Heart's Key

On Fridays, shifts always seemed to last for eternity. I didn't know why, really. Maybe it's because you knew that you're just hours away from the exhilarating weekend, or maybe it is because you are so tired from an overly deteriorating week, that the seconds turn to minutes, and minutes turn to days.

I - Dr. Melanie Carrows - worked at St. John's Animal Clinic, in Newark, New Jersey.

Ever since I was little kid, I always wanted to work with animals, to save their lives, or just to make sure that someone's loved pet is in perfect health. I loved my profession and wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Every Friday was the same for me. I got up around five in the morning, came to work, and left around eleven at night, unless there was an emergency. At home my two beautiful dogs - Buster and Rusty - greeted me as soon as I came through the door. It's safe to say that my life was complete. I have everything that I had ever wanted and needed; a career, a home that I could call my own, and amazing friends.

"Melanie?"

I looked up from the paperwork in front of me to meet Dr. Groven's kind, but never less exhausted, blue eyes, framed by rectangular spectacles. "Yes?"

"Can you do me a favor?" he asked me, fatigue evident in his voice.

"Sure," I nodded, feeling sorry that the balding, fifty year old man had to spend his night at the clinic instead of his rightful place; at home with his wife three and children.

"Can you take a look at the Ramenstain's file for me? Beth called and said that Matthew's play is starting in half an hour. I would examine it myself, but I promised him I'd be there."

"Of course," I replied, smiling.

"Oh, thank you! I owe you one," he swiftly placed the manilla file folder on the counter, and with a gust of cold air, he opened the front door and was gone in the murky, September night.

Sighing, I looked around the deserted waiting room. The old brass clock above the magazine table read 10:49 PM, which meant that there were only eleven minutes left until I could close this place down and head on home.

To make time pass, I took out a compact mirror and started to examine my long, black hair, which was adorned with purple streaks. Just like my taste in music, my hair was always different and unpredictable to other people, which made it even more amusing.

Suddenly, the front door flew open, making me jump in my chair with fright. Still shaking from the shock, I stood up to greet a young man, maybe two or three years older than me. His sparkling, hazel eyes were wide and scared, and he clutched a small, golden-colored puppy to his chest.

"Doctor? I need a doctor!" he practically screamed in a slightly breaking voice.

I took a big breath, ready to calm him down. "Yes? I'm Dr. Carrows. What's the matter?"

"It's Jersey," he told me frantically, pushing his black fringe away from his handsome face with his free hand. "I got home from school, and she was in this state!"

I looked over at Jersey. She was a Golden Retriever, only a couple of months old. Unlike their usual playful state, her ears were drooping, her beautiful brown eyes were dull, and her nose was dry. All of those signs pointed on a disaster ready to happen.

"Come this way, please," I picked up a clipboard, indicating with my chin that the he and Jersey should follow me towards the examination room.

He nodded and started walking a few footsteps behind me, Jersey still secured in his arms.

We came inside a plain, white room, with cabinets full of random medication lining the almost bare walls. Here and there you would see a poster of some animal, crookedly hanging on for dear life, the edges frayed with age. Pressed against the left wall of the room was a metallic table which was used to check over people's cherished pets, making sure that their companions were in perfect health.

"Good girl, Jersey," I patted the Golden Retriever on the head after the man put her on the table. Bending so I could look into her chocolate colored eyes, I whispered, "I'm going to make sure that you'll be okay."

Straightening up, I turned around to hand Jersey's owner the clipboard with an impressive amount of paperwork on it. "Can you fill these out, please? It's required."

"Sure," he nodded, extending his own, tattooed hand forwards.

Our fingers touched for a second, and the spot where his skin briefly touched mine felt pleasantly warm. Surprised, I looked up, only to meet his captivating hazel eyes studying me with wonder.

"Erm. Jersey. Right," I mumbled somewhat dazed, turning back towards the small, sick animal. "I'm going to take a look at her now."

Focusing all my attention at the puppy in front of me, I began to study her from every angle.

