Ch: 2 Doctors and Dive Bars
"Are you okay to walk with me helping you like this?" He couldn't help but notice that she was still limping and he felt terrible about it since he was the reason she was hurt and covered in mud. She is small enough I could easily carry her. If only I would have remembered to charge my phone before getting on the plane, I could have just called an ambulance to come get her instead of her having to walk on her bad ankle.
He continued to walk towards the sidewalk that she pointed to. He glanced down at her to see if she was still struggling and he realized that she was looking up at him.
"Yeah, it's fine." She answered. As she answered him she got the weirdest look on her face, like she had seen a ghost, and it made him nervous.
"Are you sure you're okay with walking? We could flag a cab down or something?" he said, trying to shake off the nerves he was feeling from her weird facial expression a moment ago.
"No, that's okay. It's only a few blocks, anyway," she answered hurriedly. Her demeanor definitely had changed, and he wasn't exactly sure why. Her ankle must just hurt, he thought as he tried to brush it off.
He continued to help her walk, lost in his own thoughts. Before he knew it, they were at the entrance of the hospital. I guess it was really close. He helped her into the emergency room entrance and into a chair. He walked over to the front desk and told them why they were there. The woman at the desk looked up with an annoyed look on her face and handed him a clipboard with some papers on it and with a pen attached to the clipboard by a string.
"Fill these out and bring them back," the older woman grumbled. He walked back to where he had left the girl and handed her the clipboard. He sat down in the chair next to her, and realized a few people were staring at him, so he pulled his hat down a little further and turned to look at the girl.
He hadn't gotten a chance to look at get a good look at her, since he had been more worried about getting her some help. Her lips were large, full, and a deep pink, with a small shapely nose above them. Thick dark lashes framed brown eyes with flecks of green and lighter brown throughout them. Her skin was light and smooth but slightly tanned liked she had spent some time in the sun recently. Her hair was long, dark brown - nearly black - and pulled up into a tight pony tail, with some hairs around her face sticking because of sweat and some mud. She didn't seem to be wearing any make-up, or if she had been wearing any her sweat had washed it away. Even somewhat disheveled with mud in various places he thought that she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.
He realized that he was probably staring at her, and was grateful for her focusing on the clipboard, because otherwise she might have noticed.
"Thank you for helping me get here but you don't have to stay," she said as she continued to write on the papers in front of her.
"I don't mind staying to make sure you make it home alright, if you don't mind the company." He was going to say her name but realized they hadn't actually introduced themselves. "I'm Sidney, by the way," he said as he reached his hand out to her, offering a handshake.
"Riley," she said as she grabbed his hand and shook it. He noticed that her face had started to turn a light shade of pink, and he wasn't sure why she was blushing, but he found it endearing. They sat there in silence as she finished filling out the forms on the clipboard and she went to get up to take the papers to the woman at the front desk.
As soon as he saw her trying to stand he stopped her, "Let me take that up for you."
She handed him the clipboard and he took it back to the woman that hadn't been the most welcoming when they arrived. He handed the woman the paperwork and stood there, waiting to see if she was going to say anything. She just rolled her eyes and angrily said "we'll call the name when we're ready for you." She definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed, he thought to himself as he made his way back to Riley.
He was happy that they had decided to sit in the corner, sort of away from the main part of the waiting room with the majority of chairs because he realized that there were a good number of people looking at him, probably recognizing him.
He sat back down, trying to turn away from the others in the waiting room and to ignore the attention. "So, Riley, what do you for a living?"
"I'm a medical student at the University of Pennsylvania," she smiled as she answered.
He was a little caught off guard by her answer. Does that mean she's going to be a doctor? She looks barely old enough to even be out of college. "That's cool…Sorry to ask, but how old are you? Honestly, you don't look old enough to be a doctor."
"Almost a doctor. I don't graduate until next Spring. I don't mind you asking, I actually get asked that all the time by the patients I help care for. I'm 24. I'll be 25 at the end of next month." She laughed as she answered. He was glad that she wasn't offended by his question, and he wasn't really sure what prompted him to ask. He usually isn't so forward. She's only a few years younger than me.
