5. Rohit
M y sneakers squeak as I turn to walk away from Miley. Though I don’t know her well, I’ve never seen her like that. My best friend Quinn is engaged to Miley’s best friend, so we’ve hung out in group settings. She’s always the fun one at a bar, pulling her friend Dylan to the dance floor. When Dylan and Quinn briefly broke up, Miley showed not one ounce of sadness, just a ton of angry fire directed at my man Quinn.
Is that why I froze when I saw her crying? I consider myself good at comforting emotional patients, but emotional women… that bewilders me. I keep all of my relationships light, if you can even call them relationships. Even so, I’m not totally heartless, and I find my hand reaching into my pocket for my cell phone to text Dylan so she can check in on Miley. I get the feeling Miley would probably prefer that I pretend I never saw her though, so I put my phone away and head to the pharmacy to get more insulin for Rhonda, like I meant to do all along.
Heading back to the elevator, insulin in hand, I’m surprised to see Miley standing there in her green scrubs and hospital-issued zippered fleece, also waiting for the elevator. I lean in and press the button to call for it, even though it is already lit up. Miley’s gaze trails from my finger, up my arm, and finally to my face. Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then she regains her composure and turns back to the closed elevator doors.
“I trust we can keep that moment between us,” she says softly, but firmly.
“Keep what between who?” I ask with feigned confusion.
She gives a small nod as the elevator dings open and we enter in silence. As I stand next to Miley, I peek at her and notice trace smudges of black at the corner of her eyes.
“Miley, one random question that has nothing to do with a chance interaction in a dark hallway, but are you okay?” I ask, looking down at her tiny form.
She turns, squares her shoulders, and looks up at me sharply. She takes a deep breath and I am so sure she’s going to scream at me, I actually flinch backwards.
“I’m okay, but I don’t want to talk about it,” she says, bottom lip quivering slightly.
“Well, if you ever do want to talk about it, Dylan is only a phone call away,” I joke, resisting the urge to wipe away a black-tinged tear from the outer corner of her eye.
Miley lets out a short, strangled laugh and rolls her eyes. “That’s the Rohit I know,” she says as the elevator door opens on the fourth floor with all the ORs. She walks out without giving me a second glance. With her gone, I’m alone and I head up the last few floors to the ICU.
My shift passes quickly. Rhonda, the patient with DKA, is my only patient today because I am also on the RRT team today. The Rapid Response Team attends to patients who are acutely ill and need help for various reasons like trouble breathing. It gets me off the ICU floor and offers a little more excitement than a regular shift, which I love.
Before I know it, it’s time to sign out to the night nurse. Rhonda has been doing well and most likely won’t need the ICU for much longer. She should be good to go to a regular floor without an insulin drip by the morning.
By the time I’m back in my apartment, it’s just after seven thirty PM and I shoot off a quick text to Quinn.
Wanna grab some beers and watch baseball?
QUINN
Can’t, on call
How about this weekend?
Sounds good, it’s been too long
Our fathers have co-owned an anesthesiologist practice since we were babies, so we grew up together. It was natural to think we'd both follow in our father's footsteps and go into anesthesiology and join the practice, but Quinn went into cardiology, and me, well, I didn't go to medical school at all.
I'm happy with how my life is turning out though, and don't regret my choices. Although, when my path occasionally crosses with my father’s work at the hospital, it's a bit tense, but thankfully it doesn't happen often.
The best part about not following my father's wishes for my future is that I don't have to be on call, giving me the freedom to go out and have fun. After all, I’m only twenty-nine once. My twin sister Reena will be twenty-nine several more times though, since she’s afraid of the big three-oh.
Since Quinn is too busy to hang, I reach out to my favorite wingman.
Tavern 58?
DAVID
Meet you there at 9
Cool
Even though David and I met through coaching, we quickly became good friends. He played division one tennis in college, but when he finished, he wasn’t ready to go back to Barcelona. He first got a masters in physiology, and now he’s working on one in sports psychology, all while he coaches tennis to make some extra money. His ultimate goal is to be a tennis coach at a division one school, and I think he’d be great at it. For now, he’s enjoying the student life and is always up for a good time.
