So, I have made a facebook page for my fanfiction called, what else, Bitter Harper Fanfiction. Come on over and converse with us. I will start doing teasers tomorrow and I have character pics and crap like that.
This chapter may contain triggers. September 11, 2001 was a horrible day for the world, especially the Americans. I, per usual, do not go into much detail so it should be okay. However, you may want to skip it if it will bother you. It's about halfway done under the first break.
Book Two, Part Four - A Helping Hand
September 7, 2001
"My name is Dr. Sloane. First thing for you to know…I am not your Mommy. I do not care if you have eaten or if you overslept. If you are late, do not bother even coming in. It is my job to teach you, it is your job to learn. If that seems to be too much for you, then leave now. I do not have time for slackers. Are we understood?"
Dr. Sloane peered down at us from under her spectacles, a stern expression on her face. No one said a thing, hell I don't think anyone, including myself, dared to breathe.
I had been dreading this class since I started med school. Everyone who ever had this woman as a professor said she was a ball busting bitch.
I was very fond of my balls.
Then again everyone who had been in her class said she was the best professor they had ever had and her students, if they paid attention, always did well in future endeavors.
So here I was.
I guess a little ball busting never hurt anyone.
"I'm scared." Sam whined a little.
"Yeah, well I think my balls just inverted back up into my body." I whispered back.
"I think mine did, too." A voice chimed in quietly.
I tensed a little and then looked casually over my shoulder.
"You don't have balls." I said.
A pretty red headed woman grinned at me.
"Thanks for noticing." She shot back.
I frowned.
"I didn't notice." I said curtly and turned back around in my seat.
"Okay then." I heard her murmur behind me, her tone sounding hurt.
I felt a little bad about that. She didn't do anything wrong. It was automatic at this point.
I could feel Sam look at me incredulously but I ignored him and focused on Dr. Sloane.
After the hour and a half long lecture was over, I bolted for the door.
Over the last five years, I had gotten used to girls throwing themselves at me, flirting with me, actually grabbing my cock to get my attention and I was aware that most of them thought I was gay.
Fine by me.
"Dude, what the hell?"
"Not now, Sam."
I was stopped by him dragging me off to the side of the corridor.
"What is wrong with you?" He asked. "That girl was hot and she was nice and funny."
I shot him a look.
"Man, that thing will that girl was five years ago! And you broke up with her. So what the fuck are you doing? Because for as long as I have known you, you haven't gotten laid or sucked once. That is a long time to be celibate. And the kicker is, girls throw themselves at you and you don't look twice. Be honest with me, you are gay, right?" He asked.
"Yes, I am. And Sam, I am madly in love with you." I said with mock seriousness.
His eyes widened in panic until he saw the smile on my face.
"That shit is not funny! I mean if you were gay, fine, but in love with me, no."
I cackled. That was funny if I do say so myself.
Sam sighed. I knew it was hard on the guy to be friends with me. My mood swings were legendary. I could be fine for weeks on end, going to parties with him, joking, laughing and then something would trigger a memory and I would sink into a deep dark place for days on end. But he never complained and he gave me space when I needed it.
"I'm just saying, your dick is going to rot off from lack of activity."
"Better than from a nasty venereal disease, like you." I quipped.
"That was once." He defended hotly.
He got serious.
"Man, you are my best friend. I want to see you happy."
"I am happy."
That was true, I was happy as I could be.
He looked at me doubtfully, but I could see he was letting it go until next time.
I wasn't ready. I knew this. He knew this.
I just wasn't ready.
***ICUY***
Four days later…
"This a day that will go down in infamy…"
I sat down and stared at the screen at the newscaster who was droning on and on, repeating the same things, over and over. The message was still the same.
New York City would never be the same again.
My phone rang and I answered it automatically.
"Edward? Edward! Are you okay?" Mom sounded panicked.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I assured her.
She started weeping.
"I was so worried when I heard about the towers. They say it is a terrorist attack. Can you believe that?" She whispered.
"No, I can't. Have you heard from Jessica and Victoria?" I asked, cursing myself for not thinking of them sooner.
Some brother I was.
"Yes, they are both at the hospital. They are bogged down as I am sure you can imagine. All hands on deck, though I don't think they imagine they will find many survivors. This is just so awful, Edward." She started crying again.
"I know Mom. It's…I have to do something to help. I am going down there." I decided, throwing on a shirt and some socks.
"What? Edward, no! What is they are still attacking? You need to stay home! Where is Sam? Put him on the phone!" She demanded.
"He is outside talking to the neighbors and Mom, it is my duty to help people."
"Not yet, it isn't. It is your duty to stay put and not give me a heart attack." She ranted. No one did guilt trips like my mother. It must be the Catholic in her.
"Mom, what is the point of becoming a doctor if at the most crucial crisis this city will ever face, I sit on my ass and let everyone else help? How would that make Dad proud of me?" I asked.
I heard her sob.
"I know. I'm…sorry. I just, if anything happened to you, I don't know what I would do. But you are right, go, help. Call me throughout so I know you are okay, please?"