As he was thinking to himself, he heard her start to speak but then stop, like she couldn't decide what she wanted to say. He looked up at her and realized that the slight blushing that had been on her face was darker now, and he was worried that he had embarrassed her, but before he could say anything she started to talk again.
"I feel like it's only a common courtesy to ask you what you do for a living in return, but…" she said, growing an even darker shade of red. He started to feel nervous. What is she going to say? Maybe she wants me to leave. Why do I even care?
"…I already know what you do for a living."
Now it makes sense why she looked at me like she had seen a ghost. At least she had been polite, unlike a lot of others I come across in rival cities.
"I just didn't want to be weird and act like I knew you," she said, breaking him away from his thoughts.
"I was worried what you were going to say. I'm not always the most loved person in this city," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a slight smile on his face.
"What do you mean? People don't actually give you a hard time, do they?" she said, with a wistful laugh.
"Well, when you're the captain of one of the Flyers biggest rival teams you're not always the person people like seeing on the street. I was actually trying to avoid some people that were getting a little rowdy on my way back to my hotel from dinner when I stepped into the trail and got in your way."
He looked up at her, and realized that the red has disappeared from her face and she was flashing a huge, toothy grin, with straight, white teeth that made her lips look even darker against their brightness.
"Well you don't have to worry about me giving you a hard time. I was born and raised in Pittsburgh, and no matter where I live I'll always be a fan of the black and gold. I'm just here for school. Actually, my little brother would probably kill me if he knew I was talking to you and he missed out," she said, still grinning. "Plus, you were nice enough to spend your time helping my clumsy butt get here."
That made all of his nervous energy melt away. "Clumsy, eh? You wouldn't need to be here if I had watched where I was going." He wasn't sure what else to say. He remembered how she lit up talking about what she does, so he figured he could keep talking to her about that. He really didn't want to talk about himself. All anyone ever wants to talk about is his life.
"So you said that you'll be done next year, eh? Do you know what kind of doctor you're going to be?"
"Yeah, I'll be done next May. My goal is to be a pediatric orthopedic surgeon. I'll actually be back in Pittsburgh at the beginning of next month for my first away rotation at Shadyside hospital. I'm really excited to get to spend some time back home," she said with her grin growing even larger. Man does she have a beautiful smile.
They continued to banter back and forth for a while with the conversation covering favorite places to eat back home and fun things to do here in Philadelphia. About 30 minutes had passed when a nurse had come into the waiting room and was announcing her name.
"Riley Martin?" the nurse announced. Riley raised her hand, alerting the nurse to her location. She tried to stand up but she was still in some pain, so he quickly helped her up and over to the nurse that was calling her name. The nurse led them to a bed behind a curtain and said that the doctor would be in soon.
He was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, thinking that maybe she would like some privacy back here with the doctor, and he was going to offer to wait for her in the waiting room, but an older man in a long white coat walked in past the curtains.
"Riley? What happened?" the man said, standing next to the bed she was sitting on.
"Hi, Dr. Marcus. I just had a little accident. I think I sprained my ankle. I doubt anything is broken, but I figured I'd come to get it checked out to make sure," she replied quickly.
"She also hit her head pretty hard," he chimed in from the corner of the room. She quickly glanced at him, not in a scolding manner, but like she had forgotten he was there.
"Alright, Riley. We'll take you for x-rays of your ankle," the doctor said as he pulled a pen light out of his pocket.
"Look straight ahead," he said as he shined the light in one eye and then the other. He had her watch his finger as he moved it around in various patterns, and then had her tap his finger with hers in different locations. He then had a look at Riley's ankle, pressing on various parts to see what hurt or not.
"I think your head is fine, but we'll get you a quick non-contrast CT to be safe," he said as he walked out of the room. Riley sighed as the doctor walked out, almost like she had been holding her breath.
"That's one of my preceptors. He's a very no-nonsense kind of guy. He always makes me nervous," she said looking at the ground. "Thanks for mentioning my head. I had actually forgotten about it."
