Chapter Text
“You gonna tell me how long you’ve actually been feeling sick?” Soda asks, perched in that damn hospital chair like it’s their couch at home, one leg hanging over the armrest in a picture of ease. Darry would tell him to shut up if he had the energy. But he’s currently staring down into some blue bag, trying to not hurl, while he’s sat on some uncomfortably stiff plastic mattress in a damn hospital. He figures Soda’s question is redundant, he’s feeling sick enough that he asked him to take him here, isn’t that explanation enough?
“Darry.”
“I dunno Soda it’s a nasty fuckin stomach flu or something, whaddya want me to say?” Darry sighs, letting the bag fall to the side, leaning back against the flat pillow. He feels pathetic, but after puking for two days straight, he figures he’s a bit entitled to be pathetic.
“A stomach flu don’t last this long.” Soda aptly points out, looking up from his phone with a quirked brow as he types away furiously, and Darry isn’t a fool. He’s probably singing it from the rooftops as he speaks.
“I’m just dehydrated and they gave me some anti-nausea stuff. They’ll give me some damn IV fluids and I’ll be fine. Who are you texting?” He hisses, watching his brother tap away another response. He makes another noise of irritation to get his attention when Soda takes too long to answer him.
“Relax, just telling Ponyboy.”
“No!”
“Darry, I don’t think it’s a stomach bug. He’d be pissed if he found out you’re here and we didn’t tell him.” Soda says, leveling him with a look. He wants to say that if they start telling people, that means they’ve decided that it’s something worse than a stomach flu, and he really doesn’t want to go down that road. It’s bad enough he’s here at the hospital, that alone has him feeling anxious. It makes him think about mom and dad and white blankets and blood-
“He’s at school!” He protests, trying desperately to tamp down those thoughts and focus on something else.
“I didn’t tell him anything major, just let him know you ain’t feeling well. We’ll wait and see what that scan thingy says before we tell him we’re at the hospital. I am just keeping him in the loop,” Soda waves off. He swears, it’s already bad enough that Soda had to haul his sorry tail to the ER, but telling Ponyboy will immediately make this shit into a bigger deal.
“The scan ain’t gonna show anything. I just need to finish the rest of this IV and then we can go,” He insists, gesturing to the thing taped to his arm, though the reminder of the tube in his vein makes another wave of nausea rush over him. He hates needles, which he knows means he’s pretty desperate to come here at all, let alone ask for them to go poking around his arms. But he’d gotten tired of laying on the bathroom floor somewhere around hour 32 of his misery.
“Your green complexion is highly reassuring,” Soda comments dryly.
“I’m 25 years old, I don’t need you nagging me.” Darry murmurs weakly moving to sit up. If he can sit on the edge of the bed maybe he can show himself he’s actually feeling better-
“Sit your ass back down,” Soda hisses, jumping to his feet and immediately placing his hands on his shoulders to stop him from moving. “And, clearly, someone’s gotta.” Soda scolds, perking up at the knock on the door.
Darry sorta wonders what he did in a past life to end up in this latest situation, but it must’ve been something bad. Because of course the girl walking into the room is real pretty, and even as ill as he feels, he feels a rush of embarrassment considering he’s practically being held down by his little brother. Not to mention how shitty he must look right now, he really doesn’t wanna see himself in a mirror, he has a feeling it’s bad.
“Hi! I’m Betty, I’m a medical student with the hospital medicine team, I was coming down to check on you. Darrel, right? Y’all okay? Do you need to get up for some reason?” She asks, eyes surveying them with a questioning look.
“Yes this is Darrel. And no he does not, he needs to lay back.” Soda emphasizes, giving him a gentle push so he’s leaning back on the bed again. He lets it happen, if only to hold on to whatever shreds of his dignity remain.
“I am fine,” he sighs, praying to God or whoever is tormenting him to just put him out of his damn misery. She doesn’t seem affected by his blunt response, simply flitting over to the glove box on the counter with a hum. Soda gives him a look and he swears if he could he’d just throttle him, but he’s too busy curling up on his side with a wince as Soda steps back. He hears the sound of one of those wheeled stools rolling across the ground and catches a glimpse of her slipping into view.
“So, how long has this been going on?” She asks, looking at him expectantly, as if she’s just here to have a little chat. Why couldn’t he have some old guy instead of a girl who looks to be his age?
“A day or so.” He grits out, he’s already told the story to some ER worker, he doesn’t really feel interested in reliving it again.
“Two days.” Soda interrupts, giving him a scolding look.
