❝ Oh, right. I wouldn't want to be lumped in with an overachieving, straight-A student whose sense of self-worth is tied to social approval and external validation. Now, that would be a tragedy. ❞
In which overachieving Harvard-bound Isabelle Grigio...
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Isabelle sees Ben waiting for her in the lobby. She runs toward him and brings the plastic bag of snacks to his face. "Ta-da! I know hospital food sucks, so I bought your favorites." She pulls out a pack of Kit-Kats, which only gets her a skeptical look from Ben. "Okay, so these are my favorites, but I also got you sour candies because I know your slight aversion to sweets."
"Thanks, Belle. Appreciate it," he says, and for a moment, it almost looks like he is going to lean forward and give her a hug, but decided against it at the last second.
"Uh, do you need a hug?" Isabelle asks awkwardly, regretting the words almost immediately when she sees the equally awkward look on his face. So, she adds, "Hugging might make you feel better because it reduces cortisol. Um, I learned it today in class."
"Well, let's test it then," Ben replies. Even though he tries to play it cool, he seems guarded and hesitant when he closes in and wraps his arms around her, his fingertips on her back barely touching her.
She hugs his neck, and in an attempt to close the distance, she teases him, "Speaking my language, are we? Who's the nerd now?" She feels his chest shaking, and she realizes that he's laughing. It sends thrills through her, knowing that she made him laugh.
"So, do you feel better?" she whispers, still on a high from making him laugh. His palms are on her back now, no longer hovering.
He nods. "I do, thank you."
"Science wins again," she says, which earns her another laugh from him, sending another thrill through her.
Isabelle pulls away from him first and looks at face, as if searching for any indication on his features that would tell her the answer to her next question. "How's April?"
"She was asleep when I left her, but she's getting better, I think. At least that's what they told me. Come on, I'll take you to her," Ben says, looking away and leading the way.
When Isabelle and Ben arrive at the intensive care unit (ICU), a middle-aged woman is standing outside its doors. There is something familiar about her that Isabelle couldn't quite place. Dark, curly hair tied in a bun, brown skin, and a sharp, angular face. She looks back at Ben. Same features.
The middle-aged woman looks up and smiles in their direction. She saunters towards them, her heels clacking against the floor. "Oh, Ben, you brought a friend?"
"Mom, this is Isabelle," Ben says. "Isabelle, this is my Mom."
Isabelle transfers the plastic bag to her other hand and stretches out her free hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Morrell."
"Likewise. I mean, Benjie constantly talks about you," Mrs. Morrell says, the corners of her eyes wrinkling when she smiles.
Isabelle turns her head to look at Ben, smirking. "Does he? All good things, I hope, ... Benjie?"
