Too Keen For Me

Chapter 3: Aren't From Here

The ER towered in front of us, reminding me of all the terrible things that happened here. A lump appeared in my throat, as tears welled in my eyes the longer I stared. The memories that happened here hit me like explosions, the debris ripping into my flesh. It had been almost a full year since I was last here. Out of all the hospitals in the area, Miles went to the one my father died in.

I looked at Miles with fury, and pain, as he turned the car off. He wouldn't understand why I didn't want to go in. But instead of protesting, I followed him out of the car.

Here we are, we can't go back now. I just needed to keep it together.

As we walked through the glass automatic doors of the ER, my breath hitched.

Not noticing my work up, Miles said, "I'll check you in."

Through my emotional state, I rose an eyebrow. The lump in my throat dissolved as anger turned my cheeks hot. "Do you think I'm not capable of signing in myself?" I snapped. "How could you sign me in if you know nothing about me?"

"Well, your right hand is messed up. I thought this would be easier." He shrugged.

"But what if I was left-handed?"

He paused in thought. "Are you?"

"No," I mumbled in defeat.

He chuckled, making me angrier. "Fine, then it's settled, you can tell me what to write. Do we have a deal?"

I chewed on his words for a quick moment, knowing this was probably the best option. There was no way I would use my right hand, and no one could read anything with my left, so Miles would have to help.

We walked to the front desk as a nurse smiled at Miles widely. "Hi, Miles."

Wow, first name, I'm impressed. Questions about Miles filled my mind like water fills a tub.

"I'm checking Isla in. She messed up her hand in a skateboarding accident."

"Such a Good Samaritan you are," she gushed.

Good Samaritan my butt. She clearly was interested in him for a reason I didn't understand. Yes, he was handsome with his tanned skin and lean build, but he also pushed me off my board, so he wasn't an angel.

She quickly put some documents together, then handed him a clipboard.

"How does that lady know you?" I asked him as we found a seat in the nearly empty ER waiting room.

Miles sat down next to me and his face twisted up. "Why did you hesitate to leave the car once we arrived?"

I shook my head as I clenched my left hand into a fist. We didn't know each other; he had no right asking me such personal questions. He was a stranger. If I wasn't in so much pain, I would walk right out these doors, never to return. "Touché," I said, as I looked at the papers. "My full name is Isla Anne Maas."

He nodded as he jotted it down.

"No, it's Maas, with two a's," I corrected his scribble. "And my mother, her name is Deb. This is her phone number." I showed him my mother's contact information on my phone.

His hands flew over the paperwork as if this wasn't his first time filling it out. Before I knew it, the paperwork was completed and he was at the front desk chatting with the nurse.

He casually leaned against the desk and chuckled with the lady like they were friends. He then looked at me then smiled as if we were friends. We weren't, and I refused to smile.

Time passed slowly as I tried to convince myself it was fine to be here. Finally, they called my name. I stood up from my chair and Miles looked at me as if making sure I wasn't too injured to stand, then followed me through the doors.