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by May, McKinley

  Diego curses before continuing his punishment.

  "Oi!" Liam cups his hands over his mouth and yells out to him. "Faster!"

  Diego flips Liam the bird as Coach swivels around, squinting into the sunlight.

  "Want to join him, Wright?"

  Liam's smile vanishes as he begins back-pedaling towards the car. "Let's go."

  After the bumpy ride back to Windhaven, we immediately head to Huntington Hall—the dorm with the best cafeteria on campus hands-down. This place used to be a well-kept secret a few years ago, but people told their friends, and those friends told their friends, and now it's packed every hour of the day.

  I grab some food and coffee before I spot Cam and Liam at a large table they managed to snag. Just as I'm about to dig into my meal, a familiar brunette saunters up to us.

  "Morning." Rayne drops a banana on the table and starts pulling out a chair.

  "Not so fast, Rayne Drop." I stick a foot in the seat. "This table's reserved. Dudes only."

  "Oh really?" One brow arches high. "I don't see a sign."

  "Sorry, Sportscaster Girl. Rules are rules." Cameron gives her a piteous shrug. "Get lost."

  She lets out a loud snort. "You guys are killing me with the ridiculous nicknames."

  She starts swatting at my foot until I have no choice but to move it. As she takes a seat, her head shakes side to side. "I feel like I'm the new pledge in whatever dumbass fraternity you three are a part of."

  "You're fresh meat," Liam says with a grin. "We have to make sure you're worthy of joining us. You need to pass initiation before you officially become a member."

  "Vaughn and I have been together for months. Isn't my initiation period over?" She swivels her head around, gazing at the crowded dining hall. "Where is he, anyway?"

  After a few moments, she spots her boyfriend and waves him down.

  He walks up behind her chair, kissing the top of her head before narrowing his blue eyes in our direction. "What are you assholes doing to my girl over here?"

  Rayne tilts her head back to make eye contact with him. "They're hazing me."

  "What the fuck, guys?" He drops his tray and slides into the seat next to her, an impish smile appearing on his face. "You started without me?"

  "Jerk." She playfully slaps his arm before stealing a piece of bacon off of his plate. "How was practice?"

  "Sucked. Coach was in a fucking mood."

  "Yeah, dude was PMSing big time this morning." I turn my gaze on Cameron. "What's up with him?"

  Cam's always been extremely close with the Hansons—he has dinner at their house every week, helps Coach's wife, Erika, weed her garden, and even spends some holidays with them. He doesn't know his parents and the Hansons don't have kids, so they've kinda filled in those roles for each other. If anyone's got the deets on Coach, it's definitely Cameron.

  "Now that I think about it, there was something a few weeks ago." He runs a hand through his dark blonde hair as he continues. "I was having lunch with them and they were both acting weird as hell. Things were just...I don't know, off, I guess? Not sure how to explain it. And then Erika mentioned something about an appointment with a lawyer later that afternoon."

  "A lawyer?" Liam frowns. "For what?"

  "Not sure." Cam takes a swig of coffee and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Coach changed the subject real quick, so I didn't ask."

  I cock a brow. "Divorce?"

  He immediately shakes his head. "No way, dude. They're high school sweethearts. And they've still got that giddy teenage love going on. Hanging around them is like hanging out with those two." He tips his chin towards Vaughn and Rayne. "Actually, no. It's worse. It's how you feel when you're locked in a room with Liam and Ellie."

  "Disgusted?" I quip. "Nauseated?"

  He grins. "Exactly."

  Liam scoffs. "Ellie and I are not nauseating. We don't do any of that lovey-dovey shit. You lot are mental."

  "I think you two are cute, Liam," Rayne says as she grabs her fourth strip of bacon from Vaughn's tray.

  "Shit, Raynie." He wraps his fingers around her tiny wrist before she can lift it to her mouth. "Are you planning on eating all my food?"

  He gently tries to pry her hand open, but she dips her head down and stuffs the piece in her mouth before he can retrieve it.

  "I'll get you some more in a second," she promises. "But first I need to have a little chat with this one." Her eyes lock onto mine.

  "Yeah? What about?"

  "I heard about your new lab partner."