“Nausea and vomiting I’m guessing? Any diarrhea, fever, chills?” He shakes his head halfheartedly, like he said he’s already been asked this.
“He’s got fever and chills,” Soda adds on. Traitor.
“Any abdominal pain?” He can’t help it-
“What do you think?” He hisses, still he feels bad, she definitely deflates a bit, but she masks it quickly.
“Okay. Well, I dunno if the ER doctor has come in yet after your CT scan-“
“Nope, haven’t seen ’em yet.” Soda confirms brightly. Mama always said he could charm just about anyone, and he seems to be trying his damndest right now.
“Well they just officially read that CT. You’ve got appendicitis. So we’re gonna get you admitted and they’re getting you an OR spot set up-”
“Appendicitis, is that like bad?” Soda asks, brows furrowing. Darry wants to say yes, considering how shitty he feels right now.
“It makes you feel pretty crummy, but we just have to remove it and he’ll feel much better. It’s a quick surgery too.” It’s like the second the words slip from her mouth his blood runs cold. Surgery. He can’t do a surgery. The thought of letting some doctors cut him open makes him think of things he really doesn’t want to remember and-
“I’m not doing a surgery!” He hisses, eyes opening to give them both a panicked glare. Maybe she’s wrong, and there’s some way to handle this without surgery-
“How old are you even anyway? You don’t look old enough to be a doctor,” he mutters, trying to find a way out of this. He knows it’s a low blow, but he’s just praying somehow she’s wrong and he can just go home with some meds and feel better in a couple days. Even if it means acting like an asshole, he’ll hopefully never have to face her again, which is unfortunate considering in any other scenario he’d be thrilled she’s talking to him at all.
“I’m 25, I dunno if that makes me more qualified to be a doctor, though. But, unfortunately your appendix decided this for you. And if it ruptures that’s much more complicated. Thankfully you didn’t wait too long to come in, but it’s gotta come out.” She says, folding her arms and leveling him with a stare that makes him feel like shit.
“How long does he have to stay in the hospital?” Soda asks, sounding way too on board with this plan, though even he seems to have cut his joking around now. Which means this is serious.
“A couple days likely.” She says easily, jotting down something on a piece of paper.
“I don’t want to be admitted. I have to get back to work, I’ve already missed two days.” He argues. “Can’t you just give me some meds-”
He’s not used to vomiting without a warning, but before he can even process what’s going on he’s retching over that blue bag, hazily realizing she’s the one holding the bag up, a hand resting on his shoulder.
“Jesus Darry! You’re not going home,” Soda scolds, if he had the energy, he’d flip him the bird. Barely anything comes up at this point besides bile, which burns like hell, but then he’s just spitting out saliva miserably before he winces. Great, just fan-fucking-tastic.
“Here,” the girl, Betty, murmurs, handing him a tissue before she takes away the bag and tosses it in the garbage. She’s opening the cabinets of the room before she makes a noise and pulls out another bag before she’s depositing it in his hand. She doesn’t even blink, continuing to look at him with a tired glare. Damn, he really pissed her off with that age comment.
“Alright. Do you have any medical conditions and are you on any medications?” She asks, unwrapping her stethoscope from where it hangs over her neck.
“No.”
“Any surgeries in the past?”
“No. Isn’t this all in my chart?” He snaps. They’re already going head to head, no sense in trying to temper his attitude now.
“I like to confirm things,” She sighs, and Soda seems to give her a look of apology, which pisses him off more.
“Can’t we just get on with this?” He sighs, which he knows is unfair, but he’s sorta past giving a fuck.
“Alright, mind if I take a listen to you?” She replies, lips pressing into a thin line, though he can tell she’s gonna do it either way. He shrugs, but moves enough so she can press the thing to his chest. She’s quick at least, but then she’s looking at him warily.
“I gotta press on your stomach here, can you tell me where it hurts?”
“It hurts everywhere.” He grimaces, but then she presses down on his stomach which he wishes she wasn’t getting examined by some pretty girl but it hurts enough he lets out a yelp, and when she lets off it somehow hurts worse. “OW Fuck!”
“I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone now, I know that hurt,” She placates, looking a bit sympathetic for a moment, but he wants to bite out a comment that she isn’t the one in the hospital bed right now. “But definitely appendicitis. Rebound tenderness and everything.”
“Great, cool. Glad to clear that up. Thanks, can we talk to the doctor now?” He hisses out, and he knows it’s mean, but the flush of her cheeks distracts him from his own dread and horrible embarrassment. This might be the most embarrassing day of his life actually.
