13. Awkward Examinations, Flirty Fun, and Guessing Games
Hudson
“Let’shave a look at your penis,” Dr. Blaire says. “Make sure everything’s fine now that it seems to have returned to normal.”
Oh God, let’s not. She puts on some blue gloves, snapping them at her wrists, then lifts the sheet and pulls it down and out of her way. I stare up at the ceiling, too nervous to look down, even though I’m comfortably numb otherwise.
She lowers her face a little closer and lifts my penis, moving it from side to side. “How long will you be in town?”
God, this is awkward. “Another five weeks.”
“Oh, that’s nice. There’s a lovely Thai restaurant not far from here. They make the best yellow coconut curry I’ve had, and I’ve actually been to Thailand.”
Is she low-key asking me out? Please let go of my penis. “Well, that sounds… I’ll have to check it out.”
“You should.” She stands and covers me back up, then takes off her gloves and tosses them in the bin. “From what I can see, things look fine.”
“Great, that’s a relief,” I answer. “Do you think it’ll … you know … function normally after this?”
She shakes her head. “Hard to say. It’s just such a rare occurrence that there isn’t much in the literature about it. The closest thing I found was a guy who had an erection for thirty-six hours after one of these bites, but in that case, he hadn’t received any medical attention.”
“Was he okay?”
Shaking her head, she says, “He died. But don’t worry about that. Your erection is already gone and your blood pressure has lowered significantly. You’re getting the best care possible. I’m confident you’ll make a full recovery. Just don’t go trying to use it too soon. Give yourself a few days off, at least.”
“Okay, yeah. Good tip.”
“Seriously, don’t worry,” she says, placing her hand on my forearm. “You’re young and you’re in phenomenal shape, so you’re going to bounce back really quickly, I’m sure.”
“Thanks,” I answer, even though she’s in no way an expert on Brazilian wandering spider bites.
“Okay, well, I should go check on my other patients,” she says, picking up my chart and jotting something down. “I’ll see if I can swing back to look in on you before I’m off for the night.”
“Excellent.”
Dr. Blaire walks to the door, then swings it open to reveal Allie standing in the hall just outside. “All done.”
Allie walks in and waits until the door closes before she says, “Is it me or does she not like me very much?”
“I kind of got that impression too, but for the life of me, I can’t think of any reason not to like you.”
Blushing, Allie looks away, her eyes landing on the balloon bouquets lined up along the wall. “I think it’s got more to do with how much she likes you, which I’m guessing is the case wherever you go.” Gesturing to the gift bags, she says, “Just look at all this stuff. Seriously, it started showing up when we were still in the ER. Do you know how not normal that is?”
“You mean most people aren’t showered with gifts moments after an insect bite?”
“Technically, it was an arachnid, not an insect,” she says with a little grin meant to soften the fact that she’s correcting me. “But the answer to your question is yes. This isn’t the reaction normal humans get.”
I tilt my head to the side. “I am a normal human.”
Wrinkling up her nose, she says, “I beg to differ.”
“The whole fame thing … there’s nothing real about it. I know it looks amazing from the outside, and there are a lot of perks, but it’s also a whole lot of bullshit. People say they love me, but they don’t really love me.”
“Sure they do.”
I shake my head again. “They can’t. They don’t know me. They love the idea of me. Or whatever character I played that they think is the real me, but they don’t know who I am.”
“Well, you seem like a lovable guy.” Offering me a playful grin, she adds, “But you are a professional liar, so…”
I grin at her. “Well, you’re getting the real me.”
“I am?” she asks, walking over to one of the gift bags.
“Yup, I’m too high to pretend.”
“Oh, so if I wanted to, I could get you to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets.”
“Only if you’ll tell me yours.”
Glancing up at the ceiling as if she’s deciding, she says, “I don’t know if I like those terms.” She squints at the card and gasps. “Do you know who these are from?”
“No idea.”
“Stephen.”
“Stephen who?”
“I’m assuming Spielberg.”
I shake my head. “If it doesn’t also have Kate’s name, it’s not from him. I’d guess Colbert.”
“Wow,” she mutters, looking for the card on the next bouquet. “The executives at Galaxy Studios.”
She goes through all of the flowers and balloon bouquets, gasping and reading the cards to me, and I can’t help but find it very refreshing that she’s not pretending any of this is normal. Her reactions are real. Excited. Just like I used to be when I first got my start. “Do you want me to open the presents?” she asks, clearly wanting me to say yes.
“Please do.”
“Sweet!” she says, lifting a huge bag up onto the foot of my bed. “Let’s see what rich people buy each other when they do something heroic.”
“You mean stupid.”
“Heroic,” Allie answers, yanking the tissue paper out of the bag, then sliding a box out of it. “Nordstrom. This should be good.” She sets the box down and screws up her adorable face. “I’m going to guess a plush blanket and some aromatherapy candles.”
“Ooh, good one.” Grinning, I say, “Who’s it from?”
“No clues.”
“Tricky. Okay, in that case, I’m going to go … bathrobe and slippers.”
“Interesting. Should we bet?”
How is it possible that I’m having fun right now? “Definitely. What’s up for grabs?”
“All the chocolate in this room.”
“Deal,” I say before my brain catches up with the conversation. “Wait. The chocolate is already mine. What are you putting up?”
“I have an almost new box of TicTacs in my bag,” she says with wide eyes and a big smile.
“Come on, all my chocolate for some used TicTacs?” I ask. “You can do better than that.”
“A box of pastries from my parents’ shop.”
Shaking my head, I say, “I’m not really a sweets guy.”