"I will and I promise I will be careful, but I have to do this." I told her.
"I know. I love you Edward." She said.
"I love you too Mom. I will call you later." I hung up, grabbed a jacket and rushed out, running into Sam.
"Where's the fire?" He asked.
"Appropriate choice of words…" I glared at him.
"Sorry. Where are you going?" He asked.
"To help." I said simply, preparing myself for the forty blocks to get there as I was sure cabs would be scarce.
I heard pounding footsteps behind me as Sam tried to catch up.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"You think you are the only soon to be doctor? I am going with you. You jump, I jump. Now let's go help some people."
It took over two hours to reach the site. Nothing would have ever prepared me for what I was about to see. Chaos and debris was everywhere; cops and paramedics and victims littered the street. Rubble from the fallen towers had practically gutted the surrounding area. Ash, burned personal and professional items, glass, iron, wood and yes, bodies, all gathered in a huge mound of sorts. It was the biggest disaster in a lifetime of disasters. The estimated body count was over six thousand people.
I turned to the first firefighter I saw. As I approached him, he looked me up and down briefly.
"I have no statement at this time." He said gruffly.
"I am not a journalist. I am a med student. I…we graduate next spring from Columbia and we want to help." I said.
He looked at me suspiciously.
"Forget it." He dismissed me turning to walk away.
'Wait! Look, no matter how you see it, you are shorthanded. I may not be able to do fancy surgeries yet, but we can help the paramedics and the nurses triage people with minor injuries." He wavered. "Please, we want to help."
"We do, too."
I looked and was surprised to see the red head with a blonde next to her that I vaguely remembered from a class I had that year.
He looked at our new additions.
"Fine. Go over the triage section and stay out of the way. We have people digging for bodies. This is not kiddie play time, this is serious shit." He warned us.
I nodded solemnly.
"Thanks." I said.
"No, thank you." He said to me before disappearing into the fray.
I led the way, gingerly stepping over the trash, not waiting for anyone else.
"Hi, I'm Edward. I am here to help."
Forty eight hours later, I was exhausted and hungry but proud. This city had risen above and helped each other. I had worked on victims diligently but no matter how hard I had worked, is was nothing compared to the men and women in blue, the firefighters, the paramedics, the doctors and nurses, who had risked their lives to save whoever they could.
Unfortunately, very few that were stuck in the building were. Thousands of men, women and children had lost their lives in a horrific way. I stood there watching them tirelessly dig through the rubble looking, praying, hoping that someone was still alive. It was heartbreaking.
Yet, I felt almost whole. I knew that I had found my calling in life. I was meant to be a doctor, I was meant to help people, save people. I could devote my life to it, submerge myself in it and maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't realize what was missing.
Who was missing.
"Hey."
I turned towards the softly hesitant voice and noticed the red head. She was black with soot, her hair was a mess, her manicured nails torn, scratches and bruises on her but there was a fierce pride in her blue eyes.
I nodded at her.
"Hey."
We stood in silence as we watched the last of the rescue attempts.
"Hard to believe we go back to our normal lives tomorrow." She said.
"Yeah."
"Back to ball busting professors." She remarked.
"Make sure yours stay intact." I said.
She giggled. It was a nice sound, but all wrong to me.
"Yours, too."
We fell into silence once more.
"Did I do something to you and I don't know it?" She asked suddenly.
"No. I am just working through something. Sorry if I offended you. It is not you, I promise."
"Oh, I thought it was because of my mom." She said.
"Your mom?"
"Yeah, Dr. Sloane…"
"The ball busting bitch is your mother?" I asked, then closed my eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry." I winced.
She laughed outright, the sound foreign among so much pain, but welcome in light of it.
"No ball busting bitch is right. I am only in the class because I have to take it and she is the only professor who teaches it. Believe me, she doesn't play favorites." She assured me.
"I would have hated to grow up with you." I said.
"It wasn't so bad. I'm Tanya Denali." She extended her grimy hand to me.
I looked at it like it was a foreign object.
"What is appropriate in situations like this is to say, 'Hi my name is so and so and it is a pleasure to meet you'."
She sighed and put her hand down.
"You know I thought we could be friends. Because I notice that people avoid you like the plaque. The only friend you have is Sam and you are rude and mean and I don't deserve you acting like I don't exist. I have done nothing to you."
I looked at her like she had two heads.
"Ugh, just forget it." She yelled and walked away, tripping a little as she did so.
I laughed out loud, I couldn't help it. I knew the situation we were in didn't call for it, it was tacky and graceless to do so, but this thin red head with a bitchy mom had just told me off with her head held high and then had almost fallen flat on her face when trying and failing to make a dignified exit.
Besides, she was right. She did nothing to deserve me being rude to her. This pampered, obviously privileged, med student had just worked her ass off trying to help these victims and here I was treating her like shit.
If I was going to move on, I needed more people around me to catch me if I fell flat on my face.
"Tanya!" I called out.
She turned around, her expression murderous, and flipped me off.
I grinned.
"The name is Edward. Edward Cullen."