“So what’s the plan, doc?” Soda grins, clearly trying to do damage control.
“Well, as we’ve established I’m just the student. But I’ll go talk to my attending and let him know everything and he’ll come speak to you.” She has a bit of a bite to her tone, but she keeps a smile on her face anyways as she looks Darry dead in the eyes. Damn he’s gonna regret this so much later, she’s really beautiful and he’s been an asshole. “We’ll take over being the primary team after surgery. The surgeons should be by in a bit to get the ball rolling.”
“So we’ll see you again?” Soda asks, giving Darry a glare of his own.
“Unless this one fires me, yes.” She nods towards Darry.
“Nah, you’re fantastic. He’ll be less grumpy when we fix his tummy ache-”
“Shut up!” Darry bites out. But he knows that’s fair, he’s not exactly being nice.
“Well, nice meeting y’all. They’ll probably take him to the OR from here, and then bring you up to the floor afterwards.”
“Will you be there?” Soda asks as she grabs the doorknob. Damn, he’s basically got her fleeing the room with his attitude. He’s never been one to be rude like this before, and he knows Soda will give him an earful later.
“In the surgery or up on the floor?”
“Both.”
“No to surgery. Yes to the floor. I’ll be checking in each morning and more if y’all need me.”
“Awesome. It’ll be good to see a friendly face. We appreciate all your help, doctor.” Soda’s really laying it on thick.
“We’ll get you feeling better Mr. Curtis,” she nods, opening the door before she slips out, closing it softly. He closes his eyes before he can meet Soda’s.
“She’s pretty.” Soda comments, the weight in his tone tells him he caught on to Darry’s dismay quickly. He decides to not dignify him with a response. “What’s with the asshole approach?”
“I don’t feel good!” He barks out, he really doesn’t need a lecture from his brother right now. Even if he knows that deep down it’s not an excuse to be rude. But mama isn’t here to scold him, so. God, he can’t thing about that, because if he thinks about wanting mama he’s not gonna be able to handle this and-
“I know. I know, I’m sorry. But none of this is her fault. But you’re right, let’s just get you better. I’ve got you, alright?” At least for now he’s gonna get a break.
Betty is no stranger to patients being gruff, but damn, it hurts a bit more when it’s someone her age. But she realized the poor guy felt like shit, but questioning her abilities was completely uncalled for in her opinion. Thankfully, his grumpy demeanor is currently surgery’s problem, and when she has to check on him when they bring him up to his room, hopefully he’ll be loopy enough he won’t be very talkative or grumpy with her. Though he’s really not gonna like her when she has to pre-round on him and wake him up earlier in the mornings. Usually she doesn’t care if the patients like her or not, but it being someone her age, along with the fact that she’s not blind to his good looks, it stings a fair amount. She needs to get a grip, but there’s been too much rejection recently from her failed online dating attempts that she can’t help but take his insults much more personally than she should. But screw him, he’s a jerk and she wouldn’t wanna be around him anyway even if he’s objectively nice looking. Seems like he doesn’t even think women can be capable doctors, which gets her fired up more than it should if she thinks about that one. She’s on her afternoon walk around the floor, besides this afternoon appendicitis admit, she’s had just about nothing to do. All her other patients are stable, and all her classmates are busy, so she’s honestly all in all a bit bored. Boredom means too much time to think, and ruminating on his insult to her age and what she frankly thinks was some heavily implied misogyny has her in a bit of a tizzy. She could go read, but getting some extra steps in is probably good for her, though she’s probably working herself up.
Or at least, she has been bored, but the hospital always hears her inner thoughts and decides to change that. She almost runs into the poor boy that’s coming off the elevator, and by the looks of him he’s close to tears. Not an uncommon sight in the hospital, but he’s barely older than maybe late high school or early college, and he’s all by himself. He looks terrified.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes on reflex, stopping short before they collide. She’s about to ask him how she can help, but he beats her to it.
“Can you help me? I- I’m looking for my brother-”
“Okay, what’s his name?” She says gently, it makes her heart clench, he looks so young and scared. He probably is just a college kid, which reminds her of her sisters. It activates her mother duck instincts. While she’s used to being around the hospital, she can’t imagine the dread of getting that kind of phone call about her own loved one. Poor thing, it definitely cools off her own irritated ruminations.
“Darrel Curtis, he’s sick and getting some surgery-” Well, this boy certainly stumbled upon the right person. But God, not this Darrel Curtis again, she’s already pissed at the thought of having to check on him.
