffled the fur along the top of his head.

  I looked away and focused on Amy. She briefly explained which activities were held in the park. Then motioned to a small table in the corner.

  “You can sit here to observe. When Michelle has a moment she will come introduce herself. In the meantime, Oscar can answer your questions. By the time I get back, Scout should be finishing his visit and you’ll have an opportunity to see more playroom interactions.”

  Scout and Cade were leaving soon? That made me sad and relieved. I’d gone from undressed to oversized-dressed, and it’d be nice if, for once, I could make a slightly less embarrassing impression with Cade.

  Lindsey and I settled into the small table and she pulled out a notebook. I didn’t even have a pen. She glanced at me and smiled.

  With a quick flip of her notebook, she tore free a few pages then slid them in front of me. “Oscar probably has something you can write with.”

  “Thanks,” I said sheepishly.

  “No problem.” She focused on the kids, and rested her chin in her palm. “He’s pretty cute.”

  My head snapped up and I stared at her, a tiny zing of jealousy getting the better of me. After all, I had his shirt, shouldn’t that give me some kind of dibs on the guy?

  Her gaze swept in my direction. “Do you think he’s a golden retriever? Maybe a yellow Lab?”

  “The dog,” I blurted. Heat crept up my neck.

  She grinned and whispered. “Yes, the dog. His handler isn’t cute.” Her gaze shifted to Cade, her eyebrows pushed together. “I’d say he’s more along the lines of gorgeous.”

  I covered my mouth to stifle the laugh, then cleared my throat. I lowered my voice and smiled at her. “Definitely.”

  She tapped her pen against her chin and studied Cade. “How old do you think—” She straightened in her chair, then tucked her head down, letting her hair fall forward. “He’s coming this way,” she mumbled.