  Awh, fuck.

  Here we go.

  "Poor Lexie," Vaughn mumbles with a laugh.

  Before Rayne can start in on me, I take the liberty of beginning the conversation. "Yeah, about her. I thought she was a party girl?"

  Her shoulders rise in a 'kinda-sorta' fashion. "It depends on your definition of party girl. She's definitely not one of those snorting-lines-of-coke-in-the-bathroom party animals. More of a social butterfly who likes to have a good time. She goes out a lot for sure."

  "And she's gonna be a doctor?"

  "She's smart." Rayne nods. "Really smart."

  "And she's smoking hot?" I scratch the stubble on my chin. "Damn."

  This chick's just got everything going for her, doesn't she?

  Her life must be easy as fuck.

  "She's beautiful, yes, but don't even go there, Weston. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but she's not gonna sleep with you. You're not her type."

  "Bullshit." I shoot her an arrogant smirk. "I'm everybody's type."

  "Not hers," she argues. "I've never seen her go out with a womanizer or an athlete. Literally never. Considering you fall into both of those categories, I think it's safe to say you're not her cup of tea."

  "Okay." I lift my arms in confusion. "What's your point?"

  Rayne shrugs. "I just wanna prepare you for rejection. I know you've never experienced that before. It's this crummy feeling when somebody tells you no."

  "Yeah, dude," Vaughn butts in, stabbing his fork in my direction. "If you think your snake-charmer ways are gonna get you laid with this girl, you're going to be sorely disappointed."

  "Christ. You two need to relax," I say with a carefree laugh. "I'm just gonna rib on her a bit. Retract the claws, please."

  "Don't mess with her too much, Weston." Rayne rolls her eyes as she grabs her banana peel and stands. "I'm gonna throw this away real quick. Anybody else have trash?"

  "Here, babe." Vaughn hands her his empty coffee cup. As she turns to walk off, he gives her a quick pat on the ass. "And don't bother coming back unless you have bacon!"

  The moment she's out of sight, a buzzing sensation shakes our table.

  Liam grabs his vibrating phone and immediately answers it. "Hey, El. Yeah, just having breakfast. How was class?"

  I down the rest of my coffee as I watch him switch the phone to his other ear, his mouth lifting into a cheeky smile that only Ellie can produce.

  Liam can be an asshole sometimes, but Ellie has a way of bringing out the cuddly-as-shit teddy bear hidden deep within. His icy exterior melts the moment he hears her voice.

  He lets out a chuckle in response to something she said and rubs the side of his neck. "Love you, too, Peaches."

  Cameron and Vaughn begin a chorus of retching noises as Liam glances over and scowls.

  He catches my eye and I shake my head in mock disappointment.

  "Dude," I say with a half-smile. "Fucking nauseating."

  8

  "Excuse me, missy? Do you work here?"

  I come to a halt in front of an open door, a sweet older woman beckoning me inside her hospital room.

  "No, but I volunteer here." I enter the stark-white room. "Do you need something?"

  She tugs at the multitude of wires and IV drips attached to her. "I'd love if you would unhook me from this bed."

  "Have you been discharged?"

  "I feel fit as a fiddle." She dodges my question. "I'm ready to get going!"

>   I chuckle as I reach for her file. "Tired of hanging out with us?"

  "I've got plans to go to the County Fair with my grandkids tonight. They've got half-price cotton candy on Sundays, you know. My granddaughter likes the pink kind."

  "Pink's good, but I prefer the blue," I say with a grin. I flip open her paperwork and skim the information.

  Eleanor Kent. 76 years old. Suffered a minor heart attack 8:30 p.m. on ....

  I notice the date and frown when I realize she was admitted last night.

  "I don't know if Dr. Lee will want you walking around so soon after your hospital stay, Mrs. Kent."

  She lets out a huff. "Well, honey, I'm not going to be walking around much. I'll be riding roller coasters and spinny-rides and what's that one that goes in about twenty different directions? The Tilt-O-Somethin'. My grandson just loves that one."

  My brow furrows at her evening plans. "I'm not qualified to give medical advice, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's probably not the best idea." I give her a sympathetic smile. "Plus, I think you'll be here for a few more nights of observation. We'll need to make sure your condition is stable before you can go home."

