"Zizes, I swear I was given the rejects of the interns. They all have fucking problems. Well I guess Joe and Bree seem normal but how the hell am I supposed to put a guy that's in a wheelchair to do a surgery? Or a girl that likes to wear pink boas and blurt out random shit?" I said eating my burger.
"I don't know Santana. This seems like a challenge and you're not the type to turn down a challenge," Zizes said.
"That is probably why my father assigned them to me. A challenge is nothing for a Lopez."
"Do you think he wants you to not be a surgeon anymore?" I just shrugged.
"I would be a failure to him," I started, "We weren't raised to start something and not finish. I always feel like I need to prove my worth to him. My brothers just get to be themselves and my father is pleased."
"Lopez, I've seen what you can do. You are a fucking dope ass surgeon. There's nothing you can't do," She said, "You just need to get back to one hundred percent and you'll be in the OR again." I nodded and popped a fry in my mouth.
"I sure hope that'll be soon."
"Keep going to therapy and working on yourself and it'll be sooner than you expect. When I came back from my first tour, I was a mess. I couldn't even handle when people slammed car doors. I stayed inside and wore ear plugs cause all the sound reminded me of Iraq. My family was worried for me and helped me get a therapist and when I went for my first few sessions, I was annoyed. The process, in my opinion, wasn't fast enough. I needed to get better. But once I fully engaged myself into the session, I saw change. I was able to go outside without ear plugs and then I was able to deal with loud and unsuspecting noises like a regular person. I was getting better."
"Why did you do 3 more tours after that? After knowing how bad your first tour got you?"
"Because I love the military. After the first time dealing with my PTSD, I knew proper ways to cope and adjust to the civilian life," Zizes says, "You got this Lopez. You're strong as fuck."
Tuesday rolled around quicker than usual. I sat on the couch in Sue's office.
"What do you want to talk about today?" I asked her. Sue shrugged her shoulders and continued texting.
"What's on your mind?"
"A lot of things."
"Like?"
"I don't know. Just things," I said. She nodded. We sat in silence for fifteen minutes.
"Are you free tomorrow Santana?" Sue asked, breaking the silence.
"Well, I do have work and this is the only day I really am allowed to have off."
"Talk to your father and meet me at this place tomorrow," She handed me a small card, "Obviously the traditional route of therapy isn't working so we need to go off the grid for our sessions." I looked at the card.
"A gun range? I haven't held a gun since Afghanistan."
"No one said you have to hold one," She winked and walked towards the door, "Alright see you tomorrow afternoon."
"See ya."
I was in my room trying to find a good casual outfit to wear when everyone comes over. There was a knock on the door.
"Santanita," My mom said, "Your father and I are leaving to Breadstix. Are you sure you don't want to join us?"
"I'm sure. I'm having a few work friends over for dinner," I told her.
"You're cooking?"
"Yea, why is that a surprise?" I asked chuckling.
"Hija, last time I remember, you can hardly cook toast without a fire bursting out."
"Army taught me a few things. I cook okay now...If I follow the recipe exactly." We both burst out laughing. My mom walked over to me and gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead.
"I talked to your father about tomorrow. He said you can go."
"But?"
"But you have to make up the hours by doing a graveyard shift."
"A graveyard shift in Wednesday and a regular shift on Thursday?" My mom nodded.
"So I'm going to be running on zero hours of sleep till Thursday night?" She nodded again.
"Like an intern. Okay, I can do that." There was honking outside.
"Your father is so damn impatient. You should wear your red cocktail dress. You always look stunning in that dress," My mom said. I smiled.
"I think I will." There was more honking coming from outside.
"Alright, love you and tell Kurt and Brittany I said hi," She said kissing me again on the cheek and leaving my room.
"Love you too!" I shouted after her.
Mercedes was the first one to show up. Then Kurt, Rachel, and a guy with a bunch of gel in his hair.
"Hi, I'm Blaine. I work in the NICU at the hospital. Thanks for inviting me over," He said grabbing a glass of wine.
"I never invited you. Rachel did but you're welcome...I guess."
Brittany still wasn't here. I walked over to the kitchen to check on the rice and the chicken. I poured myself one more glass of wine.
"Santanaaa," Kurt hissed, "That guy! The one with the gel! That's the guy that I slept with before we-"
"That's the guy?!" I screamed. Kurt covered my mouth and shushed me.
"Can you be any louder? How do I look? Is my hair okay? I should've worn something more cute," Kurt rambled. I laughed.
"Kurt, your little pink button up is cute on you. Go talk to him," I said. Kurt squealed and walked back over to the living room. I checked the food once more before heading to the back patio. I pulled out a cigar.
"I was wondering when you were gonna come out here."
"Holy fucking shit!" I screeched. I dropped my lighter and clutched my chest.
Brittany laughed.
"Has anyone told you it's impolite to scare someone with PTSD?" I asked catching my breath.
"Sorry," Brittany said. She was wearing slim black dress pants and a light powder blue button up tucked into the pants.
"How long have you been here?"
"Not too long. I was gonna come through the front door but I wanted to smoke a bit before going inside."
"Smoke what?" Brittany gave me a look.
"It's medicinal. I get headaches." I rolled my eyes and chuckled.
"You look beautiful," Brittany said.
"Thanks you," I said shyly. Brittany smiled.
"Anyways, I got you a present," Brittany said taking out a small box from her pocket, "I know it's not easy getting treatment and whatnot but this is just saying that getting help when you really need it isn't a bad thing." She handed me a small velvet box. I opened it and saw it was a bracelet.
"Woah," was all I could get out. It was hold and it had the word "strength" written in cursive.
"Britt, I can't have this. This looks expensive," I said.
"I got it as a gift and I want to pass it on to you," She said, "Plus I got it tattooed on me." I looked at her.
"Where?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," She giggled. I smirked and looked back down to the bracelet. Brittany grabbed the box and took the bracelet out.
"Whenever you're feeling weak or just scared, this should give you some strength to get through whatever you're going through," Brittany whispered, putting the bracelet on my left wrist.
"This-this...wow. Thank you," was all I could get out. I gave Brittany a hug.
"We should probably go inside now." I released Brittany from my hug and looked down at the bracelet.
"It looks good on you," Brittany commented.
I looked up and saw how close me and Brittany were. I was lost for words, again. Brittany giggled and interlocked our pinkies.
"Come on, your guests are waiting," she said leading me inside.
