Teach Me To Wait

Carlos' POV:

"Hey Logiebear, how's the patient man?" I asked, clasping hands with my co-worker and best friend, Logan Mitchell. I watched as his face grew paler than it already was.

"Carlos...didn't I tell you not to call me that in front of, you know..." Logan whispered to me, hinting towards the secret love of his life, Camille. She wasn't even watching or anything, but apparently that didn't matter.

I laughed. "Oh please, she'll think it's cute." I say softly, before calling loudly to her. "Hey, Camille! Logan's new nickname is Logiebear, okay! That's spelle E-"

"Okay, Carlos, how about you shut up, and I tell you about my patient?"

I shrugged. Teasing Logan was fun, but there's always a point where I go too far and Logan chases me through the streets with an ax shaped guitar. (Long story.)

"Well, in terms of amnesia patients, this one's doing pretty well. She knows-"

"Ooh, so your patient's a girl. Is she pretty?"

"Carlos, she's 7 years old." Logan stated matter of factly, giving me the you're stupid look. "And besides no female will ever catch my attention-unless it's, um, you know-" Logan whispered awkwardly. He had a strange inability to say people's names if they were within a 10 feet radius.

"Logan. You can say her name you know. It's Camille. Camille, Camille, Camille. I'm Logan and I'n in love with Camille!" I mocked, a little louder than I should've. Camille turned around, checking to see if she was either hallucinating, or someone was calling her name. She shrugged and walked to the Intensive Care Unit.

"Good job, Carlos. Now as I was saying, she knows her own name and still remembers who her family is, and wants to see them again. She doesn't remember anything about the accident or how she got seperated from them. I believe after we take a few brain scans, we'll know what kind of treatment she needs, and then she'll be back in no time."

I smiled. Dr. Logan has solved another medical crime. Ever since we were little, playing Pee Wee hockey and arguing all the time, Logan still had that dream of becoming a doctor. He hasn't found the cure for cancer or found out how to resurrect the dead yet, but he was now a pretty amazing doctor. And not to brag or anything, but I think I'm pretty amazing too. When the time came for us to start exploring full-time jobs (which was at the age of 15, because we had such good grades, we graduated at 16), I found out being El Hombre Del Flaming Space Rock Man as a job wouldn't work out, so I went to this doctor's training convention with Logan. I only went because I was bored and Logan was there, but then I found out how fun and easy the job was.

So here we are the Loginator and I, being doctors together at St. Luigi's Medical Center. I'm not sure why they don't just call it The Hospital.

So today, I was getting assigned a student that needed to go through mental therapy and basic education. I didn't have all the information, but I was excited about getting to bond with a kid and help them improve at the same time. But hopefully it's a girl. That's not seven years old.


I followed closely behind Dr. Joshua DeLouise, an old (don't tell him I said that) French doctor who'd been at this hospital so long, he practically owned the place. He was the big boss man. He was really kind, and we all respected him very much.

"We don't have much information on this kid you'll be working with. Only the nurse who raised him, who is off on maternity leave, and the kid himself know the facts. Everything won't be completely accurate because the kid only knows what Nurse Landra told him, and she only knows what the anonymous woman who dropped him off told her. I assume the woman made up his name and birthday." Dr. DeLouise explained, stopping at the doorway of the designated room. I noticed we were in the Special Ward.

"Dr. DeLouise, why is he in the Special Ward though? Is he insane? Has he been diagnosed with any sort of disease?"

He sighed and gave me a sad smile. "As I said, we don't have much information." And with that lovely message, Dr. DeLouise walked away, and I was still unsure about what I was supposed to do when I walked in.

Deep breath. Here goes nothing.

I opened the door, stunned by the bright light from the window, which bounced off of the white walls, white ceiling, white everything. The only thing not white in the room was the kid-well not kid, boy. Maybe even man.

In the corner of the room sat a boy, that looked maybe about my age, dressed in a blue graphic shirt and skinny jeans. The hospital funded him with some nice clothing. And it wasn't the clothing that got me, it was the boy. He had long brown locks that swept over his forehead, tan skin, and staring hazel eyes. He looked sort of...beautiful. For a boy at least.

"Hi," I said carefully. He may be hot, but I still didn't know if he was rabbid or not. The boy, who was sitting in the corner on the hospital bed, brought his knees to his chest.

"Are you Dr. Garcia?" The boy asked quietly, but his voice sent a chill through thee air. It was strong and silky.

I nodded. "Please, call me Carlos."

He nodded in a sort of approval. "Carlos."