  "Well, darn." She sighs in disappointment. "If I'm going to be stuck here, would you be a dear and go get me some coffee? A strong latte would really hit the spot right now."

  Oh jeez.

  She wants adrenaline and caffeine less than twenty-four hours after a heart attack?

  This lady's asking for trouble.

  "Mrs. Kent." I take a seat on the edge of her bed. "Did Dr. Lee go over recovery protocol with you?"

  She nods, gray curls bouncing in unison. "Yes, he did."

  "And do you remember what he said?"

  Her lips purse together for a moment. "Not particularly, no."

  I give her blanket-covered leg a gentle pat. "Let me go get him for you. He'll be happy to answer all your questions."

  I'm leaving the room when I hear her voice behind me.

  "Do you think he could bring me some espresso?"

  After telling her she'll have to discuss that with him, I head into the hallway and bite back a laugh.

  Despite her interesting requests, this isn't the craziest thing I've encountered on the Cardiology Floor of St. Anne's Hospital.

  Not even close.

  There was the dude who ordered three triple-cheeseburgers to his room a few hours after his double bypass surgery. The artery-clogging meal was intercepted by a nurse who told him he might as well schedule his next surgery right then and there if he refused to change his eating habits.

  And then there was the massage therapist who decided a measly hospital stay wasn't going to put a damper in her business. At first we thought this lady was the most popular patient we'd ever had judging by the startling amount of visitors she received. Turns out they were just clients in need of some deep-tissue therapy.

  The worst was a woman who decided kinky hospital-bed sex with her husband was on her bucket list, and finally the opportunity had presented itself. Her heart monitor skyrocketed, a nurse and I barged into the room to see what was wrong, and...yeah. I'll let you fill in the rest for yourself.

  I shudder at the memory.

  Open-heart surgeries and child birth are kiddie stuff in comparison to that image.

  I've only been a volunteer here for a few years, but I've seen a whole lot.

  Freshman year, I started here as one of many interns in Windhaven's "Future Healthcare Providers" program. We got to shadow in every unit, and Cardiology instantly became my favorite.

  I'd like to say it was due to my deep fascination with the chambers of the heart or my budding interest in the circulatory system, but that'd be a lie. My reason was far simpler: the people who work on this floor are freaking awesome.

  I asked if I could continue shadowing for a few more weeks, they gave me the green light, and it wasn't long before I secured a position as a weekly volunteer. Now you can find me here practically every Sunday afternoon during the school year.

  After peeking in a few patient rooms, I track down Dr. Lee and warn him of Mrs. Kent's escape attempts and adrenaline-junkie evening plans. As he goes to check up on her, I grab a handful of clean linens and begin making up some rooms.

  I'm working on my fourth bed when a familiar female voice echoes in the hallway.

  "Does anybody know who Beth is? Anybody?"

  I hear a few mumbled "No's" and "I don't think so's".

  A few seconds later, the owner of the voice pops her head into the doorway. Her eyes light up when she spots me and she quickly steps into the room.

  "Lexie! Who the hell is Beth?!"

  So when I said I love the people who worked on the cardiology floor?

  This woman right here is exactly who I was talking about.

  Chelsea Banks is one of the Physician Assistants for the unit, and she's basically my favorite person ever. We may be a decade apart age wise, but that didn't stop us from forming a tight-knit relationship.

  She's this weird combination of wild friend you get day-drunk with, protective sibling who'll fight off anyone who does you dirty, and loving mom that knows just what advice to give in shitty situations.

  The most accurate way to describe her would be "Crazy Aunt". Yep, that totally works. She's my Crazy Aunt Chelsea.

  I fluff a pillow as I answer her question. "Beth's a new RN. I think she started here yesterday, but I haven't met her yet. Why?"

  "It must be her birthday because there's a cake for her in the break room, and I accidentally ate the first slice." A guilty grin takes over her face. "And then I had another. And another. And before I knew what was happening, I'd eaten almost half the thing!"

  I let out a loud laugh and give her a knowing look. "Let me guess. Baby's fault?"

