Conceited [H.S.]

ONE

ANDREA WILSON

I hear the faint sound of the clock ticking as I sit in the break room with the palm of my hand holding my head up, pretty much falling asleep on the first break of my overnight shift.

As much as I love the extra pay that comes with overnight shifts, what I don't love is the exhaustion that always hits me between one and two in the morning. For some reason, that hour feels endless and makes me realize I have seven or so hours left before I can go home.

I usually don't mind the overnight shifts, except tonight, there was a callout, so I'm stuck picking up the slack in the emergency room. Also, the doctor on call happens to be pissed that he's here, meaning he's taking it out on everyone else.

I take a sip of my coffee, realizing that this small amount of caffeine might not do as much as I'd like it to at this point.

I close my eyes at the warm feeling it brings to my chest as I take a few gulps. I hear what sounds like stomping coming closer from the hallway making me scrunch my brows together.

As the stomping sound gets louder, I'm eventually met with Jo looking frustrated, crossing her arms over her body at the sight of me.

Jo and I became friends pretty quickly, well quickly for me at least, since we were hired at the same time almost two years ago. She's two years older than me, but the age difference is too small to affect our friendship in any way.

"Dr. Slater is a dick," she scoffs, walking into the breakroom to sit down at the table across from me. She reaches over and picks up my coffee cup, chugging the rest of it.

"Hey," I whine. That was my only source of energy.

"Sorry," she mutters, knowing damn well she isn't.

"What did he do?" I ask her curiously.

Dr. Slater can be a nice person at times, but the majority of the time he is on sort of a power trip. He never treats us with respect. Well, he doesn't even give us the standard mannerisms you would have with colleagues.

"I was doing him a favor by finishing up his post-op notes, and he comes over to me and complains that he couldn't read my writing and went off on me in front of everyone," she complains.

I know that she hates being yelled at in front of others, I mean I think anyone would, but Dr. Slater has a way of doing it to make sure he embarrasses you. Something about it being a way to promote change to better yourself. It's a load of bullshit if you ask me.

"I'm so sorry. I don't understand why he does that," I say sympathetically.

I've been on the receiving end of his screaming before, and I was met with emotions of wanting to punch him in the face and wanting to go into a corner and cry.

"I would have fixed it if he asked nicely, but now he can fuck off," she says irritably. I know that she's going to fix them for him, but I decide not to call it out.

"Good, he needs to learn some manners," I say instead, telling the truth at least.

She crosses her arms on the table, then rests her head on them, letting out a loud groan. The sound makes me laugh, considering I've had my fair share of letting out annoyed groans in this room. I reach over and rub her arm, letting her know that I'm here.

Jo has been there for almost every stressful moment of my life. She's supported me through everything since we got close, and I never allow myself to take it for granted. She is one of the best friends I've ever had in my life.

She helped me get through the first year of working here officially as a hired nurse. Not an internship or field hours to help me graduate. An official registered nurse who was employed by a hospital. I hope that I helped her as well, even a sliver of what she's given me.

"Just take a few deep breaths, and when you're ready, I'll go back out there with you, and we're both going to kick ass and prove to him that he can't mess with us," I say, knowing that Jo and I are known for killing it during the overnight shifts in the ER.

"But he can mess with us, look at me," she says stubbornly.

I roll my eyes, knowing that she just doesn't want to deal with him anymore tonight, which I wouldn't either.

"You didn't show him that, though," I reason with her. She lifts her head off her arms to look at me. I grin, knowing she realizes I'm right.

"I guess you're right," she mutters with attitude.

I stand up from the plastic chair that I've somehow felt comfortable in for the past thirty or so minutes. I grab the now-empty coffee cup off the table and toss it into the trash bin. I walk back over to her slowly, holding my hand out for her to grab. She glances at it, pouting a lip out at me before grabbing it softly.

I pull her up from the small chair, grabbing both of her hands and making her look at me. She has a pouted expression on her face, showing me that this has affected her. I hate him.

"Deep breath in," I say while taking in a heavy inhale, her following my movements. I hold it for a few seconds.

"And out," I say while slowly letting my breath out, I hear her exhale as well.

"We got this," I encourage her, knowing the toll this could take on her if she overthinks it.

It's easy to overthink and underestimate yourself when someone screams all of your mistakes in front of other nurses and doctors. It's common in this field to be called out, which both of us like considering it helps us grow, but when someone takes it too far and hopes to embarrass the person, it doesn't motivate you to do better.

There's one doctor at this hospital that Jo and I love working for, considering she isn't afraid to call us out on our mistakes and reprimand us, but she at least acknowledges our improvement. It motivates us to work harder to get that acknowledgment one day. She doesn't do it often, so it's worth the hard work.

Dr. Collins is my favorite doctor here, and I will always be open to her criticism or tips to help improve.

"We got this?" She repeats with a questioning tone. I tilt my head in annoyance, giving her a look.

"We got this!" I say a little louder, trying to exude some confidence in her.

"Yes, we got this," she repeats with a nod.

"Thank you, now let's go," I say, dragging her out of the quiet room.

"At least it isn't busy; it's been quiet so far," she states stupidly, making me drop her hand and glare at her.

Why...why, why, why?

"I hate you; do you realize what you've just done? You've jinxed it now," I explain to her.

Her hand flies over her mouth, regretting her words instantly. Well, it's going to be an interesting night.