A terrorist attack takes place in Canada during the widely loved politician's wedding. The horrible incident leaves hundreds of people dead, but the politician's son survives. Luckily, he meets a gorgeous med student in the hospital of who he just...
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july 3rd toronto
IT WAS DURING DINNER, it was during Elisa's goodbye, it was whenever he looked me into the eyes. My stomach would tangle itself into a knot, whereas my consciousness lost track of the wheel that steered my brain, causing my proper hearing to turn into indistinct sounds, and my sight to be him and only him. The worst thing was that my eyes just weirdly automatically rolled until he was in my sight – just admit it Nova, you couldn't stop looking at him. Hart had made a mess of my brain, mainly because I didn't understand why I constantly wanted him around me, and when he wasn't, he'd be swimming around in my mind with his precious smile. It means you like him. But that was impossible considering the fact that I knew him for what – four days?
"What are you thinking about?" Barbara threw the last toy on the nicely cleaned up oncology department floor into the basket and let out a relieved sigh afterwards. I honestly couldn't stand her – her long, blonde hair, the face any girl would kill for, the sugarcoated voice, and her genuine personality. Jealousy raged through my body whenever I caught the slightest glimpse of her while jealousy was the most despised feeling by me. I didn't need to be jealous of anyone, my life was perfectly fine, and I had absolutely nothing to complain, but when I saw her getting along with literally everyone, I couldn't help but feel stupid.
"It's nothing." I got up from the floor, and stretched my back. We had been cleaning up together ever since Elisa had left the hospital and trust me, those children had an extremely amazing ability for making a huge mess. I looked down at my watch, and realized it was twelve after midnight. "Shit, I had promised Hart to come by. Do you think he's asleep already?"
Barbara sat on top of the counter, rocking her legs back and forth with her hands underneath her butt, weirdly grinning at me. "Hart Feingold, huh. He probably doesn't want me to tell you, but he came by last night to ask me where you were. It was almost as if he regretted coming up to me to ask that immediately. I think he stayed awake until very late, because he came to have breakfast at three in the afternoon, then he hung around here until you came."
I completely ignored the butterflies in my stomach. Why would someone put that effort into seeing me? What if he wasn't doing okay and I just wasn't there? "You told him that he could walk on crutches."
"No, I didn't?"
Son of a bitch.
"If you don't mind, Barb, I'm going to talk to him now."
"Don't get too mad at him," she laughed, "he learned how to walk on crutches all by himself."
I shook my head, smiling at the thought. "He's so stubborn."
"Imagine dating a guy who does exactly what you say," Barb yawned, "even you would get bored, miss control freak."
My mother used to call me control freak all the time, and I was, but I was convinced that it wasn't a bad trait considering the control I had to take in a hospital. If one of the patients didn't take their medicine right on time, I'd go crazy, and if I had the slightest idea of my flat iron still being on after I had checked five times, I'd still go back into the bathroom to check it for the sixth time. And planning; yes, planning was my second name.
