Chapter 11- Mark

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I exit Jamie's room with Jackson.

"Do you think her family really doesn't care about her?" Jackson asks.

"I think they do, but they just don't show it," I say, but I'm not convinced. I know that sometimes, family just doesn't care.

It seemed to cheer Jackson up, though, because I can see the same hope in his eyes that I see in Lexie's eyes when she thinks about Thatcher. We walk over to another patient.

"Avery, go to the patient in the next bed," I say.

I look at the patient in the bed I'm standing in front of. The little boy sitting in the bed has bleached blonde hair, like Jamie, but that's where the similarities end. Jamie has a petite frame, and this boy is gruff and muscular.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Sloan. I'm going to be treating your burns," I say. I notice a cast on his ankle. It's full of signatures, so I don't think it was put on today. "When did you hurt your ankle?" I ask him.

"Three days ago I sprained it playing basketball," the boy replies. "Do you know where my sister Jamie is?"

"I actually just treated her burns. She's going to be okay," I say as I cut of a section of his shirt to examine a burn underneath it.

"Okay, good. She has to fly out to New York City this weekend. There's some huge science fair and she was asked to be in it. Apparently it's a huge deal," the boy says. He winces as I begin to treat his burn.

He talks about Jamie with such admiration. I can't imagine why she would believe her family didn't care about her. "What's your name?" I ask.

"Nick," he says.

"Jamie seemed to think that you don't care about how she's doing," I say to Nick. I know I shouldn't talk about what she said to me, but I have to know why she would think that, and maybe Nick knows something.

"Well, Brady and I care about her, but I'm 13 and Brady is 10 so our approval doesn't matter as much as our parents' approval. Our parents are pretty strict with us, and sometimes it seems like they don't care. Once, Jamie had a piano performance the same day as her best friend's birthday, and her best friend was moving away the next day. Mom and Dad forced her to play at the piano performance and she didn't get to say goodbye to her friend. She thinks they don't care but they do. They just don't show it the way other parents do," Nick says.

"I think you're the most mature 13-year-old I've ever met," I tell Nick.

"Thanks," he says, smiling.

I finish treating his burns and am about to go to another patient when I realize that there's no one else left to treat. I go to look for Lexie so that we can eat lunch together.

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