"It's a good thing you guys were open," I heard his smooth voice behind me, followed by the sound of pen scratching against paper. "Every other place I've gone to was closed. I usually wouldn't come here, I live in Belleville."

"I was about to close up before you came in," I admitted, tilting Jersey's chin so she would look at me. "We close at eleven."

The scratching of the pen stopped, replaced by a panicked voice. "You don't have to be anywhere, do you?"

I turned around to take in the man's slouched form. "Don't worry about it. Done?"

Nodding he handed me the clipboard, and I noticed how the left side of his lip and right side of his nose were pierced, the light from the ceiling bouncing off the two shiny, metal rings.

"Well, Mr, uh," I scanned the clipboard that he gave me, "Iero, I fi-"

"Frank," he interrupted me, crossing his arms across his chest stubbornly.

"Um, right," I smiled, just now realizing how perfectly his black hair framed his gorgeous face. "I figured out what's what's wrong with Jersey."

Almost like she knew that Frank and I were talking about her, Jersey lifted up her head from her cris-crossed paws and gave a low whine, making Frank jump from the chair that he was sitting in and run over to her side attentively.

"She has a slight fever, induced by the cut on her paw," I continued, filling in some paperwork.

"A cut?" Frank repeated, confusion lacing his voice.

"Yes," I confirmed, coming next to him and Jersey and gingerly lifting up her front, left paw. "See?"

He leaned in to analyze what I was talking about. "Oh. I wonder how she got that..."

"Did you take her outside sometime in the past three or four days?" I tried to be helpful.

He bit on his lip ring, still examining the paw. "Um, no. Wait! Never mind...Yes! Mikey!"

I raised an eyebrow, running a hand through my hair. "Huh?"

"My roommate Mikey," Frank explained, meeting my green eyes with his hazel ones, making my heart skip a beat. "He might have taken her outside."

"That would explain why the cut got infected so severely," I reasoned, walking towards one of the many cabinets that lined the wall. "I'm going to give Jersey a shot that should reduce her fever. I don't know how well it's going to work, so you will have to either wait here or come back in one hour."

"I'm going to wait here," Frank said, his eyes still on Jersey.

I nodded and started to get the syringe ready.

Twenty minutes after I injected Jersey, the medicine still hadn't taken affect. From time to time I would stand up from the chair that was across the room from Frank's, and walk over to the sick puppy to check on her progress.

"No luck?" Frank asked me, worry etched in his voice, after another one of my failed attempts.

I shook my head sadly, coming back to my chair. "It's a good and a bad sign, though. The good is that her fever isn't getting any higher, and the bad is-"

"-that she's not getting any better," he finished for me, staring at the white wall.

"It will be okay," I reassured him, standing up and pulling my chair up to the table where Jersey laid. "I'm not going to let anything happen to her."

For another five minutes we sat in silence. I was petting Jersey on the head, while Frank was watching my fingers run through her fur.

"How did you get into this business?" he asked me suddenly. "No offense, but you look a bit young to be a doctor."

I look up to find that now instead of his dog, he was watching my face. His hazel eyes seemed to shine with radiance, lighting up the whole room.

Gulping, I looked down. "None taken. I was home schooled, so I got my high school diploma at fifteen. Since I always loved animals, I decided to dedicate my life to helping them. Six years that it took me to get my diploma from Rutgers was definitely worth it. I'm doing something that I love."

"Wow," Frank gave me an impressed look, uncrossing his arms. "Six years? That's a long time. But I guess it's required in medicine."

I nodded and continued to stroke Jersey.

"So when did you graduate?"

"Last year."

"Really?" His eyebrows rose up. "Maybe I've seen you around, then. I'm at Rutgers two years now."

I looked up, ceasing the fluid motion of my fingers through the puppy's fur, causing Jersey to whine in protest. Frank and I laughed, and I started to stroke her golden fur once more.

"What are you majoring in?" I asked politely.