"No problem. I have personal experience with concussions and it isn't something that you want to miss, but I'm sure you already know that, future doctor and all," he said. She didn't reply but just smiled. A moment later a nurse was there with a wheel chair to get her, and said that they'd be back in about 15 or 20 minutes.
He sat there staring around the room. It looked like a pretty typical emergency room. A sink with containers of cotton balls, tongue depressors, and alcohol swabs lining the counter. Some white cabinets and drawers next to machines that he wasn't sure what they were for. As he was looking around the room, a young male nurse pushed the curtain to the side and walked in towards him.
"Hey, man. Sorry for barging in on you, but I heard through the grape vine that you were here and, um, I'm a big fan. I was wondering if I could get an autograph?" the nurse asked.
"Sure," he replied standing up to walk towards the nurse. The man handed him a sharpie marker and a notebook. He signed it quickly, handing it back to him and shaking his hand.
"Thank you," the nurse said with a grin as he was walking out of the curtain.
"You're welcome," he said, sitting back in the chair in the corner of the room. He was used to being approached by people for autographs, and he didn't mind it most of the time, but it felt awkward in this situation. He continued to mindlessly look around the room. About ten minutes later Riley was brought back in the wheel chair.
"The doctor should be back in a few minutes to go over your scans with you," the nurse said as she helped Riley back onto the bed in the room and walked out.
"Hi," she said, as she turned to look at him sitting in the corner of the room.
"Hi," he said back, smirking at her. An awkward silence fell over the room, and he wasn't sure what to say. He was relieved when the doctor walked in.
"Let's get a look at your scans," the doctor said as he sat down at a computer in the room. "You're ankle isn't broken, and your CT scan looked fine. We'll get your ankle wrapped and give you some Ibuprofen to help with the swelling and pain. Just elevate it and put some ice on it to help. It should be better in a few days." He said as he got up to leave the room.
"I told you I was okay," she said, smiling at him.
"Well now we know that you're okay and I don't have to feel quite as bad for hurting you," he said shaking his head.
"It's not only your fault, you know. I wasn't looking where I was going, either," she said, still smiling. Her smile was overwhelming and contagious. He couldn't remember the last time he smiled so much. I must look like a goofball.
A nurse came into the room a few minutes later. She got some ace bandages out of one of the cabinets in the room and quickly wrapped her ankle. She then handed her 2 large white pills, telling her that it was 1000 mg Ibuprofen, and that she could continue to take more if her ankle still hurt or swelled. Riley thanked the nurse as she handed her the discharge papers and left the room.
She started to try to stand, and he realized what she was doing, quickly standing to help her.
"I'm fine. With the wrap it feels much better, and the Ibuprofen shouldn't take too long to kick in," she said, waving him off. "I'm going to go to the bathroom to try to clean some of this mud off of me," she said, as she walked through the curtain quickly.
She walked out before he had a chance to ask where he should wait for her. Should I just wait here? Go in to the waiting room? Does she even want me to wait for her? He decided that waiting for her out by the front desk in the waiting room would be the best choice. He walked out and sat in one of the chairs in the waiting room. He noticed that the room was much less full than it had been when they had arrived earlier. He checked his watch and was shocked to see that it was already nearly 10pm. A few minutes later she returned to the waiting room. He could tell that she had fixed her hair and washed most of the mud off of her, even though her clothes still had some on it.
"I think I got most of it," she said, spinning around like she was looking for more mud. She was wearing black running pants that came to half-way down her calves and hugged her body like a glove, and a black tank top. She was thin, but with toned, muscular arms and calves. She was kind of tall too, maybe only 3 or 4 inches shorter than him. He worried that he was staring again so he quickly looked up to her face, realizing she hadn't noticed.
"Ready to go?" he asked, holding his arm out as a support for her. She nodded her head and grabbed the arm that he had offered to her. As they walked out the door to the emergency room, he could hear a loud grumbling noise. It took a moment for him to realize that it was coming from her stomach.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, laughing because he already knew the answer.
