The Anatomy of Perception

by AJ Rose

  “I knew it! Were you a trapeze artist?”

  “No, I was a clown.”

  She gave me a droll look, then we both shuddered. “Gross.”

  Dr. Kingsley strode up and we snapped to, giving our full attention to Mr. Richards’s case. He had a flurry of tests to endure before his tumor could be removed, so for the next few hours we were his cruise directors. He would likely go into surgery well after our shift, but just in case he went in early, I’d put Craig on notice that either Sabrina or I would get picked to scrub in, which would detonate our plans. I didn’t know which to hope for. Surgery would save me coming clean, but then I’d still have to do it later and would have more time to get worked up about it.

  Dr. Kingsley wanted before and after levels of Richards’s alpha-fetoprotein so we could be sure once the tumor was gone, the cancer was too. The CT Scan from the previous day hadn’t shown any spread to other organs, but we wouldn’t know for sure until we were in there and could see for ourselves. Thinking about the prep helped keep me calm.

  “You okay?” Sabrina murmured as we walked to the lab for the latest test.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You’re jittery today. Are you nervous about tonight? Don’t be. I’m sure I’ll love Cee. She has to be awesome if you’re so head over heels for her. I haven’t even caught you looking at my ass in the locker room.”

  “Stop trying to get me to look at your ass. It’s creepy.”

  She grinned. “Can’t help it. You’ve become a challenge.”

  And after tonight you’ll know why. “Whatever. Like you’re even giving the other interns a chance at your ass. You’ve got your sights set on Dr. Kidd.”

  “I know, right?” She sighed dreamily. “How perfect is it that he’s a pediatrician and his last name is Kidd?”

  I snorted. “You’re a dork. Anything about him is perfect to you.” To be fair, the man was hot. He was good with his patients and because of that, every female intern’s ovaries had exploded in one way or another as they’d rotated through his service. “Too bad he’s got a girlfriend.”

  “Oh, I heard he’s got a boyfriend.”

  I coughed. “What?”

  “Yeah, you know that scrub nurse, Kelly something-or-other?”

  Oh yes. I knew Kelly. Even with only his eyes visible between his scrub cap and face mask in surgery, he was beautiful in that model-pretty kind of way even straight men could appreciate. He belonged on a Calvin Klein billboard. I’d caught a couple curious looks from him a time or two when I’d been let into the OR to observe. He was one of Dr. Kingsley’s favorite scrub nurses. My slowly developing gaydar pinged loud and clear when I saw him.

  “No way. You think Dr. Kidd is doing Kelly Parrish?”

  “More than doing,” she said, going into full gossip mode. “Apparently they live together.”

  “Huh,” I said intelligently, then hesitated. “What do you think of that?”

  Sabrina handed the vial of blood to the lab tech with the orders for which test to perform and then turned to me, her hands shoved in her white coat pockets. She gave me a funny look, then grabbed my elbow and pulled me into the alcove with the vending machines, where we’d sat together our first day. It was clear from the way she assessed our surroundings she didn’t want to be overheard. I really hoped she wasn’t about to go on a rant about how disgusting she found gay people, and I wouldn’t have to plaster on a fake smile and figure out a way to cancel her ever meeting Craig.

  “I’ve always thought two guys together is hot,” she whispered like she was divulging secrets for which the NSA would hang her. “In college, I had these guy friends who were a couple. They were a little on the kinky side, and they liked to get it on in public.” My jaw dropped, but she grinned wickedly and waved off my astonishment. “Well, semi-public. They liked the threat of getting caught, so they’d take me out with them to Boystown in Chicago, to this club called Hardwired. We’d have a few drinks, dance, and get all hot and bothered because that place was heaving with people and everyone rubbed up on everyone else. They’d pass the point of no return, find a shadowy corner or an alcove by the bathrooms, and go at it with me as the lookout. I swear I spent more time watching them than I ever did watching for bouncers looking to throw people out. Besides, they weren’t the only ones overcome by the need. Once, they let me join them. A walk on the wild side, they said. Nothing hotter than two guys together, lemme tell ya.”

