Tough Girl

17: I'm a friend

After school, when everything was sorted out, Sean- I mean Dr. Green- offered to drive me to the hospital and then back home. I said I could walk, but he insisted. Knowing he wasn't actually all that much older than me made me more comfortable accepting. That doesn't mean I didn't continuously refuse at first. No, I'm not stubborn.

Maybe just a little.

It did mean, however, that I would have to wait the rest of his shift before I could go home, because he was working late tonight and I didn't want the boys to have to pick me up and what not. I know there's enough inconvenience in the world to not want to give my friends one more, even is it's just a car ride.

When we get to the hospital, I pull my book bag out of the passenger seat with me and Sean has a bag, too. We enter the hospital. It smells like a mix of disinfectant and Febreeze. A cart rolls by, holding medical supplies, and I spot the needles. My knees go a little weak and I convince myself to keep moving. They aren't for me, I say to myself. Walk forward you'll be fine.

Sean glances at me, but doesn't say anything. He leads me to his office so I can set my stuff down, and hands me a map. "Thanks," I murmur. Sean raises an eyebrow. "Are you okay?" I nod very slowly, not meeting his eyes quite yet. "Ummm....Did I mention I don't like needles?" I glance up to his face. He chuckles. "My shift doesn't start for awhile so how about I walk with you for a little bit. Let's see if we can get you to your parents."

We were supposed to go back to the desk the way we came, except there was an accident in the hallway. We were walking by another one of those carts, with the needles, and a nurse and a little girl were pushing it. The little girl tipped it and it when crashing down, needles flying. I freaked. The needles were flying at me!

Sean quickly pulled me away, and I slid down against the wall of the hallway, curled up. I wanted to cry. When the cart and its contents had been picked up, Sean walked back to me. "Are you alright?" I stood up and brushed myself off. "I hate needles," I murmur.

After more walking (the front desk and then upstairs to my parent's room) we were finally standing in front of my mother's room. I was about to open the door when the knob twisted all on its own. I stepped back as a lady stepped out. She was in blue clothing and her auburn hair was puked back.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "You must be Sang. Your mother and you look just alike. She tells me about you all the time. I'm Lindsey, your mother's doctor you could say." Lindsey holds out her hand and I shake it with a smile. "And, Sean? What are you doing here?"

"I'm a friend," Sean says. "I have twenty minutes before my shift starts." "Oh," Lindsey said, and turned back to me. "Look, sweetheart, but I'm really sorry. You can't see your mother yet. She has fifteen more minutes until the anesthetic wears off." I swallow. Anesthetic? "Oh, Sang. It's nothing to worry about. We were just removing one of the last shards of glass." She must see my face because she laughs. "I'm not helping so I'll just shut up. But you're father wants to see you."

"Step father." I correct after she walked away. Sean raises an eyebrow.
I push open the door, leaving Sean outside the room. "Sang, daughter that I love," Andrew says loudly. "I'm not your daughter," I say, equally sweet and loud. I know Sean can hear.

Sean's POV

Sang walks into her father's- step father's- hospital room. I can hear a male voice. "Sang, daughter that I love," it says. Then Sang's reply, equally toned: "I'm not your daughter." The voices get quieter and I lean on the door, pressing my ear against. "Anna's my wife. Get over yourself," he growls. Silence. The man speaks again. "Come here, and tell me what you told them." Feet shuffle.

"I told them you were cooking dinner, and mom broke the jar and you slipped and hit your head." Sang says, softly. Then she lowers her tone again. "Oh, and don't worry. I pretended that I loved you and I don't think they could smell the alcohol." She spits the word out, like it tasted bad on her tongue. I cringe and clench my fists.

That's when I hear the whimpers.

Sang.

I knock on the door and call to get. This has gone on long enough. I'm putting a stop to this. The whimpers stop and I open the door. The man is laying, looking innocent. I look at the clipboard on the end of the bed. Andrew Mill. Sang is sitting on the floor, holding her arm where the bruise was. Her eyes are wide as she looked at me, and she knows that I know something.

"Hi," I say to the man, pleasant. Even though I want to give him what he deserves, I hold back. "My name's Sean. I'm a friend. I drove Sang here and I really need to be getting back home. I was planning on doing her off." Sang glances up at me but when I catch her looking, she looks away. Finally, she stands up. "Yeah, I'm gonna go now. Bye."

Once we are out of the room, I grab her wrist and head back for my office. She's not going to run, not going to slip past my defenses, not going to be in danger any longer. Not if I can help it.