1. Olive #2
I gesture to the bed. "Sam, look who finally showed up."
Sam gasps. His eyes go wide. He drops his hockey puck onto the blankets.
Malcolm and Lawrence walk in first. They soften their postures, dipping their shoulders to look less intimidating. Finn follows close behind them.
Finn walks right up to the side of the bed. "Hey there, Sam. I heard you were a pretty big fan."
Sam looks star-struck. His mouth opens and closes twice before he speaks. "You're Finn Hayes. You had thirty-two saves last game."
Finn grins, a genuine, dimpled smile that transforms his face. "I got lucky on a few of those. The defense bailed me out. It's great to meet you, man."
I watch from the corner of the room, keeping an eye on the door. Victor enters last.
He steps over the threshold and freezes. All the color drains from his face. His skin turns an ashen, sickly gray. His eyes dart around the small room. He stares at the medical equipment, the clear tubes taped to Sam's arm, and finally at Sam's face.
His chest heaves. He looks terrified. He looks like he's about to throw up all over the linoleum floor.
Before anyone speaks, Victor spins around. He shoves past the doorframe, his shoulder clipping the wood, and flees down the hallway at a dead sprint.
The room goes dead silent.
Sam looks at the empty doorway, confusion spreading across his small face. "Where did he go?"
My teeth grind together until my jaw aches. I dig my fingernails into my palms until it stings. He lacked the stomach to pretend to care for five minutes. He took one look at the reality of a sick kid and ran away like a coward.
I step forward, forcing that fake smile right back onto my face.
I pat the blankets near Sam's feet. "I heard him mention earlier that he forgot something in his car. He'll return soon. But you have the rest of the guys all to yourself right now."
Malcolm and Lawrence exchange a dark, loaded look. For a split second, I think they plan to run out after him. Malcolm clears his throat and steps closer to the bed. He pulls a handful of gold and black markers out of his tracksuit pocket.
"Yeah." Malcolm forces a grin, turning his attention to the kid. "We've got plenty of time. Let's get that puck signed, man."
Lawrence nods and pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Absolutely. Let's get a group picture while we're at it."
Finn leans in, his warm presence filling the space by the bed. "I call the spot right next to Sam."
Malcolm uncaps the gold marker and signs the rubber puck. He passes it to Lawrence, who adds his signature before handing it to Finn. They crowd around the small hospital bed.
Lawrence hands his phone over to me. "Mind taking some photos for us?"
I take the phone and step back to frame the shot. Sam beams with a gap-toothed smile. Finn and the other guys lean in close and make goofy faces. I snap a few pictures and hand the device back.
Sam points to the TV mounted on the wall. His Nintendo Switch sits on the tray table. He grabs a red joycon. "Do you guys play Mario Kart?"
Malcolm grins and snags a controller. "I call Yoshi."
Lawrence takes another one. "Prepare to lose. I dominate Rainbow Road."
Finn scoots his chair closer to the bed and takes the last controller. "Let's see what you got, Sam."
I step back toward the window and watch them settle in.
The familiar countdown music fills the small room.
The race starts. The three athletes lean into every twist of the track.
Their broad shoulders bump together. Malcolm curses under his breath when a blue shell hits his green dinosaur.
Sam laughs, a bright, genuine sound, and drifts his kart around the final corner.
The hospital room door swings open right as Sam crosses the finish line on the TV screen. The guys groan in exaggerated defeat.
A woman in a blue retail polo shirt and khakis steps inside. She clutches a worn purse to her chest. She breathes in fast, ragged gasps.
Sam's mom, Elena, looks at the giant hockey players crowded around her son's bed. "My manager kept me late on the register. I drove like a maniac to get here in time for pictures."
I step forward and offer her a warm smile. "Elena, these are the Iron Wolves. Guys, this is Sam's mom."
Finn pauses the game and stands up. He shakes her hand. Malcolm and Lawrence follow suit, introducing themselves with easy smiles.
Elena's eyes well up with tears. "Thank you for staying. That means the world to us."
Finn smiles. "We wouldn't miss it. Sam just destroyed us on the track. We need a rematch."
Elena wipes her eyes and pulls a plastic guest chair into the corner of the room. She sits down, content to stay and watch her son.
I stand near the foot of the bed and watch them interact. I feel wave of respect for them. They treat Sam like a regular kid. They bump shoulders with him, trash-talk the video game characters, and fill the sterile room with loud laughter.
The tension in my shoulders drops. I lean against the edge of the metal bed frame.
A strange heat washes over me. It starts at the base of my neck and rushes down my spine. It lacks the ache of a normal fever. It feels different. A layer of sweat breaks out across my forehead and the back of my neck.
I blink to clear my sudden blurry vision. My chest tightens. I struggle to pull air into my lungs as my pulse races and hammers against my ribs in a chaotic rhythm.
I grip the metal railing of the bed to steady myself.
The guys shift in their seats as a new race loads. Malcolm stretches his long legs. Lawrence chuckles and claps Finn on the back. The combined movement pushes a wave of air in my direction.
For the first time since they walked in, I notice their cologne.
I never realized guys wore stuff this potent.
I catch a distinct pattern. All three of them share the same base scent of crisp citrus.
It smells like a custom team blend. But each guy wears a unique twist. Malcolm smells like citrus and rich cedar.
Lawrence smells like citrus and crushed black pepper.
Finn smells like citrus and the ozone of a thunderstorm.
The combined scent hits my system like a drug. It wraps around me, sinks into my skin, and turns my knees to jelly. The three of them look mesmerizing. The way Malcolm's dark braid rests over his broad shoulder. The way Lawrence smiles. The deep rumble of Finn's laugh.
A desperate whine builds in the back of my throat. I swallow it down. What is wrong with me?
I must’ve caught the terrible flu that spreads through the nursing staff every winter. It has to be a virus. A sudden stomach bug that messes with my senses and makes me hypersensitive to smells.
The room spins. The potent citrus blend grows stronger. It messes with my head. It makes me want to crawl across the linoleum floor and curl up right in the middle of them. The ridiculous thought terrifies me.
Malcolm drops his controller. Lawrence turns his head. Finn pauses the game. All three pairs of eyes lock onto my face.
Finn tilts his head. "Hey, are you alright? You look flushed."
His deep voice vibrates through my bones. Lawrence stands up, his brow furrowed in concern. Malcolm watches me with dark, intense eyes.
Another wave of heat crashes over my skin. My legs tremble. I struggle to remain standing.
I take a clumsy step backward. "I'm fine."
Finn stands up next. The plastic chair screeches against the floor. He takes a half-step toward me.
Finn reaches a hand out. "You're shaking. Do you need to sit down?"
"No." I rush the word. My voice cracks. I take another step back and trip over the edge of the trash can. "I just need to go get some water. I'll be right back. Sam, play nice."
I turn and run out of the hospital room. I sprint down the hallway and ignore the stares from the nurses. I need to get away from that room and that potent cologne.
I push through the thick doors into the nearest staff restroom. I lock the door behind me. I grip the edges of the porcelain sink until my knuckles turn white.
I stare at my reflection. A deep crimson crawls up my neck to my cheeks. My chest heaves as I tremble from head to toe.
It’s just the flu. I’ll go home and sleep it off. I’ll ask to leave early so I don’t pass anything to my patients. I’ll have Claire come take over for me for Sam in case Elena needs to go back to work. With some sleep, I'll be fine by tomorrow.