7 MADDY
MADDY
What did I just agree to?
I’ve spent most of the day holed up in my room, buried in auscultation—aka listening to people’s insides through a stethoscope on video and pretending I know exactly what I’m hearing.
I chose nursing after my mom passed away.
Because I met the kindest nurses there, who made me realize I really wanted to work in a hospital.
Watching how steady and dedicated they are honestly left me in awe.
But even before all of that, I always dreamt of working in a hospital.
Noah still has a picture from one Halloween when I was little; me dressed as a doctor, stethoscope around my neck, oversized light-blue shirt, clutching a tiny emergency kit like I was about to save lives on the spot. I looked very serious about it, too.
There’s just something about the medical terms, the science, the way helping someone can be as simple as listening, that’s always made sense to me.
That said, loving what I study doesn’t mean I love every second of studying. Because at the end of the day, it’s still school and no amount of passion makes memorizing lung sounds feel thrilling.
It’s barely eight, but the sky outside is already fully dark. I grab my laptop and tug a blanket off the back of my chair on my way downstairs. Low voices from Noah and Ryan drift from the kitchen. They have been studying together all day. Sunday study sessions are kind of their thing.
I slip out the back door and onto the porch, soft cool evening air brushing my face.
I head toward our car, which is parked along the side of the house.
The old light-blue truck Noah and I have shared since we both got our licenses.
Brown leather seats, enough room in the back for my surfboards, a small scratch on the passenger door that I still swear wasn’t my fault.
I climb into the open back, crawl under my blanket, settling against the panel as the ocean hums somewhere in the distance. I like to do this whenever I’ve been in my room for too long and I need some fresh air.
After only a couple minutes, the front door creaks open and then slams shut, followed by Noah’s voice. “I’m late for marathon training! Kiara’s gonna kill me!”
I blink up just as he jogs past the truck, still putting on his running shoes, hopping on one leg.
“You? Late? Should I call the cops?” I yell after him and he shouts back from the street without slowing down. “Tell them I lived a good life!”
I shake my head, smiling.
“Is this the secret study cave?”
I glance up. Ryan’s hands are shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie, his brown curls moving in the wind and falling above his eyebrows.
“Shouldn't you be training with Noah and K?” I ask, looking back at my laptop.
“I prefer keeping my heart inside my chest.”
I laugh under my breath, still typing. “Fair.”
Ryan leans his arms on the side of the car. “Move over.”
“This is a solo spot.”
“You literally have enough room for a picnic in here.” He tilts his head. “Come on, move.”
I sigh and move over just a notch. He steps up onto the bumper and swings himself into the back of the truck, settling down beside me with his legs stretched out. “You always come out here?”
“Sometimes.” I nod. “If I’ve been in my room for too long.”
He leans his head back against the panel. “I get that.”
We sit in silence for a little while and then his gaze drifts to my screen. “What are you even working on?”
“Auscultation practice. I’m reviewing abnormal lung sounds and comparing—”
I stop explaining when I notice his eyebrows slowly climbing toward his hairline. “What?”
“That was not English.”
I scoff. “Yes, it was.”
“Pretty sure I heard at least three different languages in there,” he says, which makes me roll my eyes. “You asked.”
“I did,” he agrees easily. “Still interested. Just maybe use actual words this time?”
I fight a smile. “Fine. I’m basically listening to recordings of people’s breathing and then trying to figure out what’s wrong with them.”
Ryan nods slowly. “Ah. See, why didn’t you just say that?”
I bump my shoulder lightly into his. He huffs a quiet laugh, and as I look back at my screen. I see a notification pop up—a message. From Jacob. My body tenses before my brain even registers the words.
JACOB: was thinking about you today :)
I slam my laptop closed so fast I’m afraid I might’ve just accidentally broken it. God, is this guy serious? Does he think he can just say stuff like that? The confidence is almost impressive.
“Does he seriously still try to flirt with you?” Ryan asks. I blink at him—because I almost forgot he was here—and shrug.
“You know he’s a total asshole, right?”
I huff a laugh. “Oh, I know.”
I lean my head back against the panel as. Sometimes, I think about getting payback. You know, like stealing his clothes and shrinking them. Or putting green hair dye in his shampoo. Or even better, start a rumour that his designer clothes are fake.
Ryan lets out a snort beside me.
Wait—did I just say that out loud?
“I’m kidding,” I add quickly. “Kinda.”
He laughs softly, but then his hand comes up to the back of his neck, rubbing like something’s bothering him.
“You okay?” I ask, a little amused. He rolls his shoulder once. “Yeah. Just sore from training.”
“What did you do?”
“Coach had us running defensive takedowns for an hour,” he mutters. “Then we moved into ground control and restraint drills, getting someone down, practicing cuff placement. Over and over.”
I wince. “Damn. That sounds intense.”
“It is.”
I tilt my head, pretending to study him. “You should be careful, you know. If you mess up your neck too much you could develop acute cervical destabilization syndrome.”
Ryan freezes and slowly turns to me. “…I’m sorry, what?”
I hold the serious face for exactly two seconds before it cracks. “Relax. I made that up.”
His eyes narrow. “You little shit.”
I grin and a second of quiet settles between us, but then Ryan pulls his phone from his pocket, and the second the screen lights up, messages start stacking on top of each other. It looks like a wedding planner who just found out the cake collapsed.
“Damn,” I say. “Since when are you this popular?”
He exhales and locks the screen. “Don’t even start.”
“Okay, but seriously. Did someone die?”
“No,” he says, already smiling like he hates this conversation. “Just my neighbour. Apparently she knows a friend-of-the-daughter-of-her-best-friend who’s single and would be ‘perfect for me’.”
