The Wrong Picking Number

CHAPTER 3

MONROE

As I walked into the sterile white walls of the medical office, I could feel the fatigue weighing me down. Another double shift here and at the catering company yesterday, followed by a late-night class, and I was beyond drained—physically and mentally.

But I had no other choice.

I'd had to wait a month after getting to Haven to take my GED test, wanting to make sure I was eighteen and the Detweilers had no legal claim over me before I did anything that left a paper trail. The shelter had been crowded. But it was clean...and safe. So I'd been okay. I'd gotten a job at another grocery store, but I hadn't been able to save up enough to actually move out of the shelter until one of the staff members had heard about a job as a receptionist in a medical office.

It had been a year since I'd moved into my new place. Between Tres Medical and the catering company, I did okay. But add in attending community college, and it was exhausting.

I greeted my coworker, Katie, with a forced smile as I fidgeted in my scrubs that everyone had to wear, trying to keep up the facade of being cheerful despite my exhaustion. She was one of the popular ones at the office, always eager to socialize and make plans. Living a carefree lifestyle that I could only dream of, a life I could never afford.

As the day went on, my workload piled up, and my energy levels dwindled. I was barely keeping my eyes open as I went through the motions, taking patient histories, scheduling appointments, and doing whatever the doctors needed. I also had a paper to write tonight before class started. Classes at the local community college weren't glamorous, but every credit got me closer to my dreams.

I sat in the cramped break room of the office, exhaustion seeping through my bones. Only a few hours left. I could do anything for a few hours, right?

It seemed to be what I told myself every day. And kind of like when someone said, "just one step at a time", thinking they were being helpful...the words rang hollow.

I was nineteen, and yet, I felt like I was a hundred year old bag of bones.

Because the day just had to get harder, Kevin, one of the doctors in the practice, walked in then. He had an annoying smirk on his face that he thought was sexy and cool, but actually had him resembling a demented clown. The side part combover and the smirk together had that effect. A pang of annoyance flashed through me as I braced myself for what was to come. He was always trying to flirt with me, despite my obvious disinterest.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said, leaning against the counter with a cocky grin. "You look tired. Why don't you let me take you out and help you relax?"

I forced a polite smile, while my mind continued to race with irritation. Didn't he understand that I was juggling two jobs and night classes just to make ends meet? I'd mentioned it every single time he'd asked me out. I didn't have time for his shit.

"Thanks, but I'm really tired," I replied, trying to keep my tone civil. "I have a long evening ahead of me at the catering company after this, and then I've got night classes."

Kevin's grin faded, replaced by a look of disappointment. "Come on, babe, don't be like that. We could have some fun together," he persisted, moving closer. "Why don't you just take the rest of the day off?"

Of course, he would say that. He was a trust fund baby, and I was still shocked he'd somehow made it through medical school. I had a sneaking suspicion his family had padded quite a few pockets in order for him to do it. If not for the other doctors here stepping in, this place would've closed long ago because of malpractice claims.

I felt my patience wearing thin. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm really not interested. As you know," I said firmly, hoping he would take the hint and back off.