Page 16 of Rounds (Love In Scrubs)

A fter washing up in the restroom in the employee lounge, I changed into a fresh pair of scrubs and made my way to my desk in the lab.

The move to my new apartment that I’d put a deposit down for on Monday, had been pushed back a whole month, and I found myself homeless.

I was sleeping in the lounge when I could, and when I couldn’t, I went to my car.

This was bullshit. I couldn’t afford a hotel room for that long.

I would clean out my savings. So, I opted for staying in a room on the weekends.

It would be obvious what I was doing if I stayed at the hospital when I didn’t have to work.

I had to put my big items in a storage unit, along with furniture I’d purchased.

When I moved in with Jaunté, I let that nigga convince me to donate my furniture, since his house was already fully furnished, and his furniture was newer than mine.

He’d said mine was on the verge of falling apart.

As I thought about how stupid I’d been, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

Even after I had gotten everything I owned out of his house, he was still blowing my phone up, saying he was sorry and how he should have let me stay until my apartment was ready.

I had to block his ass. Now that I’d gotten everything moved, we had no reason to communicate.

I’d already given the postal service my forwarding address, and the apartment complex’s office said they would hold my mail for me.

My mental was fucked up about all this. I could have gone to one of my parents’ houses, but I refused to show them how stupid I’d been.

I still made my weekly call, letting them know that all was well.

I would tell them about my breakup with Jaunté once I moved into my new place.

I was raised to be independent. Accepting or asking for help was like a sin.

So, living in a hotel over the weekends was what I would do until my space was ready.

My car looked like a mini-sized travel trailer.

It was packed to the max with stuff. Thankfully, I’d had enough sense to put all my scrubs in one bag instead of scattering them all over the other bags.

It made my life a little less complicated.

Along with independence, I valued organization.

When I got to the office, there was a huge bouquet of flowers situated on my desk.

It was so beautiful. I knew it was from Glover.

I hated that he’d seen me at my weakest once again.

It was like it was so damn hard to hide my true emotions from him.

I wished he could understand the turmoil I was in.

It wasn’t just from a broken heart. I was in turmoil because I no longer trusted people.

He was possibly the right guy but definitely at the wrong time.

While his eyes held sincerity and passion in them, my heart couldn’t receive it for what it was.

I talked myself into believing it was fake.

They all were passionate and considerate at first. That was how they got you.

They dropped off some good dick, pretended to care about you, even said they loved you, looked out for you, then fucked around on you.

Their job was to get you comfortable and then string you along like a stupid bitch.

That was exactly what I felt like . . . a stupid, na?ve bitch.

Being in that mindset caused me to retreat from everyone.

I wouldn’t even talk to my coworkers, and patients were starting to take notice, especially ones that had seen me before.

I wanted to take time off, but I’d already used up my days.

If I took days off, I wouldn’t be getting paid for them.

Right now, I needed all my lil coins, especially after buying a bedroom suit, living room furniture, and a table.

I should have financed it, but I was thinking about the interest I would be paying if I did.

I paid cash for it, then found out two days later that my apartment wouldn’t be ready as promised. I was sinking. I could feel it.

Going to the bouquet, I pulled the card from the stem.

I was expecting a long drawn out note on it, but there wasn’t.

There was only his signature. I closed my eyes and held it to my chest. This was so hard.

My heart wanted to give in and lay in his arms like I did nearly a week ago, but my mind was rejecting him, saying I wasn’t ready.

I needed to get over my feelings of betrayal, sadness, and rejection before allowing him to pull me into a relationship I wasn’t mentally ready for.

Glover was a doctor. It would be easy for him to cheat.

All he would have to say was that he got an emergency call or got called in to help out in the emergency room.

I would drive myself insane trying to keep up with him and his whereabouts.

I sat in my chair and took deep breaths, praying that things would get easier for me.

I knew my breakup was fresh, and I just needed time, but I knew Glover was trying to pull away from me simply because of how impersonal the note on the flowers was.

If he pulled away, maybe he wasn’t for me anyway.

