Page 9 of Fractured Heart

Just before the examination door clicks shut, Tate halts its progress with one sneakered foot. “I’ll wait for you just outside, Roonie.”

The ice around my heart slowly melts, leaving a warm glow in its place.

Dr. MacAulay closes the door and crosses the room to her laptop. “Can you spell your full name for me?”

“Roonie Hill,” I recite, letter by letter, as my gaze moves around the small, sterile room. Everything is a lot nicer than at the hospital or in a regular doctor’s office. The walls are a pristine, untouched white, and the examination table I’m sitting on looks brand new. If you don’t count Tate’s muddy footprints, the floor is so clean it sparkles.

“And Roonie is short for?” Dr. MacAulay stares at me expectantly.

“Nothing. It’s just Roonie.”

I shift uncomfortably on the examination table. I hope Dr. MacAulay doesn’t ask me any more questions or notice that not all my bruises are from the forest. At least she’s just a campus doctor. She probably won’t even care.

“Can I see your student ID, Miss Hill?” she asks.

“Oh, I…” I freeze. I don’t have a student ID. I’m not even a student here. I’m probably not even supposed to be at the campus health center!

What if I get charged for the appointment? I only have the twenty bucks, which may not even be enough to cover the bandage and disinfectant Faye gave Tate. What if I tell Dr. MacAulay I can’t pay for this visit and she calls security? I could get arrested! Then, Father would have to come to get me, and…

I scramble off the examination table in a panic, pain reverberating through my ribs, and I let out a whimper. Then, I take a few steps and my sneakers squish and squelch against the marble floor. I shudder at the uncomfortable feeling of walking in wet socks.

“Where are you going?” Dr. MacAulay demands, rushing toward me. “I haven’t had a chance to look at you.”

“I—I have to go home.” I reach for the doorknob.

“This will only take a few minutes, Miss Hill. I’d like to make sure you’re not seriously injured. Now, please, have a seat.”

I hesitate, but Dr. MacAulay shoots me a no-nonsense look, and I quickly obey. I sit back on the examination table, my heart racing double-time.

“Now, your student number?” Dr. MacAulay returns to her laptop.

“I don’t have one,” I mutter. “I-I’m not actually a student here.”

“I see,” Dr. MacAulay nods. “Since Tate Green is a student, I’m sure I can make an exception.”

“Thank you.” My shoulders sag in relief.

“Now, he mentioned you had a bad fall?”

I nod.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I slipped on some mud. Just outside campus.” I shrug, trying to make it sound like it was no big deal.

“Did you hit your head when you fell?”

I nod.

“Alright. Let me do some tests. It doesn’t look like anything’s broken, but we should check just in case. And make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

The tests take about five minutes. Dr. MacAulay quickly determines nothing’s broken, but she seems worried about my difficulty concentrating. It’s not my strong suit on a good day and it doesn’t really help that I keep thinking about Tate.

I wish I could explain all that to Dr. MacAulay, but I’m too embarrassed. Especially when he might be able to hear us from the other side of the door…assuming he didn’t change his mind and leave.

“It doesn’t look like you have a concussion,” Dr. MacAulay finally says, taking the stethoscope from around her neck. “Can you lift up your sweater? I’d like to check your breathing.”

I completely forget about the bruises until she touches my ribs with cold fingers, making me gasp.