“Oh God, who’s coming?” Renn stops my rambling.
“Right.” I clear my throat. “Someone named Simon Blackwood.”
Simon. Blackwood.
I roll that name around in my head.
If names were an indication of someone’s personality, then this Simon Blackwood would be strong, masculine, and regal. But then, names aren’t everything.
Take me, for example. Willow clearly, isn’t the name for me. Although, I can’t imagine what else could be my name.
“Is he like, The Blackwood?” Penny asks.
“What is The Blackwood? What does that mean?” I ask.
“How can you not know what The Blackwood means?” Renn’s face scrunches up in disgust. “He’s the guy who founded this place, Willow. Dr. Alistair Blackwood. Well, you know, along with Dr. Martin. I bet Simon Blackwood is related to him in some way.”
Dr. Martin is the psychiatrist in here who oversees things. I’ve only met with him once, when I first got in and thank God for that. I generally spend my time with a therapist or in group therapy.
Doctors are the worst kind of people. Pretentious, arrogant, obnoxious. Most of them have a God-complex. They think everyone needs saving and they are the only one who can do it.
They think that they can ruin your life whenever they want to. Turn your mom against you because they really think you’d benefit from in-patient treatment.
Fucking assholes.
I shift in my seat, feeling embarrassed. “Well, I just heard the nurses talking.”
Renn sits back with a smile. “Oooh. Do you think he’s a doctor too?”
“Could be.” This comes from Penny.
Damn it.
If someone new is coming, I don’t want them to be a doctor. This stupid hospital doesn’t need another evil overlord.
Renn widens her eyes before craning her neck toward the door, as if whoever Simon is, he’s gonna come striding in. “Oh my God, I’m so intrigued. Oh, please let him be handsome. And older. Like, at least ten years older. I’ve got a thing for older guys,” she informs us, like we don’t know.
“Or maybe he’s not a doctor. He’s a patient. Not everyone follows in their parents’ footsteps,” I say.
“Whatever. I just want him to be older.”
“Yes, let him be older,” I agree and Renn fist-pumps. And then, just to tease her, I add, “Oh, and wrinkled. Yup, a wrinkled old man who farts twice every hour.”
Renn flips me the bird and my smile widens.
“Why don’t you guys want me to eat?” Penny pushes her tray away in disgust. “If he’s a doctor, then this kind of talk is inappropriate.”
“How about we bet on it? We can play for lime jello.” Renn grins.
On the Outside, I hated lime jello. It looks like puke, tastes like puke. It’s plain puke. But on the Inside, it’s all I ever wanna eat. I don’t know why.
Could be the meds. They started me on a new cocktail as soon as I got here and that’s always a disaster. My first week here wasn’t pretty what with all the withdrawal-like symptoms that I went through after being taken off my old meds. They say my drugs aren’t addictive but still, it felt like I was attacked by a stomach bug.
Meds have fucked with my life a lot. My body is thirty percent me, and the other seventy is what meds made me. I wouldn’t be surprised if they fucked my palate too. Renn calls it The Heartstone Effect; fuckery of drugs and psychotherapy.
Penny thinks about Renn’s offer. “Fine. My money’s on a new doctor, only five years older than Renn,” she says, before picking up her book and resuming reading.
Renn sticks her tongue out at her, before turning to the fourth occupant of our table. “What about you, Vi? You want in on this?”
Vi, aka Violet Moore. She doesn’t talk much. In fact, she’s the one I’ve got a lot of things in common with. She’s quiet. She’s more or less invisible. People pass her by without noticing.
But unlike me, I think she chooses to be invisible. It’s because she’s grieving. Her fiancé died a few months ago and she might as well have died with him. No one knows what caused his death, not even Renn, and I haven’t had the courage to ask Vi.
I wish I could.
I wish I could ask her what she thinks about when she stares out the window. She clearly isn’t watching the rain like me. I wish I could ask her why she always has an empty chair next to her. Is it for her fiancé? Is she waiting for him as if he were alive and might walk over any second to take his place?
When Renn calls her name, Vi turns away from the window, bringing her flat brown eyes to us. “I’m with Renn. He’s a handsome new doctor with at least fifteen years on us.”
“Perfect. I’m so excited,” Renn squeals.
Just as Renn sets out the rules, Beth enters the hall. She’s Dr. Martin’s wife and the hospital administrator.