Page 88 of Fall Fake-Out

“I’m sure they are.”

He nods like we’ve covered everything important. “Alright. Let’s see what’s going on with you.”

The exam is…mortifying.

Not dramatic. Not detailed. But invasive enough to make me seriously consider never speaking to Daryl Harper or his children ever again.

When he’s done, he steps out. “Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll be right back.”

I stand, mentally preparing for the worst.

Wade

LIFE is weird.

One minute, you’re transporting pallets, changing a tire, and the next, you’re sitting in a clinic, waiting for your fake girlfriend’s diagnosis.

I check the clock. Fifteen minutes have passed. I look back toward the hallway where Ari disappeared. No sign of her.

Five more minutes pass.

Then ten.

That’s when I make the mistake of opening Google and typing in Ari’s symptoms and immediately regret it. Google believes Ari has approximately seventeen terminal illnesses.

I close my phone.

Open it again.

Close it.

This is ridiculous.

She’s probably fine, but I keep checking the hallway anyway. Waiting. Watching. Worrying. And that’s when an uncomfortable thought slips in.

If Sadie texted me that she’d found blood in the toilet, I’d be worried.

If my mom texted me, I’d be worried.

If Ryan texted me, I’d be worried.

But Ari isn’t family.

So why does this feel like family-level worry?

I lean back in my chair, hating how much I care right now.

I never care about the women I date. It sounds harsh, but it’s true. I’m the fun guy. Not the serious guy.

So, why then, do I care so much about the well-being of my fake girlfriend?

Dangerous territory, Stevenson.

Very dangerous territory.

Ari

WHEN Dr. Harper comes back in, he doesn’t look concerned, which is confusing. But maybe that’s good bedside manners. He’s trained to stay calm under pressure.