“Oh, well, he’s actually one of my patients. You said you’re his brother? Gimme a second and I’ll see what room he’s been assigned. I think your other brother is probably waiting there.” She placates, pulling out her phone and opening the EMR. She makes a jump calling the other guy that was in the ER his brother, but the kid doesn’t correct her so she figures she got it right.
“Are you his nurse? Have you seen him?” He sputters. She scrolls down her patient list and spots the room number by his name.
“Room 453, c’mon I’ll walk you there. And I’m a medical student. I saw him a bit before they took him to surgery. They’ll have him feeling a ton better,” She reassures as the kid practically stumbles over his feet to follow her.
“Was he alright? I tried to get here in time-“ The room is pretty close to the elevator, and the kid practically barrels into his other brother the second he spots him sitting in there.
“Geez Ponyboy, take a breath!” Soda says, but he’s grabbing the kid and tucking him into a tight hug, murmuring in a reassuring way that is a rare sight with guys this age. It’s a bit sweet, clearly they’re both a bit gentler than their other brother.
“Is he dying? I drove as fast as I could Soda, but I didn’t get to see him before surgery and-”
“Dying? Ponyboy I told you he’s fine! Just getting that appendix out or whatever. It’s alright kid.” She sorta wonders what’s up with these names, but in the grand scheme of things she’s got bigger fish to fry.
“He’s so stubborn, I can’t believe it!”
“Yeah well, he lost this battle,” Soda laughs.
“Is he- is it bad?”
“Nah. But he was grouchy as all get out,” Soda reassures. “Hey doc!” He grins, looking genuinely happy to see her in the doorway.
“Betty is fine,” she waves off. She doesn’t feel like a doctor, and it’s a bit weird when people around her age call her that.
“She said she’s one of the doctors for him?” The younger brother, apparently named Ponyboy, asks pulling away from the hug and wiping at his eyes quickly.
“Yup! Think Oscar the Grouch tried to run her off but she’s tough!” Soda grins, winking at her. She can’t hold back her laugh.
“He wasn’t feeling well, it’s alright,” she assures. She knows families can feel bad if their loved one has been a bit rude. Or in Darrel’s case, an asshole. Though the apologies do help, she won’t lie.
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you an apology out of him once he’s feeling better,” Soda waves, despite her assurance. She wants to tell him don’t bother, because she doesn’t care for apologies from stupid men, but that’s not very professional so she just avoids commenting.
“I’ll be back later to check on him when they bring him up from surgery,” Betty assures, giving them a nod. She figures they would enjoy some privacy, and she doesn’t need to be intruding.
When she does find out her beloved patient is out of surgery, she’s decided to do just a quick in and out. She needs to check his incision sites, make sure he feels better, and say see y’all in the morning. Efficiency is her friend, and she’s got a plan to get out fast. It’ll be great. He’ll be too tired from the anesthesia to bother her anyways.
She will say, seeing the way his brothers are fussing over him is cute, she sorta wonders if his parents are on the way too. Usually people’s parents are around for people this age, but maybe they live far away and haven’t gotten here yet. It sweet that his brothers are filling the role.
“I’m fine. I feel great Pony, I dunno why you even rushed here,” He’s slurring, which tells her he’s only been awake for a few minutes here. She will say, she did enjoy surgery for the sole reason of watching people come out of anesthesia, it gives everyone a good laugh.
“Cause I wanted to.” His brother replies, she sees the matching grins the two share.“Looks like you got another visitor Dar.”
“Hmm.” He nods, blinking at them.
“Just coming to check on things real quick,” Betty explains, stepping into the room and focusing on the monitor. His vitals are fine, which she’d expect considering he’s young and healthy, but always good to check. She’s gotta just do a brief exam and get out, so no need to move slow, hopefully he won’t even really recognize her.
“Are you having any stomach pain?” She asks, coming up to the rail of the bed and resting against it. He blinks up at her as if she’s just appeared from thin air.
“You are so beautiful,” He says, eyes half open but grinning up at her. His brothers burst into laughter, bending over what seems to be delight. She’s been insulted before, but she will say flirting, other than from creepy old men, is a first for her. She knows she’s blushing, but she just rolls her eyes in an attempt to play it off, and his brothers smother their laughs into snickers. God maybe if she’d just go out on some dates this sorta shit wouldn’t phase her.