"I haven't eaten since lunch today. I'll eat once I get home," she hurriedly replied, with the already familiar blush returning to her cheeks.
"Why don't you let me treat you to some dinner? It's the least I can do for causing you all this trouble," he said, stopping on the sidewalk, waiting for her answer. She looked at him for a moment, as if she was going to say no, but then she shook her head up and down.
"Okay. What kind of food do you like?" she said quietly.
"I'm open to just about anything. Have anywhere in mind?" he asked, still standing on the sidewalk right outside of the emergency room.
"Well, are you willing to give a sketchy dive bar a chance? It looks like a horrible place, but they have some of the best late-night food around," she said, biting her bottom lip like she was unsure of her recommendation.
"Lead the way," he replied. Just as they started to walk again he realized that he had forgotten about her ankle. Idiot. She has a hurt ankle and you're asking her to walk even more. "How's your ankle feeling? I can just take you home or we can catch a cab or something if you're still in pain…" he started to say but before he could finish she interrupted him.
"It feels fine. The wrap really made a difference, and the Ibuprofen will help even more in a little bit. Right now, all I care about is food!" she said, giggling. "Plus, you're supporting a lot of my weight, anyway."
He hadn't really realized it, but he had already wrapped his arm around her slim waist like he had on their way to hospital so he could support some her weight. He started to blush, and was grateful that it was dark out so she wouldn't be able to tell as easily. He also was grateful because there were a lot less people outside than had been when it was daylight out. In order to try and take attention away from his embarrassment, he thought of something to talk about quickly.
"So what do you like to do in your free time? Other than run into strangers," he teased.
"Well, lots of things, I guess. It depends on the day and how I'm feeling. If it's a lazy day I like to read, and play some video games once in a while. But most of the time I get outside as much as I can. I'm always so busy or studying indoors that any chance I can get I go outside. I like to hike, and run, and swim, and bike places. When I lived back home I would go kayaking, but there really aren't as many places here to do that. In the winter I like to snowboard or go sledding. Whenever I can get people to play with me I play tennis and, oh uh, other things…" she said. He realized that she had quickly ended her sentence and her mood had changed rapidly. Did her ankle hurt again?
"You okay?" he asked, concerned.
"Ha, yeah I'm fine. I just thought about what I was going to say next and thought it would sound silly saying it to you and got a little embarrassed, I guess," she replied.
This was the second time in one night that she was so straightforward and blunt with what she was feeling. He liked it.
"What could you like to do that would be embarrassing? Do you collect clown dolls or something?" He laughed and looked down at her and could see her blushing, even in the dark.
"Well I do like stuffed animals, but that's not what I was going to say," she said, laughing while releasing a deep breath and continuing, "I play hockey with friends, too," and as she finished he could tell that she was smiling. He didn't even need to look at her. He could hear it in her voice.
"You play hockey, eh? Well, I might know a thing or two about that," he laughed. "What do you play?"
"Just street hockey nowadays, with whoever is around. When I was younger I played deck and ice hockey throughout high school. I stopped when I went to college," she said, smile still in her voice.
"What position?" he said, genuinely interested.
"Up until high school I played goalie, but when I started in high school they transitioned me to center. And now when we play street hockey I just play whatever position is needed depending on how many people we can get to play," she quickly replied.
"That's neat. I tend to play hockey a lot myself," he said, laughing.
"You don't say?" she said, sarcastically, while playfully pushing her body weight into him. "You better watch it or I'll have to play against you, and you'll be embarrassed because a girl will be skating circles around you."
He couldn't help but like her attitude, "I like the confidence. I might have to hold you to that. So why did you stop playing when you went to college?" he asked as they turned a corner, going farther into a not-great looking neighborhood. He definitely would have never ventured to this part of town.
"Well I had a scholarship to play tennis in college, so that's what I did. I also swam in college, so that took over what would have been hockey season," she said happily.
"You must be pretty athletic if you played so many sports," he replied.
"Yeah, I guess," she said, blushing even more. "The bar is only like two more blocks away," she said pointing ahead. He could tell that she didn't like so much attention. "So what is it that you do to blow off steam, Mr. Crosby?"
