Subject to Change (14 page)

“You did. Sort of. You said ‘the other girls’ boyfriends.’ So…congratulations.”

“Mmmm. You’re lucky I have no complaints.”

“Yeah. I have no complaints at all. Especially because now it’s your move.” I waggled my eyebrows.

“You’re bringing that up from all those weeks ago?”

“Yep. Took me awhile, but I’m taking my move now.”

My heart swelled with happiness as I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, then his nose. “I can’t believe you got a tattoo for me,” I murmured against his neck.

“It’s a reminder for me. It’s just…about you.” Hawk smirked, kissing me one more time, and letting me tug him to his door. Hawk blew out a long, low breath. “I’ll see if I can get someone to cover for me. For that date party or whatever.”

I looped my arms lazily around his waist. I planted one more long, lingering kiss on his lips.

“No tie, no problem,” I said, not really wanting to leave. He closed his eyes, smiled, and kissed me once more on the nose before I was out of there.

The bus dropped me right in front of Children’s with three minutes to spare. I practically sprinted into the hospital and even took the stairs so I wouldn’t be late. I reported to the nurses’ station, just like I had the first week, and waited. In the TV shows about doctors, one of the doctors was always thumbing through a medical chart while they waited for something, but I’d learned the hard way that the nurses did not take kindly to stupid pre-med students messing up their charts. I stared at the clock and watched the minutes tick by. When it was three past noon, I knew something was up. Doctor O’Donnell was never late. To anything.

The only nurse at the desk was the head charge nurse, and I knew she could be kind of snarky. But I didn’t really have any choice.

“Um….have you heard…I’m just waiting for…”

The nurse looked bored, rolled her eyes, and said. “Doctor O’Donnell? She moved rounds two hours earlier today. Sent you an email?”

I just stared at her blankly. Shit. Shit shit. ’Even though it had never been expressly spoken, I could guess that completely missing rounds with Dr. O’Donnell would not be met with a ton of tolerance.

“Thanks,” I mumbled as I headed back to the elevators, already mentally composing my apology email. I needed to get better about checking it on my phone. It was just that when I was with Hawk, everything else kind of disappeared. And now…who knew if she would even let me come back to rounds or shadow her?

I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid.

The elevator doors slid open with a low sigh that made them sound as weary as I felt. I stepped toward them without even looking up and crashed headlong into the same girl I’d seen with the rolls of duct tape and storybooks a few weeks before. This time she was carrying story books, which I knocked all over the ground.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I scrambled to pick up the books.

She laughed. “It’s no big deal. You actually wouldn’t believe how much that happens.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “It’s a depressing place, I guess, and people get kind of dazed.”

“It’s Andi, right?”

She nodded and stuck out her free hand.

“I’m Joey. I’m pre-med at Temple. Doctor O’Donnell lets me shadow her sometimes. Or used to. I just missed rounds.”

Andi sucked in a breath. “Yeah, that’s rough. I’m doing some Child Life Specialist work here.”

“Is that, like, a volunteer thing?”

She laughed. “I know it looks like tons of fun, but no, it’s a career. This is my practicum, so I’m here forty hours a week. We help patients and their families deal with diagnoses and life in the hospital.”

“So, what are you majoring in? Something medical?”

“No, it’s not about the disease itself. It’s about the kid and how he or she deals with it. And the parents and siblings. There are all kinds of different situations. So my major is a double — Child Development and Family Science. Most people do something like that.” Andi leaned against the wall. “You seem interested. Most people think this is crap. Or that I’m a volunteer or a bored preschool teacher or something.”

“No, I think it’s so important. I mean…I know it is. First-hand. I’m actually kind of thinking about it.” I didn’t know where those words had come from since I hadn’t actually thought them. Still, I marveled at their truth. The moment I thought about what it would be like to do this as a job, my head spun with possibility.

“So,” Andi said, “since you missed rounds, do you want to tag along with me? See what it’s about?”

Before I’d gotten here and saw Andi again, all I’d wanted to do was go back to hanging out with Hawk. But now, as soon as she said it, hanging out with a bunch of kids who needed something solid and comforting about their hospital stay seemed like the only thing I actually wanted to be doing.

