Style // 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘

25.

Monday

I stare mindlessly at my computer screen, watching all the dental programmes either shut down or malfunction as they close. The mechanical whirring of the chair lifting into the air poisons my ears, and the aspirator gargling down the cleansing fluid from another surgery creates a tone-deaf harmony.

"Is there anything you want out for the morning Emma?" Andrea asks, reaching into a cupboard.

"A gun?" Purposely emphasising my sarcasm.

The nurse giggles, shaking her head at me. "Is that for the patients, or yourself?"

"Both." I smile, turning off the computer after it's finished faffing with the applications.

In my late Grandma's words, what a shitter. That means- to put it simply- what an absolute mess. Today was a horrible day to start the week, along with the miserable weather and nagging patients that make me dig my fingernails into my palms. A late night sleep tops off all my problems like a cherry on top!

I'm being dramatic, the Monday blues are definitely blue-ing. If you class the start of the week as Sunday, then my week has been amazing. If I hadn't gone out with Elliot last night, I would've spent the final hours of my weekend doing nothing. Wasted time on my phone, barely socialising with Stella. Maybe done some housework, cooked a half-assed meal and gone to bed. Having a drink or two- I might have lost count at three- whilst getting to know Elliot was far more fun than I imagined.

"Do you want me to help with anything?" I offer as Andrea continues to close our surgery. "I can take the bins out on my way?"

"I'm just about to do them now, do you mind giving the surfaces a wipe over?" Andrea asks, gesturing to all the sides and desktops.

"Yep, that's fine, I'll have it done by the time you're back."

I pull the latex-free gloves over my hands as Andrea leaves, and her space is swiftly followed by Stella. She leans onto the doorframe with a smirk, waiting for more details about last night. The part where Charles text me- and called me- is yet is be told. I doubt I'll tell her. I never tell the whole truth.

"Did you tell Andrea about your midnight kiss?" Stella asks, raising her eyebrows. "Or have you purposely spoke about her today to avoid the topic?"

I sigh, snatching the wipes up and tugging a couple from the tub. "I didn't tell her."

"Why not?" Stella groans, rolling her eyes. "She'd love to hear it!"

"We're in a professional setting, I don't want to gossip around patients!" I defend myself. "Why would I tell everyone when I've only been on one date?"

"Why wouldn't you tell people about a first date!" Stella repeats my statement with a twist, throwing her arms in the air. "I told everyone about Mark as soon-"

"Emma?"

Andrea shyly peaks her head around the corner, nervous to interrupt our conversation. I stop wiping down the shiny surfaces, standing up straight to show her I'm listening.

"There's someone waiting for you outside." Her faces blushes right red as she tells me, her eyes wide.

"Are they mad?" I question, curious as to why she's so flustered. "Who was it, do you know their name?"

Andrea glances to Stella, then clears her throat. "I might be wrong, but it looked like Charles Leclerc?"

I guess I'm telling the full story to Stella now! Great! That's just what I want! Way to make my Monday even better! If Stella had a super power to shoot daggers from her eyes, I'd have thousands of holes pierced all over my body. Stella's relaxed posture against the doorframe turns rigid, her jaw clenching as she waits for an explanation.

"I'll go down to him now." I keep my eyes away from my best friend as I rip off the gloves, dumping them in the bin with the wipes.

"Let me know how it goes." Stella comments dryly as I walk past.

Stella's smile is rotten, plastered onto her face as she remains professional. Behind her pearly whites is a ticking time bomb, which will explode straight after my conversation with Charles is done.

Am I mad? How am I supposed to feel about this? He's turned up at work, in public? Is he trying to prove a point? Maybe his weekend with Charlotte didn't go as well as he planned?

"Oh, Emma!" Deb, the manager of our practice, catches my attention from the reception desk. "I got your message about the holiday request, that's fine."

Holiday request? Oh, forget it, I'll talk to her about it after! I give a brief smile, marching into the elevator and jamming the button to the ground floor. I'm such a mess, I've still got my scrubs on! My hair has been tied up in a bun all day, the smaller, more inconvenient strands of hair falling out and standing in different directions. I probably smell of mint and chemicals, which isn't something you want to smell on a person.

The elevator doors open, hesitation gripping at my ankles. It take a moment to gather the courage to walk, as if I'm facing my biggest fear. To come face to face with the man who ghosted me for a week. I'm like a dog to a bone, crawling back to him as soon as he asks.

I push open the lobby doors, the icy air being sucked inside like a vacuum. Charles leans against a wall, his hood up and his phone beaming back in his face. I don't have to speak to let him know I'm here, his sixth sense catching his eye. His phone slips into his pocket, what would've been a smile full of light and sweetness looks clouded in the foggy moonlight. Clouded with lies.

"I missed you." He says, wrapping his arms around me. "I'm sorry I missed your texts and calls, I was so busy."

"It's fine." Is all I can get out. "Why are you here?"

"I told you, I'll see you after work?" Charles let's me go, keeping a soft grip on my shoulders. "You smell of the dentist!"

"Funnily enough, I work in a dental practice." The joke sounds so obviously forced that it's not even funny. "I thought I'd have a chance to go home and get ready."

"What about Stella?" Charles shrugs, taking his hands off me and putting them in his coat pockets.

"Stella knows." The truth comes out blunt and quick, before I could think about it. "There were rumours you were seeing someone at home during the break, Stella heard it from Mark."

Charles bites his teeth together, giving me an awkward stare. What's he more worried about, the fact he's out in public with the girl he's rumoured to be with, or the girl he took to the paddock hearing the rumours?

"Anyway, let me go inside and get changed, and talk to the manager about holiday time, then I'll be-"

"Was it accepted?" Charles interrupts.

What? "How did you know?"

"I requested it for you, for a surprise." Charles says.

His eyes spark under the dim streetlights. It almost looks like guilt, but he's excited to tell me what he's done. I shift on my feet, my patience growing lower and lower as I find myself getting colder and colder.

"A surprise?" I have to milk it out of him, crossing my arms. "For what?"

"For Suzuka." Charles smirks, his childish grin getting wider.

"I want you to come to the race with me."