[COMPLETE]
Emerson Castell loves facts.
Enjoying the how and why of everything, she never fails to let her obsession seep into every aspect of her life, including her relationships - or lack thereof.
Leo Caruso is no stranger to a busy social life...
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"Mom, do we actually have to go?"
After a rather short school day on Friday, I found myself in my mom's car on the way to the doctor's office. For the first time since around the beginning of high school, I didn't yawn once the whole day.
"Em, I already made the appointment. So, we're going. Why the second thoughts?" She turned at the blink of the green stoplight and glanced over at me.
"I actually slept."
"Really?"
I nodded, twiddling my thumbs and wincing at my ugly, cracked nail polish. "A full seven hours. You know, life is so much clearer when you add in a couple REM cycles."
"Oh Emerson," she said, rolling her eyes lightly. "How'd you manage to do it?"
I shrugged. "I don't know, stress less?"
What I really meant to say was I don't know, have a Leo?
"Well, hopefully, this is a step in the positive direction from now on, but I'd like to at least hear a doctor's opinion. What if you have a brain tumor?"
"Jesus, Mom, I'd rather not think about that," I threw back, my gut twisting with worry.
We pulled up at the small clinic about ten minutes later. I carefully navigated my way to the door over random patches of ice and slush, avoiding staining my suede boots. The inside smelled like disinfectant and nauseating flowery perfume, likely from the receptionist. I got myself comfortable in a chair as we waited and pulled out my phone, finding a text from Leo.
This was the moment my mom decided to poke her head to the left and peek at my phone, entirely reading Leo's message which said, "When are you gonna send me them already?" Her eyebrows narrowed, and she pursed her lips lightly, as she clearly didn't understand the context of the message.
I cleared my throat. "Math notes, Mom, math notes. He missed class today." We had an hour-and-a-half delay from the icy roads this morning, and Leo decided to come just for last period.
"Right." She nodded. "Okay."
After some more awkward waiting, a nurse called us over. She led us to a small room at the end of the hallway, where we did even more waiting until the doctor finally made an appearance.
"Sorry for being a little late," she began, closing the door behind her and turning to us with a tired smile. "This time of year it seems like everyone is getting sick; I've been pulled left and right all day."
"It's fine, don't worry," Mom said, crossing her legs and darting her eyes between me and Dr. Falkner. She was a friendly woman somewhere in her mid-forties who dressed straight out of a J. Crew catalogue. She flipped through her chart and turned to us once more, leaning against the exam table.
"So, Emerson, you've been having some sleep troubles." I nodded, though funny enough, today I finally looked awake and refreshed. "I'd like to start with a background. How long has this been going on?"