"I don't get a ton of free time, but when I have it, I like to fish. I like being outdoors and around the water. I read, too. I'm into history, so I like to read different autobiographies. I like to watch TV on my lazy days or play a few video games. Honestly, though, I don't get many days off. Even in the off season I'm training or traveling a lot of the time."
"It seems like you don't get many chances to relax…" she said, her mood dropping a little.
"I like being busy and if I had too much free time I would probably go nuts, and I love hockey and don't mind having to dedicate most of my time to it. I enjoy doing it and want to do it as well as I can for as long as I can," he answered, truthfully.
"That's good to hear. It's refreshing to see someone that enjoys hard work – especially when it's for the hockey team that I happen to root for," she said, giggling to herself again.
A few steps later and she started to speak again, "It's the next door on the right."
He opened the door for her, and as he walked in, to his disappointment the place was packed.
"I guess I should have thought that it'd be super busy on a Friday night," she said apologetically.
"That's okay," he said, trying to see somewhere they could sit. At least it's really dark in here, maybe nobody will recognize me.
"We can just get it to go, maybe? I don't think there is going to be too many tables opening up right now," she said as she looked over a menu she had grabbed from the bar.
He wasn't sure why, but he was relieved to hear that she was okay with just grabbing the food to go. She handed him the menu just as a bar tender walked over towards them. "Hi Riley. What can I get you tonight?"
"Hi, James," she said politely. "I'll have the chicken sausage sandwich and…" she turned around to look at him to see if he had picked anything off of the menu, but he hadn't even been looking at it. He was too busy watching her. Instead of holding them up he decided to order the same thing that she was having.
"You eat here often?" he asked her since the bartender seemed to have known her.
"More than I'd like to admit. I try to eat healthy, but sometimes their food just calls to you! If they served anything chocolate I'd probably never leave," she said patting her stomach. "I have such a bad sweet tooth sometimes."
"Really? I have a thing for chocolate myself. My biggest weakness though has to be Timbits from Tim Hortons," he replied.
"Timbits? What are those?" she asked turning her head to the side a little.
"They're just little donuts that come in a few different flavors. But they're bite sized and dangerous because of it. I can crush a ton of those at once," he said laughing. It looked like she had opened her mouth to reply but before she could he heard someone yell a few feet away from him.
"Hey, it's Sid the Kid!" a man said, walking to come closer. Great. Hopefully he's not drunk, he thought to himself as he turned to the man. Luckily he seemed friendly.
"I wish I had a marker with me because I'd ask you for an autograph! How about a picture?" the man said, already stepping towards him. He just smiled as the man pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of them.
"Hey thanks, man!" he said, walking back to his seat at the bar. The man had brought the attention of a lot of others in the bar, and more people were approaching him asking for autographs or pictures. Since everyone was being friendly he obliged, signing whatever they had for him and smiling politely in the pictures.
After a while of people approaching him he saw Riley out of the corner of his eye grabbing a bag from the bartender. As she turned to look back at him, still taking pictures with the bar-goers, he mouthed "I'm sorry," to her and she just smiled in return. After a few more people took pictures some men from the other side of the bar started to yell things about him not being Giroux, and he decided that it was as good a time as ever to head for the exit. He looked around for Riley again but couldn't see her anymore. He continued to move to the exit, trying to navigate the crowd, still not able to find her.
He decided to step out of the exit to regroup and go back in to get another look, but as he was stepping out of the door he felt a hand lightly grab his wrist. He was going to instinctively pull it away but when he looked to who it was he realized it was her.
"Sorry about that…" he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Is it always like that?" she asked quickly.
"Not always, but it can get pretty hectic a lot of the time. I try to avoid a lot of public places when I can because of it. Sorry," he said, looking disappointed.
"Stop saying sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. From my point of view it was kind of exciting. I've never seen anything like that before," she said, smiling at him. "I got the food," she said lifted the bag she had in her hand.
"I was supposed to treat you to dinner, you know…" he said shaking his head.