  I stared at her, fascinated, not because she spoke of a world I’d seen in some of the bars in New York, but because she was clearly a straight girl—flirting with Carrie notwithstanding—and fantasies of two men together did things to her. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone with the memory until she realized I hadn’t spoken. Hiding her face, she showed an uncharacteristic moment of uncertainty and self-consciousness.

  “Say something,” she said quietly. “I mean, I know you’re this put-together, kind-of-quiet guy who doesn’t say a lot about your personal life and are so stupid in love with your girlfriend the rest of us sort of hate you and want what you have at the same time, but if you’re judging me now, I’d like to know so I can stomp off in righteous anger and spend the next few weeks glaring at you.”

  I chuckled. “I’m not judging you. I’m surprised, that’s all. I don’t really know what else to say. I’ve never met someone like you. I haven’t even got the language to ask questions about it.”

  She got a wicked glint to her eyes. “If I hadn’t gotten into med school, I planned to learn how to film gay porn so I could watch it all I wanted, live and in person.” Dropping quarters into the drink machine, she extracted a bottle of water and twisted off the cap.

  I snorted. That was so like Sabrina to shock people into laughing even if they were slightly appalled and thunderstruck. But this admission of hers felt big, and for once, I had a way to shock her back.

  “His name is Craig.”

  “What?” She dribbled water down her chin, wiping her sleeve over her mouth.

  “Cee. His name is Craig.” She blinked, opened her mouth to say something, closed it, then tried again. But no sound came out. I adopted a smug face and winked at her, going on. “He’s got sort of messy brown hair, brown eyes you can get lost in, and a smile I want to kiss off his face every time I see it. Everybody loves him because he’s charming and makes you feel important. Sometimes I still can’t believe he chose me.”

  “Do you have a picture?” She pulled me to the couch and sat.

  I dug out my phone and scrolled to a couple shots I’d taken the week before when we’d spent my day off at the Museum of Modern Art. Finding a good one, I tilted the screen so she could see it.

  “This is Cee?” She took the phone from me and held it close to her face. “He’s really cute. How long have you been together?” She already knew how long, but not the real details, so I indulged her, feeling free about my private life for a change.

  “We met in 2005, sort of. We bumped into each other once, and he started drawing my face all over Manhattan. A couple other times, he saw me out with friends, and in a few days, there’d be another chalk drawing. About six months later, he did one practically on the doorsteps of the NYU School of Medicine and I was mortified. You know how brutal med school was. They were ruthless. But that time, Craig stuck around to see my reaction. When he realized it wasn’t what he’d hoped for, he agreed to remove it. I took him for coffee first.”

  She looked horrified. “He erased it?”

  I shook my head. “Not until after he took pictures to get credit from his professors. And I also took pictures of the ones I’d removed before that, but those are on a really old cell phone. We’ve been together since that day. Almost four years.”

  She seemed satisfied with that, passing my phone back to me. “You going to marry him?”

  I frowned. “I can’t.”

  “Yet,” she countered, bumping my shoulder with hers.

  “I’m not going to another state to do it when it won�
�t be seen as legitimate here.”

  “Have a little faith,” she encouraged, grabbing her forgotten water bottle from the floor by her feet. “Do you need other people to see it as legit for it to mean something to the two of you?”

  Yes. I’m not going to risk my dad finding Craig if the cops won’t protect us from him because our relationship isn’t real to them.

  My face went stoic, and she frowned. “There it is. I pushed too hard. I wondered how long until you’d shut down. Fine, fine, I’ll back off. But I still get to meet him tonight, right?”

  I gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I’m not used to people being cool with it, so I don’t usually talk about it. A lot of questions make me nervous. And yes, we’re still on for tonight. Unless Mr. Richards goes into surgery early and one of us gets to scrub in.”

  “If that happens to me, I’ll give my spot to Carrie. I want to meet Cee before you change your mind and decide I’m not worthy.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked incredulously. “You’d give up a surgery.”