"Yes, now what's your name sweetie?" It felt kind of weird calling a boy my age-who was much bigger than me-"sweetie". But he didn't seem to mind. He mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"James."

Hmm...James...Fits him I guess. I approved, so like him, I nodded. "Okay James, well I'm going to need to know any information about you that you know, okay? Don't be shy about saying anything. It's just for hospital records."

I sat down, carefully, on the other side of the hospital bed. James shifted so he was sitting criss-cross-applesauce. And yes, I still call it that.

"Okay. My name is James Diamond. I'm 16 years old. My birthday is February 15, 1996. My parents, they d-died in a car crash-" James paused. I noticed his voice had started to weaken as he said that, and his eyes were tearing up. I put a hand on his shoulder, and he gladly did not bite it off. "An anonymous woman, supposively a friend of theirs found me in their apartment. I was crying, and she couldn't find a way to comfort me. She took care of me the rest of the day, she was a kind woman. But she could not raise me as her own. It would be too difficult. So the next night, she brought over here and left me with the only nurse available, Nurse Landra. She is like a mother to me, but now she is having her own child and can't see me anymore. Since she left, everyone here has been taking pity on me trying to offer up anything they can, but I don't need help. I just want someone who loves me again."

I stared into James' eyes. They were full of sadness, but he was smiling. I'm not sure how he could tell such a sad life story without bursting into tears, because all I did was listen and I'm about ready to start crying. Poor boy...who is actually many months older than me.

"I see," I whispered, finishing writing notes on my clipboard. "And excuse me for asking this, but you don't have any...known diseases, right?"

He shook his head calmly. Whew. Good thing he's not a nutcase.

"Well, why did they put you in the Special Ward if nothing's wrong with you?" James tensed and he gritted his teeth. I was about to rethink my conclusion that he's not insane and out to get me, but he stayed like that and didn't move a muscle.

"I am a special case." James growled, surprising me with his harshness. "They knew I wouldn't be able to live in one of those crummy hospital rooms with tubes and monitors and medicine, feeling like there was something wrong with me. So they put me in here, living like all the Special Ward patients...in a calm, plain environment where they make sure I get enough of everything, and people can visit me. Except, I don't have strait jackets or huge foam cubes on my hands."

I laughed at that part. But James didn't seem to be trying to be funny, so I shut up.

"Okay, I understand. Now do you have any questions about the learning and therapy procedures I'll be doing with you for the next few months?"

James looked up, as if thinking really really hard to find a good question. "Tell me your basic information. I want to know more about you."

I furrowed my eyebrows. James wants to know my basic information?

"No, I meant about the education you'll be getting. The whole basic information thing about you was only for hospital purposes..."

James scooted a little closer, turning to face me. "Well I live in the hospital. And I want to know your basic information. Therefore, this is hospital purposes."

Well then.

"Touche'. Umm, well I am Carlos Garcia. My birthday is on December 19, 1996. I was born in Venezuela, but moved here to Minnesota when I was 2. I have no siblings, and I have a stay a home mom and a police officer dad. My best friend works here, his name is Logan Mitchell and we grew up together, playing hockey. We went to high school early, and then early college due to good grades. And here I am, being a doctor. Is that enough?"

James nodded sadly. I realized I pretty much just rubbed it in that I had everything he didn't have-a real home, parents, friends, known origin, an education, and a job. But all of a sudden he smiled.

"And you don't have any known diseases correct?"

I laughed. This guy was actually pretty funny.

"No...except sometimes I have the tendency to believe that I am a superhero and can actually fly. I don't think they've discovered that disease yet." I said, partly jokingly, but actually telling the truth. I've suffered through a broken arm, a broken tail bone, and a sprained ankle, thinking that I could fly.

"And one more thing." James said softly, looking down, hiding his facial expression. I cocked my head to the side in curiousity. "I think you're really cute."

I blushed bright red. James wasn't looking at me, but I was freaking out. He thinks I'm cute? Really cute? I panicked.

I looked down at my wrist, checking the "time" even though I had no watch. "Oh, well, look at the time, my shift's over. See ya James." I said in a rush, very un-professional-doctorly-like.

And as I quickly walked out of the Special Ward, through the hospital hallways, and out on the streets for my lunch break, his words echoed through my head.

Tell me your basic information.

I want to know more about you.

And one more thing.

I think you're really cute.

It echoed over and over again.

I think you're really cute.

I think you're really cute.

I think you're really cute.

I mentally replied to him in my head.

Me too James, me too.


Yay! Hospital Jarlos drama I thought of in my sleep! More chapters to come.