stitches. Dr. Remy said there was only so much blood because of the bruise,” she explained. “What happened? Why weren’t you wearing pads?”
“Please don’t lecture me,” I moaned. I felt stupid enough as it was. I had no one to blame for this except myself, my own stubborn nature.
“I wasn’t going to lecture you,” she replied. I peered up at her through one squinted eye. She looked exasperated; she had definitely been gearing up to lecture me.
“Did you bring me some new pants?” I asked her.
“Yes,” her lips were pursed in a disapproving grimace, but she was carrying a pair of loose-fitting navy sweatpants.
“Thanks,” I muttered, holding out my hand to take the clothing.
“Dr. Remy says that you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to, but no physical activity for the rest of the day,” she warned.
“Did Dr. Remy say when I can do physical activity?” I assumed Dr. Remy was the unknown Medic who had stitched me up.
“Preferably not for a week, but if you promise to be careful and wear a protective suit, tomorrow should be fine.”
“Tomorrow it is,” I snapped, immediately feeling bad. Janet was just trying to help, and she wasn’t the person I was angry with. I was angry with myself for being stubborn.
Janet helped me slide off of the stretcher and into the sweatpants, then handed me three green pills and a small plastic cup of water.
“Prevent infection,” she said as she handed them to me. I nodded my understanding and cupped the pills in my palm before throwing them in my mouth.
If I’d insisted, Janet would’ve let me mull over my stupidity in the solitude of my own room. Somehow, I didn’t think that was a productive use of my time, and I knew that I’d feel even worse if I didn’t have something to distract me. So instead of heading back to my dorm room, I limped to Ms. Cleary’s language class.
I arrived just as her previous class was letting out.
“Ms. Lyons!” she exclaimed. “You’re early!”
“Um, yeah. I had to visit Medical, so I left a little early from my last class.” That was mostly true. There was no way that I was explaining my refusal to wear protective padding just to prove to Donavon I was tough.
“I have plenty for you to get started on.” She smiled, motioning me to her desk. Inwardly, I groaned. Paperwork - just what I wanted to do. Outwardly, I matched her smile and limped pathetically to sit in her chair.
The opportunities to engage Annalise in conversation were few and far between, so I jumped on them. Mostly, I made small talk asking about what she did in her free time and if she ever got the chance to leave campus to enjoy Baltimore or Washington. I was even so bold as to chance asking about her personal life.
“Oh, not much chance for that,” she laughed. “My duties here at school keep me very busy.”
“But you don’t want to date? Start a family? That’s the great thing about being a teacher, right? It’s easy to get married and settle down. I’ve even heard that if you’re married you can request to live off campus,” I pressed. Sure, I knew that the questions were indelicate, but after my morning, tact was not a priority. The sooner I found the spy, the sooner that I could get away from Donavon.
“Yes, that is true, dear...but the students here are my family. I don’t need more than that,” she answered. Her eyes took on a faraway look and I knew that she was caught in the memory of her failed marriage. Her thoughts were sad, regretful. Annalise had truly loved her husband, and his actions had cut her deeply. But through the pain, I felt her determination to personally right the wrongs of her husband. Her inner turmoil saddened me. I couldn’t imagine living with the knowledge that someone you’d loved had betrayed you so severely. I wasn’t positive that she wasn’t a spy, but she was coming close to being a strike-through on my list of suspects.
The rest of my school day was blessedly
“Please don’t lecture me,” I moaned. I felt stupid enough as it was. I had no one to blame for this except myself, my own stubborn nature.
“I wasn’t going to lecture you,” she replied. I peered up at her through one squinted eye. She looked exasperated; she had definitely been gearing up to lecture me.
“Did you bring me some new pants?” I asked her.
“Yes,” her lips were pursed in a disapproving grimace, but she was carrying a pair of loose-fitting navy sweatpants.
“Thanks,” I muttered, holding out my hand to take the clothing.
“Dr. Remy says that you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to, but no physical activity for the rest of the day,” she warned.
“Did Dr. Remy say when I can do physical activity?” I assumed Dr. Remy was the unknown Medic who had stitched me up.
“Preferably not for a week, but if you promise to be careful and wear a protective suit, tomorrow should be fine.”
“Tomorrow it is,” I snapped, immediately feeling bad. Janet was just trying to help, and she wasn’t the person I was angry with. I was angry with myself for being stubborn.
Janet helped me slide off of the stretcher and into the sweatpants, then handed me three green pills and a small plastic cup of water.
“Prevent infection,” she said as she handed them to me. I nodded my understanding and cupped the pills in my palm before throwing them in my mouth.
If I’d insisted, Janet would’ve let me mull over my stupidity in the solitude of my own room. Somehow, I didn’t think that was a productive use of my time, and I knew that I’d feel even worse if I didn’t have something to distract me. So instead of heading back to my dorm room, I limped to Ms. Cleary’s language class.
I arrived just as her previous class was letting out.
“Ms. Lyons!” she exclaimed. “You’re early!”
“Um, yeah. I had to visit Medical, so I left a little early from my last class.” That was mostly true. There was no way that I was explaining my refusal to wear protective padding just to prove to Donavon I was tough.
“I have plenty for you to get started on.” She smiled, motioning me to her desk. Inwardly, I groaned. Paperwork - just what I wanted to do. Outwardly, I matched her smile and limped pathetically to sit in her chair.
The opportunities to engage Annalise in conversation were few and far between, so I jumped on them. Mostly, I made small talk asking about what she did in her free time and if she ever got the chance to leave campus to enjoy Baltimore or Washington. I was even so bold as to chance asking about her personal life.
“Oh, not much chance for that,” she laughed. “My duties here at school keep me very busy.”
“But you don’t want to date? Start a family? That’s the great thing about being a teacher, right? It’s easy to get married and settle down. I’ve even heard that if you’re married you can request to live off campus,” I pressed. Sure, I knew that the questions were indelicate, but after my morning, tact was not a priority. The sooner I found the spy, the sooner that I could get away from Donavon.
“Yes, that is true, dear...but the students here are my family. I don’t need more than that,” she answered. Her eyes took on a faraway look and I knew that she was caught in the memory of her failed marriage. Her thoughts were sad, regretful. Annalise had truly loved her husband, and his actions had cut her deeply. But through the pain, I felt her determination to personally right the wrongs of her husband. Her inner turmoil saddened me. I couldn’t imagine living with the knowledge that someone you’d loved had betrayed you so severely. I wasn’t positive that she wasn’t a spy, but she was coming close to being a strike-through on my list of suspects.
The rest of my school day was blessedly
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