"Business," Frank replied somewhat sourly. "I'm on scholarship. Suits, ties, and briefcases are my Plan B. Plus going to school makes my Mom happy, so whatever."

I started to scratch Jersey behind her ears, causing her nuzzle my arm. "What's your Plan A? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"Not at all. Music," his voice was starting to get passionate with every syllable. "It's in my blood. I just left Pencey Prep - a band in which I was lead vocals - so I could join My Chemical Romance. They're this amazing band that my roommate and his brother are part of. I didn't see Pencey Prep going anywhere, and My Chemical Romance needed another guitarist, so I kinda said 'Fuck it all' and did what I wanted, you know?"

I smiled. "Yeah. Rock and roll lifestyle or college? I wonder which one would win."

He grinned and leaned his head back against the wall. "Yeah, but there's a downside, though. When we go touring, Jersey has no place to stay since my roommate is in the band as well, I don't have a girlfriend, and my Mom is not that found of animals."

"Your friends?"

"No way in hell am I leaving her with them," he replied good naturally. "They can't take care of themselves, never mind a dog."

I laughed checked Jersey's temperature. It was going down slightly. "I know how you feel. I wouldn't leave my two dogs with my friends either."

"What are their names? The dogs, not your friends," Frank continued smiling at his own joke, and his smile literally took my breath away. The guy was gorgeous.

"Buster and Rusty. Two main men in my life," I replied, reaching in the pocket of my white doctor's coat to take out my wallet. "They're amazing."

I took out a picture, that was taken a couple of weeks ago. My friend Delia took it in a local park. It was of me, Buster and Rusty, all three of us playing in the autumn leafs, glowing with happiness.

"Here's a picture of them," I stood up and walked across the room to give him the photo. "My friend took this. I guess you can say that she's the most responsible one out of all my friends, but I don't really get to see her that much anymore."

Frank looked up from the photograph. "Why not?"

"She finally met the man of her dreams, and no matter what she says, I'm afraid I'm going to be the 'third wheel'. So I guess it's my fault, really." I explained sadly.

"Where did they meet?"

"At their work. Both of them worked for a big company and neither had the courage to talk to one another. Then the day that she quit her job, he went to the first floor of the building to Al's Bar to get drunk, knowing that he missed his shot at a worthy relationship. To his surprise, he found her there as well, drinking a martini. The rest is history, I guess you can say. He wasn't stupid enough to screw up his second chance."

"Did you know," Frank asked me in his alluring voice, "that most married couples meet at work?"

I shrugged, thinking that today I indeed met someone that I liked. Frank. Which was totally out of character for me, since I never believed in all of that 'love at first sight' bullshit. But I was definitely attracted to the man in front of me.

I walked over to Jersey to make my checkup on her progress. "Good news! Jersey's temperature is down!"

Frank jumped up from his chair and in a second he was next to me, grinning down at his puppy. "Thank you!"

I smiled and started to fill out the medical form. "No problem. I'm going to give you a substance in which you should soak her cut. Come for another check up in three days."

Frank cleared his throat, making me look up. He was biting his lip, clearly nervous.

"Look, I know that you don't know me that well, but I promise you that I'm not a stalker or a serial killer, or anything of that sort," he started to say quickly.

I nodded, not sure where this was going at.

"Here's a thing; Jersey likes you, and it took her days to warm up to Mikey. I like you. And even though it's almost twelve o'clock, do you want to grab a CUP OF coffee or something?"

I just stared at him, his words not fully sinking in. Me? What the hell did a guy like him see in me?

"Or not," he whispered, obviously mistaking my stunned silence. "It was worth a shot."

I quickly shook my head. "Wait! No, I'd love to."

His gorgeous face split into smile. "Really?"

I smiled back. "Yeah, but every coffee place is closed by now. But Al's Bar is open, and Delia - my friend - told me it's a good place to get to know people at. Plus it's just down the street."

Frank walked over to me and extended his hand. "Okay, Dr. Carrows. Al's Bar it is."