In the Company

As my alarm blared, I rolled over onto my side and squinted at the sunlight streaming through my window. I’d forgotten to close the curtains the night before when I’d gotten in late after dealing with Pat at the ER and it surprised me that I’d remembered to set my alarm.

The emergency room had been really crowded last night and we’d had to actually wait nearly an hour before Pat was taken back.

Dear Lord. I remembered the slightly awkward wait we had.

When we’d gotten to the hospital, I sent Pat in search of two seats in the crowded waiting room while I checked him into the long line of urgent patients and got his set of forms. Getting to the front of the line, I was interrupted by Pat’s voice.

From several feet away, Patrick called my name, getting the attention of a lot of people in the room.

“Hey Rosie!” he had shouted. “I’m over here!”

I was sure my face was bright red and the smirk on the nurse’s face at the front desk did nothing to help.

“Have your boyfriend fill these out and bring them up when he’s done. We’ll call him back.”

“He’s not my-,” I began. But she cut me off, calling the next person up.

As we sat, Pat relayed information to me as I filled out the medical papers, since his good hand was otherwise unusable.

“Are you pregnant?” I couldn’t help but crack a grin, even though I was trying to remain as serious as possible.

“Well,” Pat shifted in his seat. “I am a few days-,” but he couldn’t finish the sentence as we both fell into a fit of laughter.

Once we calmed down, I wiped a tear from my eye and lifted my head from his shoulder, where it had fallen when I slumped in my seat.

“Is there any way you can sign the paper?” I asked, showing him the final line of the packet.

Patrick squirmed. “Yeah, we can see.”

He took the pen in his left, unbandaged hand and scribbled a large, messier than normal signature.

“Real nice,” I rolled my eyes, just as his name was called. “Have fun.”

Patrick scowled at me as he ambled down the hall with a nurse, clutching his right hand.

I settled in my seat, ignoring the curious looks some of the other ER patients were giving me. Taking out my phone, I found a new message from Tyler and Ryleigh.

From Tyler Your Favorite:
Dinner is awkward, like, a million and two times more than it usually is when you, Pat, Ry, and Bray are together. Come back!

From Ry:
I need to talk to you! Tell Pat to suck it and get your ass back to the apartment!

I ignored Tyler’s text for the time being (and the fact that he had already changed his contact name in my new phone) to respond to my best friend’s urgent text.

It was obvious she was now beyond the sad and depressed state and was now in the ‘I’m-pissed-and-need-girl-time’ stage. And I was all too happy to make plans.

Pat just went back. I’ll be home soon hopefully. We’ll talk then, I promise.

And indeed, Pat was back by my side in just under an hour with a stitched and bandaged hand and a prescription to be filled. As we walked down the street to a pharmacy, his hand would brush my fingers. Unlike the morning of our run, I kept my hand closed and as far away from his as I could.

Despite the wise words Ry had given me, I was still too unsure about what was going on to act on anything. Sometimes, we would smile and flirt like two teenagers and other times we would be so awkward I wouldn’t know what was going on.

“Let’s get something to drink,” Pat suggested after we dropped off his prescription.

“I don’t know,” I hesitated, thinking about poor Ry back at the apartment.

“Come on,” he urged. “You can pick where.”

A smile broke across my face and I was hailing a cab before he could ask where we were going. I was suddenly in the mood for frozen hot chocolate.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“So how was your little jaunt about town with a certain hockey player last night?” Ryleigh teased as I entered the office building with her.

I rolled my eyes. “I could ask where you were, but judging by the look on your face, I can safely assume that you were with Brayden. And seeing as you’re all smiles, I’m going to say that things are good again?”

Ryleigh didn’t respond, but her smile grew-if that was possible.

“Good,” I decided. “I don’t like sad and mope-y Ryleigh.”

She shoved my shoulder lightly and we settled into our office together for the first time in a long while.

“Sad and mope-y Ryleigh is good and gone,” she affirmed. “And she’s also really excited to go shopping somewhere other than the freebie room.”

“Can we stop talking about ourselves in the third person?” I laughed. “Rose doesn’t like it.”

We shared another laugh before getting down to business. The boys were slowly trooping and I could see Brayden and Ryleigh exchange private smiles. The way their eyes lingered on each other said a lot and I was definitely going to interrogating her later.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Max plopped down in the chair across from my desk and propped his feet up on the glass.

I went to swat him away but Patrick beat me to it. I smiled at him-albeit a bit bashfully.

“By the looks of what Deena left us,” I said ruffling through some paperwork. “We’re talking to you guys about how to deal with your personal lives.”

“Isn’t that what got us here in the first place?” Taylor groaned. “Haven’t we been doing that all summer?”

“This is different,” Ryleigh said, working with me. “By personal lives, she means family and significant others.”

“How involved they are in your careers and ‘image’,” I put up air-quotes. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

Claude guffawed. “The only one here with a ‘significant other’ is Bray.” He thought a moment. “And maybe Pat.” Another pause. “And they’re ‘significant others’ are both in the room!”

Ryleigh and I exchanged a look. Is that what we were to them? She was certainly one step closer to that than I was. Or at least, I was assuming that.

Refusing to look at Pat, I stared Claude in the eyes. “We’re not talking about our personal lives. We’re talking about yours. End of story.” With each word, I pointed my finger at him.

The look on both Ry’s and my faces must have been enough to convince them that we were serious because as we shifted over to an area with more space, no one cracked any jokes and conversation was extremely sparse.

Settling onto the couches and chairs, Pat sat in the leather arm chair to my right while I took the couch. I could tell he was doing what he could to get my attention, but I wasn’t having it. I was working and he was learning.

End of story.