“I’m sure the drugs make you think that. But trust me, unfortunately I’m the same girl from earlier. Does your stomach hurt?” She asks, carefully pressing onto his stomach, it’s much less tense, and he’s not wincing so she figures that answers her question. He’s probably too high to really answer her questions well anyways. His hand moves very slowly but he loosely grabs her wrist, and she pats his hand in assurance that she’s not gonna hurt him. “I’m just checking on you, you’re fine. Are you still nauseous?” She continues, glancing back up to the monitor when it alarms. His pulse ox isn’t picking up, which is an easy fix, but as she’s fiddling with it she feels a hand interlace with hers and someone lets out a snort.
“No.” He replies, squeezing her hand as he shakes his head lazily. It’s a very delayed response to her question, but a win all the same.
“Great.” She nods, trying to extricate her hand, but he only holds on more firmly. Soda, who looks to be the middle brother if she had to guess, seems delighted, eyes twinkling as he looks like he’s fighting off more laughs. Talk about whiplash.
“Are you an angel?” He asks her, sounding completely earnest.
“Definitely not,” she quips, “You are very much alive.” She gives up on regaining her left hand, and uses the right hand to move the gown to look at his incision sites. They’re tiny, he’ll heal real quick.
“Who are you?” He continues, somehow much more talkative with the aid of some propofol.
“I’m one of the doctors taking care of you,” she replies, pulling the gown to readjust and pulls up the blanket on the bed to cover him up better.
“Really?” Well high out of his mind, he seems to be her biggest fan, so at least there’s that. It’s a little bit of whiplash, but sometimes you gotta take the wins as they come. He’s still an asshole though, she reminds herself, even if being called an angel was kinda nice in a funny sorta way.
“Yep. You’ll feel much better. I’ll be back to check on y'all in the morning,” She replies.
“You can stay.” He says firmly, which if he hadn’t hated her earlier she’d find it a bit sweet. Still, she can’t find it in her to be petty enough to shoot him down when he’s not in his right mind.
“I gotta go check on some other patients, okay? And you gotta give me my hand back now,” She bargains.
“Oh. Okay,” he frowns, looking quite disappointed, but he at least lets her hand go.
“Thank you Betty, we appreciate it,” Ponyboy (she’s really gotta figure out what’s up with those two’s names) nods gratefully.
“I’ll be back in the morning. Glad you’re feeling a bit better,” she replies as she steps out the door. Well, tomorrow she has a feeling, will not be as smooth.
He wishes he could blame his terrible sleep on the fact that he’s in the hospital, but he’s pretty sure it’s his own head that keeps him waking up. He was a jerk to her, even though she was really the only doctor that actually spoke to them more than a couple words. Then he made an absolute idiot of himself after surgery, and his brothers just let him. There’s a terrible mixture of embarrassed, tired, and guilt all coming together that just makes him feel pretty lousy, even if the appendix being out helps. But his stomach still doesn’t feel great, and surgery is still surgery and it’s gonna take a bit to recover. And being in the hospital still has his nerves on edge.
“Are you in pain Dar?” Soda is asking from where he’s migrated to the recliner in the room. Darry gets the impression he’s not the only one that didn’t get much sleep here, since Pony and Soda insisted on sleeping here on the pull out couch bed. He’d told them to go home, but they’d refused, and it seems to be unspoken between the three of them that it’s reminding everyone a bit too much of mom and dad, so he didn’t push the subject much.
“No.” He’s a bit uncomfortable, and his stomach is definitely sore, but what’s really bugging him is all going on in his head.
“You look all upset.”
“I don’t particularly want to deal with the fact I looked like a complete fool last night.” He sighs, shooting Soda a sharp look. He could’ve intervened, instead he let Darry run his mouth even though he knew he wasn’t in his right mind. He loves his brothers, but he wished they’d picked another time to be little shits.
“Aw, she didn’t seem too bothered by it. Think it softened her impression of you after you were an ass earlier.” Soda waves off. He’s easy to move on from shit like this, considering Darry thinks he’s never experienced embarrassment before in his life.
“I just want to go home and forget this entire thing ever happened.” Preferably as soon as humanly possible.
“She’s cute ya know,” Soda whispers, making sure they don’t wake up Pony, not beating around the bush at all. He’s been set on trying to set Darry up on dates for a good nine months now. He’s been having to get creative to avoid those, but this is a new low. Trying to set him up with a doctor whom he argued with and insulted.
