Zane lay in the hospital bed, pale and frowning in his sleep, like even his dreams were exhausting him. Mom stopped by to check on him and told me to take good care of my patient. I'd pulled an all-nighter—my eyes were bloodshot—and after they ran his last bag of fluids, I dozed in the recliner beside his bed.
Somewhere in my half-sleep, I felt someone drape a blanket over me. I assumed it was Mom and couldn't even be bothered to open my eyes. Then warm fingertips brushed my cheek, and just as quickly, they were gone.
The next morning, Zane woke me up. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, unbearable. He fixed me with a pitiful stare. "Zo, I'm thirsty."
I grabbed the thermos off the nightstand and held it out. He didn't take it. "My hand's got an IV in it. It huuurts."
Fine. I held the cup to his lips myself.
"Zo, I want an apple."
He's a patient. You can't hit a patient. I grabbed the reddest apple in the bag, cored it, sliced it up. He opened his mouth like a baby bird. "Feed me, Zo."
I saw red and shoved the whole apple into his mouth.
"Zane, you're pushing it!
"It's a cold, Zane. Your fever broke yesterday—quit faking.
"I've got plans today. Important ones. Stay here, be good, sleep. I'll come by this evening."
He yanked the apple out of his mouth. "You're leaving? Where? I'm coming too!"
I looked him up and down. "It's a date, Zane. You want to come watch?"
His eyes flickered. "A date? With who? A guy?"
A girl I knew from my year had set me up with a senior physics major—Derek. We'd been texting for a while and got along great. He was visiting my neck of the woods and asked to meet up. Obviously I wasn't bringing Zane to that.
"Obviously it's a guy. Now lie there and behave, blockhead. I'll be back tonight."
I'd slept in a hospital chair all night; I wanted to run home, shower, and look human before the date. The second I stood up, a hand caught the hem of my shirt.
"Zo, I feel awful. I can't breathe. Can you get Mrs. Bennett to come check on me?"
I glanced at the clock. Still time. I went and fetched my mom, already mentally drafting my complaint about what a high-maintenance patient he was.
I never got the chance. The little rat tattled first. The second Mom walked in, he perked right up.
"Mrs. Bennett, Zoe said she's going on a date. With a guy she doesn't even know."
My jaw dropped. I wanted to strangle him with my bare hands.
Mom turned around, eyes like knives. "Zoe Bennett! You've got some nerve."
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