  She pats her 6-month-pregnant stomach and lifts her shoulders. "This child has quite the appetite. All she wants is sugar and sweets and chocolate. I swear she's going to pop out expecting the world to look like CandyLand." She glances down at her bump in mock accusation. "You want your mama to blow up like a balloon, don't you?"

  "Don't listen to her, Baby Girl!" I call out. "Your mom had a weakness for desserts long before you came around."

  Chelsea snickers before checking her watch. "How long have you been here?"

  "Since 1:30."

  "Have you had a break yet?"

  "A couple of hours ago."

  She nods. "Let me do a quick round and you finish up here, then meet me in the break room so we can catch up."

  I give her a thumbs up as she exits the room.

  A few more struggles with fitted sheets later, I walk into the empty employee lounge. I boot up the coffee machine and make myself a mug full, hoping Mrs. Kent doesn't follow the scent in here like a bloodhound.

  Just as I'm taking my first sip, Chelsea arrives. Her gaze travels to the arrangement of food on the community table, a birthday cake that now reads "HAP BIRTH BE" front and center.

  She immediately squeezes her eyes shut. "Cover that cake so I can't see it. Hurry!"

  I roll my eyes as I flip the box shut. "There. You're safe."

  She cautiously peeks an eye open before sighing in relief. "Out of sight, out of mind. Now get your butt over here and give me a proper hello. I haven't seen you in forever!"

  Her arms wrap around my shoulders as she pulls me into a giant bear hug.

  "How was the—oomph—baby moon?" I manage to get out as she squeezes me half to death.

  "Fabulous!" She finally releases her grip on me as she launches into the details of her Hawaii vacay. "Beach bummin' in the sun all day, every day is my kinda life. Ryan, on the other hand...not so much. Poor guy got sunburned through the airplane window on the flight there, then fried to a crisp through the car windshield on the drive to the hotel. He was red as a tomato before we even stepped foot on the sand. I think I might've married the palest man in the world."

  We chat for the next ten minutes, our mouths moving a hundred miles per se
cond. Both of us are major chatterboxes, and it doesn't take long to catch each other up on the past month.

  I'm telling her about my classes when I look at the clock and groan. "And speaking of school, I'm gonna be up so late tonight studying."

  "Girl, you can leave early. It's a slow day. We're all good here." She waves me away. "Go get your work done."

  I polish off my coffee and start rinsing the mug when Chelsea claps her hands together.

  "Oh! Almost forgot to tell you. A family friend is dropping off some second-hand furniture for the nursery next week. You'll have to come mess with it when you have the chance."

  "What's the style?" I question over my shoulder. "Traditional? Modern?"

  "Your guess is as good as mine," she says with a shrug. "They sent us pics, but it just looked like normal ol' crap to me."

  "Oooh. Normal ol' crap! My favorite aesthetic," I tease. "You know, I think normal ol' crap's the new mid-century modern."

  She laughs. "I'm sure with a sander and a few cans of paint you'll make it work."

  When Chelsea found out she was pregnant last year, she asked if I'd like to help design the nursery. My answer was an immediate and enthusiastic Uh, Duh!! and we began planning budget, layout, and all the in-betweens. Now that she's quickly approaching her third trimester, it's time to put those plans into action.

  I dry the mug and place it back in the cabinet. "Just let me know whenever you want me to come over and start working. I'll be ready!"

  "I'll keep you posted."

  I'm grabbing my keys and belongings from a cubby when I see a petite lady walk into the room. She offers a hello as she heads towards the refrigerator.

  "Hey." Chelsea cocks her head. "Are you Beth, by any chance?"

  "That's me," the woman responds with a warm smile.

  "Happy Birthday! I noticed someone dropped off a cake for you. It's here somewhere...ah! Right here."

  I watch as Chelsea opens the lid to the box and does the worst acting known to mankind.

  "Oh my heavens no!" She gasps, bringing a hand dramatically to her mouth. "It looks like a few people have already gotten into it."

  I lean over her shoulder as I pass by and let out a gasp of my own. "Wow. More than a few people, don't you think, Chels? It looks like half the floor got a hold of that thing!"