Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns everything Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: Thanks to Jax713 for pre-reading and to mcc101180 for beta-ing.
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We arrive at the University's Medical Center in less than ten minutes as I expected. I park the car and get out to help my injured undergrad, but when I reach her door, she's already stumbling out. I catch her before she falls on her face— or worse, on her hand.
In all honesty, I'm a little annoyed that she thought I wouldn't help her get out. I mean, I know my actions might have not showed her this thus far, but I am a gentleman.
"Can you walk?" I ask with my hand still around her elbow, as I close the door of the car.
"I think so," she says softly. She still doesn't look completely recovered, so I keep my hand around her arm— steadying her— and help her walk into the emergency entrance.
When we walk inside, I'm relieved to see there's not a lot of people there. In theory, my undergrad will receive attention quickly— but you never know at teaching hospitals.
"Hello," I say to the front desk lady, whose attention is devoted to her computer's screen. She looks up at me with a bored expression and doesn't reply to my greeting, automatically earning my dislike. "She cut her hand, and it looks deep," I say to her, gesturing with my hand to the wobbly girl next to me.
"Name?" the unsympathetic lady asks, and I freeze.
Goddammit…
I'm pretty sure the front desk lady doesn't mean my name. I can't believe that after all this time, I still can't get her name right.
How could I have forgotten her name again? It starts with a B, doesn't it?
I want to say Beth, but that's probably not it. So I stall, and the front desk lady raises her eyebrows at me before she turns to look at my undergrad.
"Isabella Swan," says the shaky sweet voice next to me.
God, I'm such an idiot!
I want to punch myself in the gut.
I look at her— at Isabella— and even though she's shaking her head at me, the corner of her mouth is up in a little grin, so I think—I hope— I am forgiven.
Isabella, Isabella, Isabella… I am never going to forget that.
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A/N: Maybe he should write it down.
Another one coming later today. R.