The stuff Andi had brought with her was amazing — dolls with “windows” showing their inner organs to explain to kids what was happening with their bodies, books about medical procedures, little poems to help the kids calm down when getting blood drawn or breathing with an oxygen mask. We went from room to room giving parents a break; answering their questions about medical devices and pain levels; and playing silly games with the kids, like trash can basketball. We taught them dances to songs. We served a group of siblings ice cream, and Andi led a discussion about what it felt like to have a very sick brother or sister.

I paid close attention to the faces of the kids we saw. All of them seemed better, relieved, more hopeful when we left.

That was what I wanted to do with myself — that was the effect I wanted to have on people.

Too bad that, for Doctor Josephine Daly, every patient would be a number, every condition reduced to a set of diagnoses. I’d be fighting cancer and maybe even curing it, but a big part of me wondered if I couldn’t do better work with these kids when I wasn’t wearing the white coat.

So why was I fighting so hard for the white coat at all?

I took a deep breath and got back on that elevator, eyes straight ahead. The walk from the pediatric oncology floor to Doctor O’Donnell’s office seemed shorter this time, like nothing between those two places mattered in this moment.

Thank goodness the secretary at the front desk recognized me and nodded, saying, “She’s just finishing up some paperwork. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

Yeah, I wasn’t so sure of that. I smiled my thanks and headed back to her office. My knock on the door was solid and strong. This was one place where I definitely could no longer afford to be timid or afraid of making my own decisions.

Doctor O’Donnell sat at her computer, typing notes into the office’s records program. She glanced at me briefly, then her eyes went straight back to the screen. “Come in, Josephine.”

I sat in one of the flower-upholstered chairs, my back ramrod straight. Her fingers flew over the keyboard for several long seconds before she spoke again.

“You’re losing focus.”

Her voice wasn’t angry, wasn’t accusatory. She was just stating facts. Something about the complete lack of emotion in her voice was startling to me. Maybe it was because that was exactly what Mom had said a couple weeks ago. Or maybe it was because she was absolutely right. Hawk had nothing to do with it — it was the endless homework that I didn’t understand and could never grasp, coupled with my intense discomfort whenever the conversation with a cancer patient’s parents shifted from coping mechanisms to medical jargon.

It just didn’t feel like me — didn’t feel like who I wanted to be. At all.

“Success in this field requires laser-sharp focus during all your years of school,” she went on. “The fact that you missed an email about what is perhaps the most important experience of your time in undergraduate classes tells me that this is unimportant to you.”

“It’s not unimportant to me. Not at all, Doctor O’Donnell. I can’t see myself doing anything but working with these kids. Honestly.”

“You’re an adult, Josephine, so I won’t mince words. You’re going to have to decide if pre-med is right for you or choose something different.”

“I know.”

“I had expected Doctor Daly’s daughter to come in to shadow me having already decided that this was for her.”

I had decided. I thought I had. Now, it was more like the trust fund was deciding for me.

“As for your father,” she continued, “I don’t really know what he would say to this.”

“Don’t you think he would say that even if I quit pre-med to work with these kids in another way, I was still helping people?” It was the first time I’d said those words — “quit pre-med” — out loud. It felt like a free space opened up inside me, a space that could be filled with anything.

Doctor O’Donnell sniffed out a laugh. “Sure. People who will still die slowly and painfully from cancer without the help of young, intelligent, ambitious new doctors. I’ve heard all the feel-good, kumbaya bullshit there is to hear, Miss Daly.” I startled at the curse word flying from her mouth. Maybe Doctor O’Donnell actually felt passionate about this. “The fact is, picture books and support groups don’t cure cancer, and they don’t save lives. Ever.”

That free space filled right back up again with guilt and indecision. Of course.

Only the clacking sound of Doctor O’Donnell’s keyboard filled the room for long seconds. Then she stopped at looked at me.

“Can I count on seeing you for rounds next week, Miss Daly?”

I took a deep breath and met her eyes. “No. I…” I cleared my throat and squared my shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you can. I appreciate the opportunity, but this just isn’t right for me.”

On my way down the hallway and out of Children’s, I told myself a lot of things. I reasoned I could find another doctor to shadow, stay at Temple for an extra year if I had to. I told myself that not all oncologists were like Doctor O’Donnell and that I didn’t have to be either.

But as I sat on the bus on the ride back to the KD house, the usual panic over not knowing my future that would have driven me to action under normal circumstances just sat there, whipping around inside me, looking for a place to settle and not finding anything.