I snort. “Maybe that’s why your neck hurts so much, carrying the weight of half the town trying to marry you off.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. And it sets me off again because yesterday flashes straight back into my brain. I bite the inside of my cheek trying not to laugh. But I fold terribly.
Ryan groans quietly. “Don’t.”
“I’m sorry—” I start, already laughing and failing to hide it. “I just can’t stop thinking about your face yesterday. You looked like you were about to fake your own death just to get out of that conversation.”
“I was seriously considering it.”
“What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up?” I ask after a second.
“I probably would’ve had to start a fight with her,” he says sarcastically.
“With her?” I repeat.
“Yeah,” he says dryly. “It was my only escape.”
I snort. “That would never work.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’d lose.”
His jaw drops in exaggerated disbelief. “Excuse you. I could break someone’s jaw if I wanted to.”
I tilt my head, studying him. “Could you?”
“Well, that depends. Are we talking hypothetical or Jacob?”
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. And at that exact moment his phone buzzes again. He sighs deeply, shoving his phone back in his pocket.
I shake my head. “You know you can just lie right?”
He glances back at me. “About what?”
“I don’t know,” I say, waving a hand. “Tell them you’re not into girls. Or that you’re secretly a murderer. Or—” I shrug. “Just say you have a girlfriend.”
The quiet that follows stretches a little too long and when I glance over, I see that Ryan hasn’t moved.
“Mads,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Say that last part again.”
I frown. “What? The murder thing?”
“No.”
“The not being into girls thing?”
“No.”
“…Say you have a girlfriend?”
His posture straightens and his gaze settles on me, those green eyes suddenly focused in a way that makes me suspicious.
“Yeah,” he says after a second. “That.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”
“Because,” he says slowly, “this might actually be the first useful idea you’ve ever had.”
I stare at him. Completely blank. What is he getting at? Ryan just keeps looking at me, eyebrows slightly raised, like he’s patiently waiting for the exact moment it finally clicks in my brain. And then it does.
Oh.
Oh no.
My jaw drops. “Absolutely not.”
He lifts his hands. “Hear me out.”
“No.”
“It would solve your Jacob problem,” he says calmly. “And it would solve my getting-set-up problem.”
I cross my arms. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Am I?” he asks, still way too composed. “We already convinced a stranger we were together in under ten seconds.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“That was for one minute,” I say. “This is—you’re suggesting—”
He shrugs. “Leaning into it.”
Has he actually lost all his senses?
“Ryan that’s—” I throw my hands up, words failing me. “—INSANE.”
“You literally just said you wanted to get back at Jacob.”
“Yeah, like… in theory,” I say. “Not in a practical, real-life-application way.”
He smirks. “You say that. But deep down, the thought of him being jealous feels good. You know it.”
I lift a finger, ready to argue—but stop. Because he’s right. The image flashes in my head. Jacob seeing me with someone else. His face tightening, that confidence cracking just a little. He’d absolutely lose it. The realization sneaks up on me, and before I can stop myself, I’m smiling.
I glance sideways and catch Ryan smirking.
“Oh no,” I mutter, slapping his arm. “You have officially lost your mind.”
“Maybe,” he says easily. “But you’re not saying no.”
I stare at him. “You do realize,” I say slowly, “this would be… really weird.”
Ryan shrugs. “Yeah. Obviously.”
“No, like—” I gesture vaguely between us. “Weird-weird. We’ve known each other for years.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Exactly.”
“That makes it worse,” I say immediately. “You get how that makes it worse, right?”
“Maddy, it’s not like we’d have to go all out. We won't have to get married or have a steamy make out session in the hallway.”
I narrow my eyes at him. My heart’s beating fast, because it’s ridiculous. But it also—even though I hate to admit it—makes sense. “Okay. Hypothetically.”
Ryan turns toward me. “Hypothetically?”
“If—big if—we did this…” I wave my hands, “What about Noah?”
Ryan goes quiet for a second. Then he exhales through his nose. “Yeah,” he says. “That could go one of two ways.”
I brace myself. “...Which are?”
“He’s fine with it,” Ryan says. “Or he kills me.”
“He would not kill you.”
“He absolutely would consider it.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, yes, he’d be weirded out. Very weirded out. But… he knows us. He knows you’re not, like, secretly evil.”
Ryan is quiet for a moment.
“We could tell him,” I say.
“No,” he says immediately. “That would only make things messy.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” I agree. “And telling the others wouldn’t be a great idea either.”
Ryan lets out a short laugh at that. “Liam would accidentally tell someone within, like, twelve minutes.”
I grin. “Maximum.”
We both laugh, and for a moment the whole conversation settles into silence again, like the decision has somehow been made without either of us actually saying it out loud.
“So,” I say, quieter now, “we wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“No,” he agrees. “We just keep it simple.”
“And we just stop when it’s done doing what it’s supposed to do?”
“Exactly,” he says.
I stare out at the ocean for a second, trying to get my senses to convince me to not do this.
My brain starts listing reasons this is a terrible idea—Noah, awkwardness, the fact that this could go so wrong—but then, unhelpfully, my brain supplies a very vivid image of Jacob’s face if he sees me with someone else.
The confusion first. Then the jealousy. Then the realization.
Okay, yeah. I’m sold.
I blow out a breath. “Okay.”
Ryan blinks. “Okay… as in okay?”
I nod quickly. “Yeah. Okay. But I’m not thinking about it any longer, because if I do, I will change my mind and pretend this conversation never happened.”
He laughs and then sticks out his hand. “Alright then. Operation Confuse the Hell Out of Everyone.”
I hesitate for a moment, but then grab his hand. “Deal.”
We shake hands, so there is no turning back now.
What the hell did I just agree to?