“Not a sweets guy?” Pursing her lips together, she says, “That’s not a thing. Everybody’s a sweets guy. We’re genetically engineered to crave sugar.”
“Not me. I’m all salt, all the time,” I answer. “Except I do love a milkshake from In-N-Out on occasion, but that’s only because it’s the best thing to wash down their fries.”
“All right, weird, but if you say so, you’re not a sweets guy.” She taps her lips with her index finger, then says, “Wait. If you’re not a sweets guy, why do you even care if I win all the chocolate?”
She’s got me there. I have no answer for that one. “Umm, because chocolate is very important to me. It’s comforting to have it around.”
She bursts out laughing. “And you can have it around until I eat it all.”
Now, it’s my turn to laugh. “All right. Just open the box already so we can see what’s in there.”
Lifting the lid off the box, she then opens the tissue paper inside to reveal a robe and some slippers. “Nuts. You were right. How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess.”
She puts the lid back on, then places the box back into the bag. Picking up a smaller one, she says, “Double or nothing?”
I start to laugh again. “What? Do you have two packs of used TicTacs?”
Allie lets out a loud laugh. It’s a pleasing sound that makes me feel much happier than I should be right now. Somehow, making someone as smart as her laugh feels like a victory. She purses her lips at me, giving me a flirty look. “No, but I have some loose change and there’s a vending machine down the hall. I bet I can scrounge up some potato chips for you.”
“Okay, but only because I’m high and I could actually go for some chips.”
Lifting the bag, she says, “It’s a little heavy. I’m going to say … some sort of fancy schmancy bath oils in jars made from real crystal. Oh! And the bath oils are definitely vegan, likely edible, and probably have saffron or something in them that make them cost a thousand dollars an ounce.”
“That is an extremely specific guess.”
She gives me a shrug. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty good at this.”
“You’re ‘o’ for one so far.”
“But I’m due…” she says, causing me to laugh some more. “For all the loose change in my purse. What’s your guess?”
“It’s an iPad.”
“Based on what?”
“The apple on the side of the bag.”
She tilts her head down a little to examine the bag, then reads the gift tag. “Wishing you a full and speedy recovery, the gang at Apple.” Reaching her hand in, she pulls out the box, which, indeed, indicates it’s an iPad. She holds it up. “Did you go through these bags when I was in the hall?”
Placing my right hand on my chest, I say, “I swear on my dog, I did no such thing.”
Giving me a skeptical look, she says, “All right. I’ll believe you, but if you get this next one, all bets are off.”
We spend the next half hour playing this game until all the gifts have been unwrapped. By the time we’re done, I have three luxury travel shaving and toiletry kits, four sets of men’s pajamas, six plush robes (all with slippers), fifteen eye masks, three baskets of food (including meat, cheese, nuts, dates, crackers, and wine), a back scratcher, enough soothing balms and moisturizing creams to start my own store, seven calming sound machines, and three more iPads.
Allie, who is now sitting on the foot of my bed, stares down at it all. “Wow. That’s … a lot of stuff.”
“It’s crazy, right?”
“Totally. I can’t believe there isn’t one measly box of chocolates.”
“Yeah, most people who know me know I’m not a sweets guy.”
“About that—while we’re here we should probably talk to a doctor. It’s just not normal.”
Chuckling, I say, “Don’t worry. My mom had all the proper tests run when I was a kid. Turns out I can live a healthy and mostly normal life without them.”
“But what’s the point?” she asks, scrunching up her face as though she’s confused.
We both laugh, and I find myself staring at her a moment too long. There’s a shift in the energy in the room and her smile fades. After a second, she glances away, and I realize I’m going to mess this whole thing up because I like her. I mean, I really like her. And there’s no way a genius is going to end up with a guy like me. I clear my throat and say, “Anyway, whatever you want, it’s all yours.”
“Even an iPad?”
“Definitely an iPad.”
“I was just kidding. I can’t take your stuff.”
“Seriously, Allie, what am I going to do with seven sound machines?”
“Make every room in your house sound like ocean waves.”
“I just open the windows for that.”
“Oh, that make sense.”
I’m suddenly embarrassed by what I just said. “Was that a flex?”
She gives me a wry smile. “A little bit, maybe.”
“Shit. I didn’t mean to flex. Can we chalk it up to the drugs?”
“Sure.”
“That’s very charitable of you,” I answer. “Now, what I meant to say is that I’d be happy if you’d take some of this stuff, as a thank you for sticking around tonight. You are staying, aren’t you?”
She glances over at the recliner in the corner. “Sure. I can use one of the plush blankets you got.”
“And grab a robe while you’re at it. And some pajamas. Take a toiletry kit. Whatever you like.”
“How about I borrow some things for the night. Not to keep or anything. Well, maybe the toothbrush. You probably won’t want that back.”
“It’s all yours. Seriously.”
“Sweet,” she says before rummaging around for a set of flannel pajamas, a robe, some slippers, and one of the toiletry kits. She starts toward the bathroom, then stops. “Wait. Are you sure you want me to stay? You might get a better night’s sleep if you’re alone.”
“I really won’t. As soon as you walk out that door, I’ll just lay here and worry about whether I’m actually going to make a full recovery.”
She swallows hard and nods. “Well, that sounds awful.”
“It would be. Whereas, with you here, I feel a lot better than I otherwise would. I’m actually having fun, which shouldn’t be possible, given the circumstances.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll stay.”
“Good, because that will make me very happy.” And it will. It really, really will. I want her to stay more than I’ve wanted anything for a very long time. If I were sober right now, that thought would scare the shit out of me, but since I’m in a happy daze, I’m totally fine with it.