I took a deep breath. I didn’t know what I would do about pre-med or the trust fund or the guilt my mom would surely lay on me or finding new shadowing possibilities. But I did know one thing: Staring something that absolutely was not right for me in the face and making a decision not to do it anymore felt so powerful, so right, that it made me want to do the same thing with every other aspect of my life.

Chapter 13

The date
party was that weekend, and I spent forever getting ready with Cat that day. Hawk had said he’d be there, and I was busy finding the perfect dress — one that everyone, my sisters and Hawk alike, would drool over. I basically got lost in my closet — I was pretty small, and these closets in the house were long and deep, with rolling doors — using my cell phone as a mini-flashlight. I emerged five minutes later, holding a black, half-lacy scrap of fabric over my head, triumphant.

Cat wrinkled her nose and peered at what I’d found. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a dress,” I replied, shaking it out and holding it up to my front. It would reach halfway down my thighs barely. “I think I wore it in high school. For a costume.”

“For what, ‘
Chicago
?’” Cat laughed.

“You know, now that you say it….yes, I think it was. But you know what? It’s a big girl’s dress, and I’m a big girl. I deserve to look hot just like anyone else.”

“Of course you do, babe. It’s just not…you.”

“Well, wait till I get it on.”

I stripped down to my bra and panties, and Cat wolf-whistled.

“Shut up,” I grumbled and blushed. “I’m so frickin’ scrawny I can’t stand it.”

“I miss being scrawny sometimes,” Cat said.

“Yeah, well, I guarantee Nate wouldn’t love it if you were a stick figure again.”

“That’s true,” Cat grinned. “Though, to be fair, I think it’s like 99 percent the boobs that he loves.”

I laughed. “Now, that’s not true. I see the way he ogles your ass.”

“Fine, 50 percent boobs and 50 percent ass. So I’m that girl. Tits and ass all the way.”

“Hey, so was Marilyn Monroe,” I said, tugging the dress down over my head.

Damn. Even I’d curved out since high school. This dress was so tight that it took some significant tugging to get it down past my hips. But when I turned and looked in the mirror, it was well worth it.

Every single curve on my body was thrown into relief by the tight, stretchy fabric, which sucked in my thinner parts and clung to the curve of my hips. I’d always thought I had a boyish figure, but this made me look like I was made of curves.

The front dipped into a pretty low “V” and the sucking-in properties of the fabric actually pushed my boobs up so you could see them swell slightly over the top.

I turned around to check out my butt in the mirror. Probably thanks to the particular material of the dress, it was lifted and rounded and looked incredible. When I added four-inch, round toe pumps, I almost looked as confidently curvy and runway-ready as Cat.

Cat sat up on the bed behind me. I saw the shock and appreciation that quickly followed on her face. “That is… Damn. You’re a blond bombshell, honey!”

“Like Marilyn?”

“Not quite,” she said, tossing a pillow at me and nearly knocking me off balance.

“Okay,” I giggled. “I should probably practice walking in these things.”

I hadn’t missed not going to date parties — or any social gatherings, really — since I’d started seeing Hawk. Spending time with him had largely replaced spending time with my friends, which was fine, since I frickin’ hated sorority recruitment more and more each year. Cold weather, spiky shoes, and smiling for hours on end wasn’t exactly my idea of a great time ever. Being a Kappa Delta was worth it for all the friendships I’d formed, but almost every girl agreed that the winter events were mostly shit.

Walking into that restaurant, though, all kinds of excitement flooded me once again. We had our date party at the same place every spring, and there were so many good memories there. Dancing with my sisters until we were so exhausted we collapsed; convincing the bartender to slip us a shot or two; making out with a date on the dance floor in a fuzzy, drunken state; and generally feeling, just for that moment, like ’we’d won the college social life lottery.

Of course, that was before my classes had become so demanding that I barely had time to speak to anyone.

Hawk had said he’d meet me at the party as soon as he could. But as the stars came out, sparkling against the dark, moonless sky, and the cocktail portion of date party ended, I’d started to doubt that he’d be able to make it at all.

At that moment, the little black sparkly purse I’d snagged from Cat’s closet started to buzz. I frantically unzipped it, not really caring whether I was chipping my manicure. I was having fun without Hawk, but I so desperately wanted to see him it was unreal.