Sliding the card in one of my desk drawers, I booted up my computer then went to get a cup of coffee. Tremeka appeared next to me and slid her hand to mine. She was my work bestie and the only person I talked to about my personal business. She still didn’t know everything.

“Laney, are you okay? You’ve had bags under your eyes all week. This isn’t you.”

I nodded. “I’m okay.”

“No, you aren’t. There are rumors going around that you’ve been sleeping here and that your car is full of shit. Did that nigga put you out before you could get a place?” she asked quietly.

I closed my eyes, knowing that I would be sleeping in my car in the visitor parking section of the garage from now on. After stirring my coffee, I looked up at Tremeka, and said, “I’m fine.”

She left me alone for now, after glancing at the flowers, but I knew she would be pressing me to talk later.

I would do my best to avoid her. I slowly shook my head and went back to my desk.

I set my coffee down, then moved the bouquet to the top of file cabinet, out of the way.

I flopped in my chair and got on the computer to see what orders had come through as I sipped my coffee.

When I saw one from Dr. Israel, I tried to ignore it, because I didn’t want to possibly see him.

He was done with me and that shit hurt more than I thought it would.

I huffed loudly and accepted it since the orders assigned to me were all on that floor anyway.

Getting up, I went to check the basket to see if there were any more on the same floor and found two.

I took them from the pile, went back to my desk for my name badge, walkie talkie, and coffee, then made my way to the ninth floor.

The minute I walked off the damn elevator, I saw him.

He was smiling at some nurse, and she was laughing like he was Katt Williams doing an HBO special.

I tried to ignore them as I made my way around the desk to log into the computer.

I wasn’t in the mood for this shit. I didn’t speak to a soul.

Once I got logged in and pulled up the patient information, I made my way to the room.

The orders didn’t come from Dr. Israel, so hopefully he wouldn’t micromanage me today.

I knocked when I got to the patient room, then opened the door. I walked in to see he was eating breakfast. “Good morning. I’m Delaney, and I’m here to get blood.”

“Ugh!” he said and huffed. “I hate needles.”

I gave him a tight smile, but I didn’t say anything. Once I’d verified his name and birthdate, I grabbed his arm, looking for a vein to draw from. “They normally get it from my hand.”

I glanced up at him. “Is that where you prefer me to go?”

“Yes, ma’am. I hate being stuck more than once. Although it hurts there, I only have to endure it once.”

I nodded and got the butterfly needle from the cart. I wasn’t sure why he didn’t have an IV set up that I could draw from, but whatever the reason, it wasn’t my business. I cleaned his hand then stuck him to get blood.

“Oh shit!” he yelled and jerked his hand, pulling the needle out.

I frowned at him as the blood leaked down his hand. That shit pissed me off. I grabbed an alcohol pad and cleaned his hand, then got a cotton ball and a Band-Aid. Without saying a word, I cleaned the spot I was going to go into initially.

“You’re not sticking me again.”

“It’s your fault why I have to stick you again. You jerked your hand and caused the needle to come out.”

“Get me someone else!”

I politely gathered my things and threw the needle in the proper receptacle, and nearly walked into Dr. Israel. He had a slight frown on his face, but I didn’t give a fuck. “He wants someone else. He jerked and caused the needle to come out, but he’s acting like that’s my fault.”

I took off my gloves and threw them in the trash and sanitized my hands on my way out of the door, not giving him a chance to respond.

I went straight to the nurses’ station and told them he requested someone else stick him.

They all looked dumbfounded. I never had a patient request someone else.

I entered the details of what happened in his chart, then went to the next patient.

Before I could walk inside the patient’s room, I heard my name being called. I turned to see Dr. Israel approaching me. “Is that all that happened? He said you were rude.”

“I wasn’t rude, but I guess like the customer at businesses, the patient is always right, huh? I told him what I was there for, gave him a slight smile, and proceeded to do my job, sticking him where he wanted me to stick him.”

I tried to walk away from him, but he grabbed my arm. “Maybe you should go home and start over.”

“Maybe you should mind your business.”