“She probably hates me, so there’s that.” Darry tacks on. Hell, he’s never been as good with people as his brothers. Sure he was well liked in high school, but dealing with emotions and stuff was never his strong point. That’s why he’s accepted he’ll be living solo now that they’re both grown up. Sure it’s a bit lonely at times, but he’s busy with work, and besides the gang and his few long time friends he’s not sure he’d get along with many other people anyhow. He’s clearly changed a lot since senior year of high school.
“Nah. She’s nice. And she blushed some when you were flirting-“
“Because it was inappropriate!” Darry points out. God he’s gonna get labeled as the patient who harasses a girl, wonderful.
“That’s kinda true,” Ponyboy mutters, turning over to face them. Oh God, it’s even worse now.
“Hey at this point you have nothing to lose, might as well just ask her out. Shoot your shot ya know?” Soda yawns, as if that’s the next best logical step.
“That is harassment-”
“Not if you just ask. But you’re like pushy about it, definitely.“ Soda continues.
“Can’t y’all just leave me be?”
“No, cause you tried to let yourself die instead of going to the hospital. Your current judgement can’t be trusted.” Soda says plainly.
“I called you to drive me didn’t I?” He huffs.
“Yeah after two days.”
“Geez Darry-“ Ponyboy gasps.
The knock at least cuts off their latest round of scolding him for being stubborn. And then he’s wishing he could just be asleep because it’s the very subject of his brothers’ conversation that’s slipping in the door.
“Good morning!” She whispers, blinking to adjust to the darkness in the room.
“We’re all awake, you can turn on the lights,” Soda offers.
“Oh I can do what I need to do in the dark,” she waves off, stepping over to the monitor to look at it with a tilt of her head. She seems to be avoiding looking at him.
“How are you this morning?” Soda continues on, with zero concern for Darry’s continuing embarrassment.
“I’m good. I think my coffee is kicking in so that’s good.” She replies with a smile, finally looking their way.
“They sure make you come in early,” Ponyboy observes.
“I’ve actually been here since 7, I try to not come round too early and wake people up before I have to,” she shrugs, scribbling stuff down on some paper. He wants to hide his face and hope this will all just end.
“Every day?!”
“Well, on the weekdays yeah,” she nods, turning towards them. “How are you feeling today Mr. Curtis?”
“Darry’s fine,” he coughs. He musta pissed her off real bad if she’s using his last name when they’re probably close to the same age.
“Alright. How’s your pain?” She asks, her face shows no indication of how pissed she is.
“Uhh, fine I guess.”
“Scale of 1-10?”
“Three?”
“That’s like at least a normal person seven,” Soda interrupts. It’s really not terrible, he can push through it.
“When was the last time you took your oxycodone?” She asks with a raised brow.
“I don’t want that,” He jolts. He’s not messing around with that shit, not for pain, not for anything.
“Well, we need to have your pain better managed,” She says, looking a bit annoyed as she purses her lips slightly, like she wants to say something more but she’s keeping it to herself.
“I don’t want any of those opioids. I’m not gonna take them,” He sighs. He’s seen what that shit does to people, he’s not even taking a risk for a moment.
“Okay. We can talk pain stuff in a minute. Any more nausea, vomiting?” He shakes his head. “Have you had a bowel movement yet?” He swears he chokes on thin air.
“What? Why?!” He’s surprised his brothers aren’t in hysterics laughing at him. “Are you seriously asking me-“
“Listen, you don’t have to like me, I’ve gotten the message. But snapping at me doesn’t make a difference that I have to ask you these questions!” She snaps, eyes narrowing and face lighting up in a way that makes her look beautiful even when angry.
“I’m really sorry you got sick, trust me I know it’s not fun, but questioning my abilities yesterday just because I’m a woman-” Jesus Christ, that’s not what he was doing! That’s what she thinks? God he’s made himself look more like an asshole that he could even fathom. Now she thinks he’s one of those misogynistic guys, God maybe if he could’ve just kept a lid on his temper when she was in the room. But he really did feel like shit yesterday.
“It wasn’t! All I said was you’re real young!” He sputters, but his brothers’ heads are both swiveling like they’re watching a tennis match so he knows this is a shit-show.
“Yeah that implies plenty. Sorry you’re stuck with me.” She snaps.
“I-”
“I’m sorry. That was not at all professional of me!” She looks a bit pale all of a sudden. “I’ll be back with my attending later in the morning. I’m sorry!” She stutters before she’s scrambling for the door, and he’s a bit stunned by the entire exchange. He didn’t even get the chance to explain himself or try to actually apologize. Mom would be pissed at him.
“Well that went well.” Ponyboy comments.
“Gee thanks.”