The Psychopath Maker

Chapter Forty-One

"Don't get it wet." The close-cropped woman ordered as she dried her hands on the faded tri-color towel. "Don't stick objects in it and keep it elevated. We're all done here. The technician rose from her seat.

Isabeth rubbed her hand over the sung fiberglass cast. The ridged grooves in the cast made her slightly giggle.

The technician stopped collecting the plastic wrap and cotton clippings littered on the tile floor, "You need to get back to your room." The technician dropped the trash in a white bucket. "That Vicodin they gave you is going to lay you out pretty soon."

As Isabeth walked down the sparse hospital hallway she watched her fingers as she wiggled them. Her powder blue nail polish looked like a swimming pool on a summer day. She scratched at her neck with the other hand. The strap of her sling had already begun to itch the crook of her neck. The feeling of ants playing upon her pores didn't stop so she pulled the strap over her head and took her casted arm out the sling.

"You need that on," Benny instructed. "Especially for the first night."

Isabeth dropped the sling on the countertop of the nurses' station. She looked at him peculiarly as he sat relaxed in the rolling chair behind the station, "What are you doing?"

"Working." He said holding up a clipboard. "We may all have trust funds but we all don't get a stipend."

Isabeth frowned, "That sucks. I don't know what I'd do without my nine thousand every month."

"Exist," Benny told as he went back to his task determining which patient in the waiting room was next based on the severity of their ailments. "I mean...its not like we have it hard here. We have room and board, chef-prepared meals, and a campus that thrives our minds."

"Okay wise one." She flipped her phone in her hand. "So are you going to Brittany's Memorial tomorrow." Benny didn't stop flipping through the files. "Finals are next week and we can't go to her funeral so Gavin's putting together a little thing to remember her."

"Brittany. Brittany Nishimura." Benny stopped going through the files and focused on her. "I'll pass."

"Don't you want to express your condolences?"

"No."

"Don't be cold."

"I'm not." He tapped his pen on the desktop. "I'm being real. She hated me. Why would I express my condolences to the person that started a petition titled and I quote 'The People that Hate Benny and wants that Lunatic to get off campus.''

"That's a long title." Isabeth laughed but he didn't so she stopped.

He looked back at the clipboard but work was the furthest thing on his mind. "She was a campus beauty that hated me and got everyone on campus to hate me."

Isabeth sat her phone into the sling as she watched him write something on a chart. "Well, in my opinion, I'm a beauty and for what it's worth... I don't hate you."

He looked up at her and she smiled as their eyes connected.

"Isa! You ready?" Troy yelled standing at the end of the hall in front of the hospital's entrance.

Isabeth held up her hand to Troy then looked back at Benny, who was back at work. "Benjamin." The utterance of his whole name brought his eyes back to her. "I think you should go...to the memorial. It'll be good closure." She grabbed her sling and phone off the countertop.

"Text me that you got home safe." The words fell out of his mouth without him mulling over them. It was the first time he wasn't overthinking.

"I don't have your number." She said.

He took her phone and quickly typed. "There." He handed her the phone back. "It's under Norman Bates."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "I'm changing that.... just so you know."

"Oh." He sat back down. "I know."

Should Benny go to Brittany's Memorial?