I pulled out my phone and read,
TURN AROUND
.

My friend Kerrin elbowed me. “Hey, did you win the lottery or something? You’re grinning like an idiot.”

I barely heard her as I spun on my heel. Hawk was standing in the doorway to the restaurant looking absolutely frickin’ incredible. Same messy hair — which was essential to his gorgeousness — dark jeans; some really nice shiny shoes that must have been new; a silver button-down shirt that looked new, too; and, to top it all off, a black tie.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I did,” I said, cocking my head toward Hawk.

His mouth curled up slowly into a wide grin as I sauntered over to him, nearly tipping over on my heels. I reached him, and his hands slid around my waist as I pressed a lingering kiss, full of promise for what I was planning later, to his lips.

“Hey, babe. Have a few Jack and Cokes?” He licked his lips as he leaned back, watching me.

I had had a couple of drinks, waiting for him. I fell into the motions of partying with my friends easily. They’d always teased me about how such a small girl could hold so much liquor, and they were right — it was a total mystery. In freshman year, I’d joked about how it must have been due to my Irish genes, and after that, I’d been fed a steady diet of Jack and Cokes and Irish Car Bombs, even though I was pretty sure the Jack and Cokes weren’t so Irish.

The fact that Hawk had just tasted my mouth and guessed my drink right was an incredible turn-on. When I was around him, my whole body felt like a live wire, and something about this place, the two drinks in me, and my tiny dress and spiky heels made him that much sexier. Or maybe it made me that much sexier.

“Maybe we should get back to your place,” I said, breathing hot on his ear and pinching his butt.

“Ha!” he barked out, reaching behind him and taking my hand in his. “It was my move, and I took it.”

I stood back and picked up his tie, letting it slide through my fingers. “And you did take it. You look amazing.” Still, even as I looked at him now, none of his clothing — none of it — mattered. All I could think about was that gorgeous tattoo that stretched over his shoulder and across his back, and the delicious feel of his hands skimming over my waist.

He chuckled and pressed one more gentle, lingering kiss to my lips. “Let’s eat this dinner you paid for,” he murmured. “I’m starving.”

The growl in his voice made it sound like he was starving for me, but when he pulled back and looked at me, I realized he was serious. I was kissing him like that, begging to go back to his place, and he wanted to eat?

Then my stomach growled and my head spun a little, and I realized it wouldn’t hurt me to eat something right now either.

The dinner was held in a large room in the back of the restaurant with sparkly lights hanging overhead that matched the night sky outside. A bunch of the Kappa Delta girls dated guys from the same frat — Sigma Nu, where my ex was a brother — and they occupied one end of the long table that filled the room. The only guys I’d ever dated before Hawk had been the frat type, too, but now I didn’t quite fit in with those girls. The ones whose boyfriends were trimmed and polished and, honestly, all looked exactly the same. Same hair, same ties with ridiculous patterns that looked like their moms had picked out. Who would have guessed that my bartending boyfriend would have a greater sense of style than all of them combined?

Even if it was a weird style, I thought, smirking at the stripe of tattoo sneaking up out of his collar, imagining the whole design and the muscles it decorated. The one he’d explained to me weeks ago with a hushed voice and his hot breath against my neck.

As usual, Cat’s tall frame stuck out over the crowd. She waved one arm in the air in an arc over her head, then pointed down at the two seats she had saved for us right across from her and Nate.

I grabbed both of Hawk’s hands, tugging him behind me. “I can’t believe you haven’t met these two yet.”

“So, Cat’s your best friend, right? The model?”

I nodded, though I had to admit even I found it a little weird that I hadn’t ever really talked about Cat to Hawk. Had I even really explained it at all, or had he just picked it up?

“Yep, she just started doing runway shows again. Her boyfriend is Nate. He’s a bodybuilder. So both of them are hotter and more buff than you and I will ever be, put together.”

“Nah, you’re hotter than all the girls in this place, times infinity.” He leaned down, nipping at my earlobe.

“You’d better stop that if you don’t want me to grab you by that tie and drag you out of here.” I gave him one last sexy-Joey look before sitting down, tugging my skirt down in the process. When Hawk’s eyes traveled to my thighs, I knew he saw how close this dress was to exposing everything.

