At just after one, I walk into the staffroom to have my lunch. And just like that, I’m back to feeling like I don’t fit in. It’s here that I really notice how cliquey this place really is. I feel like I’ve just backtracked ten years and landed myself back in high school.
I find a table in near the back of the room and sit down. I busy myself with my phone, pretending I don’t care that I’m sitting alone. Lucky for me, James has left me a few messages to catch up on. I smirk as I read the first one.
James: You know, two hours without contact … I’m beginning to have Arsy withdrawals.
Me: I know a clinic for that.
James: You run a clinic? Nice. I guess you’d get through a lot more fetishes that way.
Me: You know it. My biggest client is your dad.
James: Okay, you owe me dry-cleaning on my shirt after that. What was once a white shirt is now coffee stained.
Me: Sure. Send me the bill. It was worth it.
I tuck my phone back into my pocket and leave the cafeteria. I make the mistake of going left instead of right. I turn around not sure where I am. I see the water fountain and smile. I was going the right way after all. I step around the corner without considering something might be coming from the other way and bam.
“Shit,” I gasp, staring at the guy sprawled out on the floor.
I start to giggle because he looks like a turtle who’s been flipped onto his back and he can’t get up. My giggling turns into full fledged laughter. The more he tries to flail his arms and get up, the harder I laugh. I take his hand and help him stand up then I quickly work to gather the papers.
“God, I’m so sorry,” I gasp.
“For knocking me over or laughing hysterically when you did?” he asks.
“Um …” Well, this is awkward.
He breaks into a smile.
“Seriously, don’t stress. You’re the fourth person to do that to me today.”
“Really?” I ask.
“No.” He smiles at me again and I laugh. “I’m Linton, by the way.”
“Darcy,” I say, still feeling bad about hysterically laughing at the poor guy.
“So, do you always laugh at people when you knock them off their feet or am I just lucky?”
“Rarely, I promise. You just looked like a helpless little turtle,” I say with a shrug, struggling to keep another round of laughter from escaping.
He glances down. “Is it the sweater?”
“No, I think it was more the helpless flapping of the arms.” I giggle.
He chuckles and falls into line next to me, walking with me down the hallway.
“So,” he asks. “Do you work here? I haven’t seen you around …”
“Because it’s only my second day,” I explain.
“Nice. You look a little young to be a psychiatrist though?” he observes.
“I’ve just finished a psych degree and I’m deciding what I do next,” I explain. “I’m not sure what I’d call my role here. Intern, I guess? I’m working with Sarah Sanders.”
He laughs. “Ah, she’s a total bitch, huh?”
“She’s not that bad,” I say.
I’m not sure if I’m being entrapped into saying something, so I err on the side of caution. Maybe this really is the fourth time he’s been knocked down today. For all I know, he’s an informant. I shake my head.
Settle down, Nancy Drew. You ran into him, remember?
“Relax.” He laughs. “I’m kidding. She’s my sister.”
“Oh,” I say, relieved. Then I remember what she told me about her brother. “Oh.”
“Oh?” he repeats, raising his eyebrows. “Nothing good ever comes after a high pitched oh.”
“If that’s what you think then you’re doing it wrong,” I joke.
He studies me for a moment. “She told you, didn’t she?”
“Told me what?”
“She told you about me.”
I stare at him, my mouth dropping open. He laughs and curses under his breath.
“When is she going to learn to keep her mouth shut,” he grumbles. “Is it too much to ask that my personal life not be spread right around this place? And now you probably think we’re going to hook up…”
“Uh no, I most definitely do not think that, because I’m not into—”
“Into what? Overweight men, who enjoy the softness of artificial fur?”
“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, but I’m not—”
“Relax,” he laughs and adjusts his glasses. “I’m messing with you again. I don’t know how she got that idea in her head, but trust me, you’re not someone I can relate to, if you know what I mean. And even if you were, I would not be hitting on you.” He frowns. “Wait, I’m not saying you’re not attractive, you are. I’m just really…”
He pauses while searching for the right words.
“Gay.”
I smile at him. “So … you’re saying you’d be into me if our stars were aligned?”
“Honey, we’d need a lot more than our stars to align but yes.” He smirks at me. He glances at his watch. “I'm late for a meeting, but it was great getting to know you. There’s nothing quite like awkwardly discussing someone’s sexual preferences with them during the first five minutes of knowing them.”