"Don't worry about it. It was on the house – James owes me a few favors he's happy to repay in food that I'm always willing to accept."
The last comment made his tension disappear again as she started to open the bag to hand him his sandwich wrapped in foil. She grabbed hers, opened it, and quickly took a bite.
"You don't have to walk me home. It's getting pretty late. I'm sure you have somewhere to be or need to be getting to sleep…" she said after swallowing her bite of food.
"I wouldn't let you walk home alone at night," he said taking a bite of his own sandwich. Wow this is pretty tasty.
"Well aren't you quite the gentleman, Mr. Crosby," she replied playfully. She started to walk towards the way they had come. They walked side by side eating their sandwiches and continuing their small talk. They both finished their sandwiches and threw their wrappers and the bag in a garbage can on the sidewalk.
"How's your ankle feeling? Need any help?" He was worried about her ankle being sore, but he also was kind of disappointed to not have his arm wrapped around her anymore. Jeez, why do you even care? You just met this girl. She probably doesn't want your paws all over her, he thought to himself rolling his eyes.
"It feels fine. The ibuprofen has probably kicked in because it is just throbbing instead of hurting," she said as she made a left at the intersection. They walked a few more blocks as the neighborhood started to look a little nicer.
"So do you like living here?" he asked, trying to get his mind off of having his arm wrapped around her.
"Yeah it's nice. There isn't really anything wrong with it, it just isn't home, ya know? And it's way more expensive to live here, which is why I have a roommate," she said as she twirled her finger in her hair as she walked.
"Oh you have a roommate? How long have you two lived together?" he asked, still trying to get his mind off of her waist.
"Well we've lived together for 3 years since we both moved here, but we've been best friends since we were in diapers. He's a PhD student at UPENN, so it worked out great since we both were coming here," she said.
"Diapers, eh?" he said, smirking at her remark.
"Literally. My mom has more pictures of us as babies than I probably even know exist. Dane's mom and my mom have been best friends since high school and had us about a month apart from each other, so we were forced together basically from birth. I guess it lucked out that we get along so well. We're more like siblings than friends, really. I'm closer to him than my actual brother. My brother is nine years younger than me so I was busy or out of the house for a lot of his life," she said.
"I know what you mean. I have a sister that is 8 years younger than me, so I was gone for most of her childhood, too, even now. I try to see her as much as I can but it can be hard," he said looking down at her. She didn't reply but just shook her head up and down. A moment later she stopped walking and he was so lost in his own thoughts about how they related on the subject of siblings that he almost didn't realize that she had stopped moving.
"Well, this is where I live," she said, standing at the entrance of a large, nice looking apartment building. "Thank you for everything, accident aside," she said smiling. She reached her hand out towards him, "It was nice meeting you," and had a small smile but was looking him straight in the eye.
"Sorry again about that. Make sure you keep an eye out for clueless people on the trail," he said awkwardly shaking her hand in return.
"Goodnight," she said as she opened the door.
"Goodnight, Riley," he said as she disappeared into the building.
He turned and started walking down the sidewalk. What exactly just happened? She just shook my hand? Why am I so disappointed with that? C'mon get your shit together, he thought as he rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced down at his watch and was brought out of his thoughts when he saw that it was almost 11:30. He needed to be up and ready early for a charity event and hop on a plane to get back to Pittsburgh tomorrow.
He raised his hand to signal a cab, waiting for one to pull up to him. He opened the door and climbed in, letting the driver know where to go. As he sat in the back looking out the window he thought that he wouldn't mind seeing her again. It's not every day you meet someone like her, he said in his head as he thought about how her smile had been so contagious. The cab pulled up to his hotel, he paid and thanked him and got out. He walked into the hotel and went to the elevator. He got in the elevator and rode it up to the top floor where he stepped out. He pulled his room key out of his wallet and slid it into the door.
He was grateful to be back, not realizing how tired he had been until now. He walked over to his bedside table and grabbed his dead phone from his pocket to plug it in. Just then he realized it – I didn't get her phone number. I couldn't talk to her again even if I wanted to. He cursed to himself as he got ready for bed.