A GIRL LIKE HER (Lesbian Story)

5-SURPRISE!!

"Does it hurt when I do this?" The doctor ask as he bends my wrist forward. I hiss at the shooting pain, I wish I can I scream "fuck" into my hand. "I'm guessing that's a yes." He adds, now holding my hand more delicately. He jerks it forward, sending another shooting pain. I jerk away

"Fuuuckkk," I call out. Jamie eyes widen once that word leaves my mouth.

"Looking at your X-ray scans, your wrist isn't fractured, that's the good news. Bad news, your fingers are sprained and so is your wrist. You'll need to rest it for a few days. We'll wrap it due to the spitting of your knuckle. After a week, take the wrapping off, clean the wound and rest ice on top to release the tension in those muscles." My eyes roam to Jamie, who stands behind the doctor, waiting to assist him. Her blue eyes find mine, she throws me a reassuring smile.

"I also, have a few questions to ask, medical purposes," he assures as he throws me a smile. Flashing his white lined-teeth and dimple. He takes a seat in the chair and rolls it closer to me. He's now invading my bubble, I'd much rather have Jamie do that. I roll my eyes, well mentally, not physically. Don't want to seem rude. Just hate that I get a pretty boy as a doctor rather than a beautiful—

"Were you under the influence when this incident happened?" The question hits me out of nowhere. Seriously? These questions again. I constantly got bombarded with these questions each time I ended up in the hospital in California.

"No," I murmur out. He nods and circles something on the paper.

"How did this incident occur again?" Damn, answering these questions only reminded me of the last time I did and how it landed me in a rehabilitation center, also an "anger management" meeting. I sigh very frustratedly and loudly. Jamie throws me that stern look. That look she always gave me when we were teens. Whenever I said something rude or witty, she'll make sure to stare at me as if I casted a spell on her mother.

"I-I was helping my mother move somethings out of the garage when a vase fell on my hand," I state, staring at the wall rather than the doctor placed in front of me.

"I thought you said a box?" Jamie interrupt. My eyes find hers, they're filled with confusion and worrisome. She knows I'm not being all the way honest here and she's here to call me out on my shit.

"It was a box with a vase in it, the box tipped over, the vase fell out and landed on my hand," I explain throughly. Jamie doesn't buy it, but apparently Dr. Evans does because he nods.

"Are you taking any medications provided to you by your doctor?" I shake my head.

"When was the last time you were seen by a doctor, besides your visit today, a therapist?"

"Last doctors appointment, 1 and a half month ago, my therapist, before I left home."

"Do you have a specific date?" He questions raising his eyebrow.

"Three weeks ago, maybe," he nods and jots that down. He finish writing a few notes before sticking the paper into his folder. He slowly rises.

"You're free to go once Nurse Jamie helps you get your hand bandage wrapped." I nod and he exits. I let out an exhausted grunt once he's fully gone. Jamie gives me that upset look. Her mouth cocked to the side as her eyebrows raise with anger.

"Do you have anything to say Jamie?" I know she does, that's why that look is there.

"Nope, not really." She grabs my hand and examines it agains. Slowly rubbing her fingers over the bruising.

"Okay." I say dropping it. There's silence, awkward silence. I stare at her from time to time, she's doesn't dare glare back at me. Her focus is wrapping this bandage around my wrist.