She looked exhausted as she laid her purse on the foot of the bed, and collapsed into the chair. I had enough time to tuck the napkin into one of the pockets of my hospital gown.
“I told you to go home,” I said, and Ava looked to me. For a moment, I thought she might yell at me, but she didn't.
“I'm fine, Falon. They want me to work another eleven to seven tonight though,” she replied.
She probably couldn't tell, and I was kind of hoping she couldn't, but that didn't bother me at all. The night was what I was looking forward to.
“Which is why you need to go home and get some rest,” I told her, opening my can of Pringles and eating one, though, you could not possibly eat only one. It was an impossible thing.
She raised a brow. “You just don't want me up here,” she replied.
I raised my brow. “And why wouldn't I want my favorite person in the world here with me?” I asked, my sarcasm escaping me.
Ava looked at my Pringles and then bit her lip. “You met Julie, didn't you?” she asked.
I refused to look at her, and suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. I closed the can and pushed the table away from me as Ava stood and came to the bed.
“There's no reason to pout, Falon. She's really sweet, isn't she?” she asked, smiling at me.
“I'm not pouting,” I told her defiantly, but didn't look at her.
I felt like a fool.
Ava narrowed her eyes, her teasing gone and replaced by something I knew all too well.
Concern.
“What's wrong? Did she say something wrong?” she asked, reaching forward to touch my hand.
I laughed bitterly, rolling my eyes. “Does she seem like someone who would say something bad to you, Ava?” I asked her.
Ava was watching me, I knew the feeling. “Then, why are you acting so weird?”
“I'm not acting weird.”
“Yes, Falon, you are.”
I glared at her.
She crossed her arms, and got that motherly look to her. I hated that look more than anything. It was so controlling, and forceful, as if that blatant stare could make me confess anything.
It could. I hated it, but it could.
“We talked, Ava, okay? I had a normal conversation with her about rainbow Icees and Cabal,” I told her, still avoiding her gaze, though I felt it's uncomfortable pressure on my face.
“Why are you acting weird then?” she asked, as if she didn't get it. She didn't understand what I was saying to her.
I looked at her, raising my brow. “We talked. And she didn't ask about my burns, or look at me strange, or anything. She didn't react to the way I look at all,” I told her.
Ava softened, and stared at me. “Was she suppose to?” she asked.
I stared at her, baffled. “Of course she is! I'm an ugly monster, Ava. I look like this,” I stressed, gesturing toward my face. “And she looks. . .”
I couldn't bring myself to tell my sister how I thought she looked. That was just overstepping the Brother/Sister boundaries for me. I didn't want her telling me how she thought the Good Doctor looked. It would just be weird.
But Ava didn't need me to tell her how I thought Julie looked. I knew she could tell, but that wasn't the part she had caught to. She had become more focused on what I had said about myself.
“You are not ugly, and you're not a monster,” she told me, refusing to allow my eyes to wander. “You are just like any other teenage boy out there, and if you have a crush on Julie-”
“I do not have a crush on her,” I intercepted quickly.
“If you have a crush on any girl,” my sister restarted, though we both knew she was still referring to Julie. “I want you to remember that you are still a guy. Not every girl cares about looks,” she told me.
It didn't make me feel any better. The only way that looks didn't matter was if the person was pitying the ugly. I didn't want Julie's pity.
I didn't have a crush on her either.
I swear.
“Falon?” my sister said, and she was staring at me, worried over my answer. She wanted me to say that she was right, so I did, though it didn't mean it was true, or that I believed it.
The doctor came a few minutes later, after Ava had settled into the chair, writing down our bills in a butterfly notepad that she kept in her purse. Whenever asked, she'd always say that she was just doodling, but I wasn't stupid.
The doctor and Ava still looked at each other the way beautiful people always looked at each other. They were sizing the other up, as if to make sure they were good enough.
Julie hadn't looked at me like that.
Not that I cared.
Because I didn't.
“Hello, Ms. Walker,” he said nicely, smiling at my sister.
“Just Ava,” she replied back.
I almost threw up in my mouth.
Doctor Marstens then looked to me, and he smiled kindly enough, but it was still mostly for Ava. “Good morning, Falon,” he replied.
“Just Mr. Walker,” I replied, using a tone that almost matched Ava's.
“Falon!”
I looked to Ava, who looked horrified, and Dr. Marstens, who looked unsure of what boundary he had stepped over. I raised a brow. “It was a joke,” I told her, trying to keep myself from laughing at the red stain across her cheeks.
Dr. Marstens smiled slightly, looking relieved at the revelation. “It's hard to tell when you're joking. You can keep such a solemn face,” he replied.
I probably shouldn't have, but