  She shrugged. “Big deal. There’ll be more. There’s only one chance to meet your boyfriend.” She leaned close and whispered shamelessly, “Is he any good?” The waggle of her brows told me all I needed to know about what she meant.

  “Better than you,” I lobbed back.

  “That’s because you’re not into me. Or people with my kind of parts. So that’s not an answer.”

  I knew it wasn’t. That’s why I’d said that. “How sure are you Dr. Kidd and Kelly the Scrub Nurse are together?”

  “Not very. Want to play stalker with me and find out if they go home together or see if we can catch them having a drink or dinner together?”

  It reminded me of Holly’s and my spying days, but felt… wrong. Reminded me too much of my dad. I shook my head, holding onto my amused smile with everything I could. “Nah, but if you find something and want to report it, I won’t tell you you’re awful for being a busybody.”

  “Party pooper.”

  “Lab results for Dr. Ballard, patient name Stanley Richards,” one of the lab people called out, putting a printout in the outbox on the lab window ledge. I stood and grabbed it, moving us back into the hallway where people traversed and the subject could be dropped. Satisfied the results were as expected with no surprises, I told Sabrina I would deliver them to Dr. Kingsley.

  “I’m going to see if I can find Dr. Kidd and bait him into an on-call room, test his interest so to speak.” She flounced off.

  I watched her leave, releasing a sigh that carried my anxieties out of my body. It felt good to have one person I could talk to. I had no idea I would only have three hours’ peace with the idea of her being intrigued by Craig and me before all hell broke loose.

  “So who’s the top and who’s the bottom?” Sabrina asked, waving her pretzel between the two of us before popping it into her mouth and crunching away. Beneath the table, I put my hand over Craig’s, only to find it clenched in a fist. It wasn’t going well, and I had no real idea why. Well, I kind of did. Three rounds in, and Sabrina had spent the majority of the conversation perving on Craig and me. Every time he changed the subject to our work, or an exhibit he saw at a gallery, or even the plot of Lost, she spent a few minutes going along, then brought us back to our relationship. She wanted to know everything, from who slept on which side of the bed to whether we wore each other’s clothes, took showers together, and if we’d ever added a third.

  “Sabrina, no,” I warned. “We’re done talking about our sex life, okay? What about you? Are you dating anyone? Aside from trying to get your claws into Dr. Kidd?”

  She shrugged and signaled the waitress for another round. “There was this guy Billy. But that never went beyond casual because of my hours. It’s hard dating someone who’s not a doctor. How do you guys make it work?”

  I opened my mouth to bark at her about bringing things back to us, but Craig surprised me by answering. “I work a lot myself, either on my paintings or on my commercial work. I never know when the inspiration for something will strike me, so I already kept strange hours. Dane has put up with waking in the middle of the night to find me in the living room with my drawing tablet, mumbling things to myself. I haven’t done that in a while, but when the inspiration strikes….” He shrugged. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

  “You ever paint Dane?”

  “All the time. One of my favorite subjects.” Craig smiled, and I beamed at him. He was clearly trying here, even if Sabrina came on strong. She made most everyone uncomfortable at first. I squeezed his hand beneath the table, and he unclenched his fingers and laced them through mine.

  “Can I see anything you’ve done?”

  Craig pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and showed her photos of his paintings, and she made appropriate noises of appreciation, though Craig was careful not to show her the album with the nudes.

  “Dane says you might like to paint me,” Sabrina offered, finishing off her fourth drink. It wouldn’t be long before we’d need to get her a cab home. Maybe I could suggest dinner, too, so she would have something to balance the alcohol. She was drinking cosmos, and I knew this bar made them strong.

  “Is that right?” Craig asked, raising an amused eyebrow at me. I didn’t miss the twinge of disapproval that eyebrow held, either.

  I stuttered. “I already told you this. If not, don’t worry about it. I just didn’t want her surprised.”

  Sabrina pursed her lips, then turned to Craig. “You do find me pretty enough to model for you, right?”

