Fly With Me | ✓

20

Everleigh spent the next two weeks after class and clinical eating whatever meal was next at Florence and Roman's house. Nobody complained about her presence, so Everleigh continued to do it. Maybe she'd hidden a clean pair of scrubs in Navi's room, maybe she hadn't. In case of her sleeping over, of course. Roman stopped making boxing jokes about a week and a half into Everleigh bugging them for free food—she wasn't sure it was because he wanted to or because he'd simply run out of boxing jokes to make. He wasn't very impressed that Everleigh didn't know what Southpaw was and made her watch it with him over an army's worth of blueberry pancakes. He'd been even less impressed when Everleigh decided to sit there and diagnose injuries during the fight—told her she was a pain in the ass, Everleigh said "actually, that's piriformis," which resulted in Roman throwing a pancake at her. (Everleigh might've offered to watch Rush with him to make up for the terrible joke. It was decent. She still didn't know fuck all about Formula One, though. Sorry, Brendon.)

By the time her last day at clinical day arrived, Everleigh was dead exhausted. Ready for a week long hibernation that she definitely deserved. Her feet were sore and her hair was dry and her scrubs were still stiff and that felt unfair. At least the bruise was mostly faded. Just a little glimmer of purple and yellow that was only noticeable if someone was close. Which would be why any time she saw her parents, she wore a couple layers of coverup. Roman and Florence didn't snitch on her. She appreciated it.

"How are we today, nurse Everleigh?" Lennon asked.

"Doing well," Everleigh said. "And you, nurse Lennon?"

Lennon smiled. "Doin' all right."

"Good."

"Do we have lunch today?"

Everleigh held up the Tupperware Roman had packed her that morning. Leftover kung pao cauliflower and rice he'd made the night before. Delicious, really.

"Good, good," Lennon said, nodding.

It was nice that she checked, but Everleigh also appreciated that she wasn't pestering her on days where there wasn't any lunch in Everleigh's itinerary. Those days the past couple weeks had led to Lennon and Everleigh taking a walk outside for lunch and if Everleigh happened to buy lunch while they were out, that was a bonus. Some days she simply sipped sparkling raspberry lemonade and called it a day. Not the best and definitely not a meal replacement, but better than nothing, she told herself.

"Look, I don't want to be sappy—"

Everleigh pushed her bite of cauliflower to the side of her mouth. "Please don't tell me you're going to miss me. Like four other nurses have—"

"Made an impact on us, Everleigh."

"You can call me Leigh."

"Leigh," Lennon said. "And I am going to say I'll miss you. Because it's true."

"Sentimentality's for losers."

"Call me a loser, then," Lennon said, pulling a box out from behind her back and holding it out toward Everleigh as she walked toward her. Everleigh fought back the tiniest bit of laughter that Lennon had wrapped her gift in what appeared to be a tensor bandage from the supply closet. Surely she was expected to give that back after. "I think sentimentality keeps you grounded."

"I'm a flight attendant," Everleigh said, "I fly. Constantly."

"I will return this, girlypop," Lennon said, "don't think I won't. Don't be a shit."