I eat some leftovers while catching the first few innings of the baseball game before getting ready to go out. I am painfully aware that my multi-step routine definitively qualifies me as high-maintenance, but looking this good isn’t easy. Showering off the hospital smell is a must. Luckily, I got laser hair removal of my chest and back years ago to combat my hairy Indian genetics so I don’t have to shave. Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and swipe the fog off the mirror. Beard maintenance is quick and easy, but messing with my hair takes a little longer. When I’m finally ready to get dressed, I pull on my favorite dark wash denim jeans and black fitted tee-shirt.
I walk into Tavern 58 just after nine. The retro wood-paneled walls are adorned with sports memorabilia lit by spotlights. I see David at the bar, chatting with a few cute girls. His blonde hair and accent always win the ladies over.
“No, amor , it’s Da-VEED,” he’s explaining to the brunette that’s leaning in close.
“Your accent, where are you from?” she purrs.
“Barcelona,” he replies with a soft lisp.
I slide onto the empty barstool on the other side of David, and we bump shoulders as he turns to introduce me.
“This is my friend Rohit. RO-hith,” he explains. David is always concerned with pronouncing my name properly, but I’m accustomed to a variety of approximations and it never really bothers me.
The brunette looks at me and smiles. “I’m Julie, and this is my sister, Jenni.” She points to a tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed knockout. “We came to the city to help our sister Jessie find a wedding dress,” she explains. She nods over to Jessie, who is sitting a little further away and looks thoroughly unimpressed with the conversation.
Jenni comes around to me, and her eyes widen. “OH MY GOD, your eyes!” she exclaims, laying a hand on my forearm. “They are so big. And they are so light. And your lashes! Mine wouldn’t look like that even if I had extensions.”
I smile. I know my eyes are my most noticeable feature, but it’s always an ego boost to hear it from a beautiful woman who happens to be my type. A flirtatious, friendly, and outgoing personality is all I really need to be interested. Bonus points if she likes the way I look.
“I don’t know, your eyes are looking pretty gorgeous tonight, if you ask me.” I wink at her and lean in close.
“Aren’t you a charmer?” She smiles back. “Buy me a drink?”
“Done,” I say as I gesture for the bartender to bring another round.
Jenni slides her bar stool close and brings her lips to my ears and whispers, “Thanks for the drink.” Usually, I appreciate straightforward flirting, but tonight something feels a little off.
David, Julie, Jenni, and I chat for a bit while Jessie scowls at her phone. They all work for their family’s interior design business in Connecticut, and Julie and Jenni plan on coming down to the city for the next few weekends to scout out locations for their sister’s bachelorette party. David and I exchange numbers with them.
“Let us know when you’re back in the city and we’d be happy to show you some great spots,” David says quietly so Julie has to lean in to hear. Julie smiles and nods, just before David leans in for a kiss.
Jenni nods at her sister and then looks at me with a raised eyebrow. She’s hot, and ordinarily I’d be down to makeout, but something holds me back for a fraction of a second. Before I can decide if I want to make a move, Jessie’s voice rings out.
“Julie, Jenni, let’s go. Our ride is here,” Jessie calls sharply.
“Jessie, why’d you have to call your fiancé to come and get us so soon? You’re no fun,” Jenni complains, pulling away from me. “I’ll text you when I’m in the city next,” she says as she hops off my lap and sashays away.
David gives Julie a confident smile as she joins her sisters in leaving the bar. With the girls gone, we turn to each other and catch up.
“Those girls were cu-ute,” David says with a whistle.
“They were,” I say, hesitantly. I can’t place what’s going on with me right now.
“I bet we can show them a great time if we see them again,” David says with a sly smile, then raises his eyebrow as he asks, “Are you off tomorrow?”
“Yeah, why? What’s up?” I answer, suspiciously.
“I have a big paper due this week and I was wondering if you could cover my groups tomorrow afternoon.” David flashes me his megawatt smile.
“Sure. I love spending time with the kids. No need for that smile, though. I'm not dropping my panties for you,” I tease. We finish our beers and call it a night. I walk the few blocks home, and just as I’m entering the apartment, my phone vibrates.
JENNI (BLONDE TAVERN 58)
See you soon *wink emoji*
I leave the text unanswered.