  Inwardly I groaned. I should never have said anything. Sabrina never missed a chance to remind people she was desirable in some way, either with her smarts or her looks. It made our fellow interns, and many of the residents, think she was vapid and shallow. Having been put on more than one case with her, I knew her to be a compassionate person with a gifted mind and an easy smile patients liked. She had good qualities below the surface, but she lacked the patience to let people discover them for themselves. She had to shove it in everyone’s face that she finished top of her class in med school, or that she’d had a fling with this A-list person, or that she’d put herself through school by posing for ads in magazines. I recognized it for the insecurity it was, but to those who didn’t know her that well, it was smug bragging.

  “I do,” Craig said, appeasing her overt challenge with his approval, however feigned. “In fact, if you’re game, I’d like to do something for your next day off. Are you free?”

  I looked at him, startled. He winked at me and smiled.

  Sabrina nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. That would be great.” They exchanged numbers to arrange a meeting, and Sabrina stood, throwing two twenties on the table to cover the drinks. “It was lovely to meet you, Craig. Dane, we’ll have to do this again sometime.”

  I stood with her. “Where are you going?” I probably should have just said sure and let her go, because the entire evening had been one awkward question after another.

  “I have a date.” Her grin broadened. “Dr. Kidd gets off in half an hour.” She laughed at my shock.

  “But I thought….” my voice trailed off.

  “So did I. And I mean to find out.”

  “Does he know you have a date?”

  She swiped the back of her hand across my bicep, making a “psssh” noise. That would be a no.

  “Hey,” Craig interrupted. “Do you mind if I get a picture of you two?” It seemed the surprises would keep on coming. It was clear to me Craig wasn’t a fan of her, and I fully expected the exchange of contact information to simply be his politeness showing through, and that he’d blow her off and blame it on a crazy schedule (not untrue) or lack of inspiration.

  “Of course,” Sabrina agreed magnanimously, pulling me into her side and wrapping her arm around my waist. I had no choice but to drape mine around her shoulders and try to smile. I shouldn’t have been at all startled when she goosed me, but I was. Craig got his shot, Sabrina got her grope,
and I got to stand there wondering what just happened. She sauntered off, still laughing.

  “Well, she’s a delight of epic proportions,” Craig grumbled, resuming his seat. I dropped into mine beside him and downed the remainder of my one and only Jack and Coke. “She’s the peach you chose to come out to at work? Why?”

  I shook my head. In that moment, I had no idea. “She’s not normally that bad?” I offered, unconvinced myself.

  “From the sound of it, you should be warning this Dr. Kidd she’s coming. That didn’t seem honest.”

  To that, I scoffed. “She’s not crazy enough to jeopardize her career doing something monumentally stupid and piss off an attending.”

  “It’s not her I’m concerned about, it’s him.”

  I turned suspicious eyes on him. He was heart-attack serious. “Okay, I get it. She’s forward and brash and kind of a jerk about respecting privacy, but she’s also fun and funny and caring. She’s brave and daring and exactly the kind of person it takes to become a surgeon. She’s not that bad.”

  “She needs to be knocked down several pegs.”

  “What, doctor’s ego?” I snapped. “It takes a lot of self-confidence to be what we are. We need to be arrogant to believe we can heal people with sharp instruments.”

  “You’re not arrogant,” he tossed back. “You’re smart and brilliant and funny in your own way, all without being snide and pushy and an asshole.”

  I smeared the condensation from my drink in a circle on the table with the bottom of my glass. “I’m also in the closet at work, afraid I’m going to get run off for being gay, and that makes me feel weak and on edge. At least she has the guts to be who she is.”

  “Guts can be stupid. Can’t you see it, Dane?” Craig asked, looking me in the eyes. “She’s a collector.”

  I stared at him stupidly, uncomprehending. “Huh?”

  “She goes around collecting things—mostly people—to fawn all over her, or information to use against someone, or interesting friends she can parade around to make herself appear more intriguing than she is. And you just gave her so much ammunition to hold over you it’s not funny. Don’t be surprised if you end up in her pocket to be used at a time when it’s most damaging, because the drama of it all will be Oscar-worthy.”