“So, guys,” I said, clearing my throat and looking at Cat and Nate. “This is Hawk. “

Cat’s eyes swept down over Hawk, and she nodded as her mouth quirked into a smile. “Hawk. I’ve heard everything about you. Literally.”

Hawk’s eyes flashed to me, and I shrugged. “Best friends, remember? Kind of comes with the territory.”

Hawk’s eyebrows went up, and he nodded. There were three forks at the settings in front of us, and he ran the tip of his finger down the middle one.

“So, Hawk,” Cat said, scooting her chair in. “That’s an interesting name. What’s it short for?

“Hawkins,” Hawk said.

“Your parents named you Hawkins? That’s kind of bad-assed.”

“Actually, they named me William. But I don’t go by Will anymore.”

I thought of what it would be like to call him that — tame and soft. Gentle and sweet.

“Has he met Mom yet?” Nate asked.

Over winter break, I’d taken Nate and Cat home for a good meal once or twice, and Nate and my mom had fallen in love. He always got this wistful smile on his face when he said how normal she was. Cat had explained to me that, even though he loved his mom, she wasn’t exactly the crafting, homemade-dinner-every-night type. Nate and Mom didn’t flirt or anything — that would have been super-weird — but you could tell she absolutely loved him. Maybe she wished I was dating a guy like him.

But Mom’s wishes were for Josephine, the future doctor. I was the one who was special to Dad, and if she had to lose me, it would be to a cause Dad wanted. To a boyfriend who fit her idea of who a med student dated. A clean-cut, polite boy — probably one who grew up going to Catholic Masses and country clubs.

“Nope, haven’t taken him home yet.”

Hawk shifted in his seat. When I didn’t say anything else, he jerked his head up and asked, “So, did you guys come to this thing last year?”

Cat laughed and explained that actually she and Nate had only been together for about half a year. Even though you couldn’t tell it by the way they finished each other’s sentences and looked at each other adoringly — it seemed like they’d been together forever.

“What’s your major?” Cat asked.

Hawk’s hand flew to the back of his head. “I…uh… It’s complicated. I don’t really have one yet.”

Thankfully, the wait staff started to bring our salads out, cutting through the sudden weirdness. Hawk sat back and breathed a sigh as we spent a few minutes eating and wondering whether we’d be able to go back to the bar after dinner.

But then, Nate started up again. He was a sweet guy, but sometimes he didn’t catch hints very well. “So no major yet, huh? Joey, are you into jailbait now?”

“Actually, no. Hawk’s 23. He’s just…going part-time for now.”

“Yeah, I’ve been so busy with other stuff I haven’t actually thought that much about it,” Hawk explained, taking a big drink of water.

“Oh yeah? Play sports or something?”

But even as Nate asked it, you could tell he knew that wasn’t the answer. Kids who played sports at Temple had to be full-time. Everyone knew that.

“Actually, no.” Hawk leaned back in his chair, putting distance between us. “My dad died, and left me a bar to manage and a pain-in-the-ass little sister to keep tabs on. And the bar’s about to go under unless I do something about it soon, so I don’t really have time for normal shit like a major or really even stuff like this.” He gestured around the room at the entire party.

Cat and Nate just stared, looking blindsided. I couldn’t say I blamed them.

“The bar thing really is cool,” I said, after a second of trying to find my voice. “And we’re making it cooler. Well, he is. I thought he was being a douche when we first met — remember I told you all about that, Cat? — and announced our project in front of the whole class. Because I was thinking we’d just do something about my future practice.”

Cat nodded, slipping a bemused glance at Hawk. “Right. You told me that was the only way the class wouldn’t be a waste.”

“But I found out that he took the class because he actually cared about the subject matter.”

Nate laughed. “Imagine that. That’s cool, man. So you have plans for the bar?”

Hawk wiped his mouth and kind of let the napkin fall on his plate. I bristled a tiny bit, but his softening expression kept me from reaching over to move it to the side. “Yeah. For starters, when I save enough, I’m turning it into a restaurant. I have a chicken spice rub that would have put this shit to shame.”

Nate reached out to slap hands with him, and some magical guy-language turned it into a handshake and fist bump. “Tell me about it. This was ridiculous. I could roast circles around this whole meal. Hey, at least our girls paid for it, right?”

“Definitely. I could have done ten times as well for half as much.”

Cat and I smiled and shook our heads. The fact that Hawk was man-bonding with anyone made me all warm and fuzzy.