"Serena Lucille Carter!" John exclaimed when he saw Serena sitting on the
bed. She looked just as wonderful since the last time he'd seen her.
Serena was wearing a pair of knee-length Stephane Kelian sky blue suede boots with four inch heels, a short sky blue suede skirt, plum purple sweater from Burberry, and a sky blue collared shirt and the sleeves casually pulled up. She also had her purple Louis Vuitton bowling bag at her side.
"Hello to you too, John!" Serena hopped up from the bed and kissed him French-style, on both cheeks. John kissed her back and motioned for her to get back on the bed.
"What are you doing here?" He asked her. Looking over her with a critical eye, he noticed that she didn't look any different then the last time she'd seen him. Serena still was tall, about 5'10", golden hair and skin, bright blue eyes, and was lithe and slim as a willow. Her nails were manicured a French manicure and she was wearing light, but perfect makeup.
"Mom dragged me here for some meeting she had. She didn't want me alone in the city the entire time." Serena ran a hand through her long halo of hair. On her ring finger of her left hand sat a plump, glittering white diamond ring set in silver. It was exquisite. John pretended to notice he didn't see it.
"And where are you staying?" John asked, rolling up one of the rolly stools and sat down.
"With you, I think." Serena said quietly.
"Oh, lucky me." John joked.
"HEY!" Serena said, hitting him playfully. Her sleeve went up, and on the inside of her right arm was bruised up to her elbow. John noticed and grabbed her arm.
"What's this?" He glanced at it. Her arm smelled of vanilla and sandalwood. Serena yanked her arm away. "It's nothing."
"Well then how did it get there?" He palpated it gently.
"I don't know." Serena said, blushing.
"Serena, why are you here?" John asked her.
"Okay, fine. I cut my leg on my razor, the damn thing, and it started gushing blood and stuff and wouldn't clot or whatever the word is and all these damn bruises are starting to make me not be able to wear my ankle boots with skirts unless I wear dark tights which can look dumb sometimes and stuff and I puked a Cosmo last night after I had a headache and that never happens..." Serena started trailing off.
"Well, it might be anemia, or something else equally common in someone your age. Are you experiencing any weakness, numbness, nausea, dizziness, pain?" John reached for her wrist. Her pulse was steady and even, 70.
"Uh...no, no, lots, lots, and some." Serena counted on her diamond encrusted hand. John reached forward to feel her glands. They were swollen, very swollen. Serena tried to shake his hands away. "Yikes your hands are freezing!" She said, jumping back.
"So you're nauseous and dizzy?" John asked, pulling his stethoscope from his neck and warming the disk on his hand. He placed it on Serena's back. Her lung expansion was good, and John didn't want to think something serious was wrong with his little sister. He moved the disk to her chest, where her heart pumped.
He finished his quick examination of Serena by taking her temperature. "99. Not too bad. Besides the Cosmo last night, did you throw up at all recently?"
"Not really. Just the occasional hangover." Serena looked sheepish. With her brother as a doctor, she didn't really feel like going into the details of her drinking.
"You took alcohol when you had a headache? That's almost as bad as Mom taking Xanax with alcohol." John laughed over the mental image of his Mother puking over the toilet with him there with her.
"Yeah, sorry." Serena said. She noticed John was gathering needles and vials. "I hate needles."
"I want to draw your blood to rule out anything. Just hold still and look the other way." John stuck the needle into the big vein in her arm and Serena flinched involuntarily. "Sorry."
"I'm hungry, are you hungry?" John asked her when he was done drawing her blood.
"Yeah, I could eat." Serena jumped off the bed and nearly fell over. John righted her. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah I'm fine." Serena said quickly. She grabbed her purse and coat. It was a Marc Jacobs black pea coat. She looked like some actress or model.
On the way out, John saw how many heads Serena turned. Everyone was saying, "Oh my god, who is that?" "Isn't she some model in South Africa?"
She's my sister. Yep, isn't she gorgeous? John asked himself as Serena paraded through the waiting crowds of patients. Even Frank's head swiveled to gaze at Serena.
Pratt came striding up to them. "Got a date, Carter?"
John came up to them. "Nope, this is my younger sister, Serena Carter. Serena, meet Greg Pratt, one of our best residents."
Pratt kicked his feet. "Aw, come on, Carter." He was practically drooling down his face. "So what do you do for a living, Serena?"
"I party. I'm only 16." She winked at him. Pratt blushed a bright scarlet. It was so funny to see him embarrassed.
Then a huge trauma came rushing in, and Pratt's gaze of vision was torn from Serena. Brother and Sister walked out into the cold, bleak January day.
"Where do you want to eat? We can try the dump across the street or we can go to Harry's, the better place about 1\2 mile away." John told her.
"Let's just try 'the dump across the street.'" Serena laughed. They walked into Doc's and got a table. Serena was examining a menu. "They have strawberry daquiris!" Serena exclaimed. "Can I have one of those?" She asked the waitress.
"So how have you been?" She asked John, crossing her legs.
"Good. You?"
"Good." Serena fiddled with the edge of her menu. "I wanted to tell you something."
"Don't tell me. Oscar de la Renta is changing his dressing gowns from navy to red!" John exclaimed happily.
"No. Mom didn't have a meeting today, either." Serena said.
John instantly got worried. "What is it?"
"I came to tell you and Dad that I'm...well...I'm getting married in December." Serena showed John the humongous ring on her finger.
"Married? To who?" John asked, stunned. His little sister, at sixteen, was getting married in eleven months. "You'll only be seventeen!"
"I know."
"Who is it?"
"Jason. Jason von Renderson. He's a junior at the guys' school. He's going to Columbia next year, and so am I. We're going to live in a brownstone and go to class together and major in Art." Serena spoke excitedly. "I can't wait."
John thought this was screwed. When the burgers and fries came, Serena dug in and didn't look up. John was so engrossed in the food and wedding plans that he didn't realize that his beeper was going off.
"Who is that?" Serena asked through a mouthful of fries.
"The Hospital. They have your bloodwork back."
Serena was wearing a pair of knee-length Stephane Kelian sky blue suede boots with four inch heels, a short sky blue suede skirt, plum purple sweater from Burberry, and a sky blue collared shirt and the sleeves casually pulled up. She also had her purple Louis Vuitton bowling bag at her side.
"Hello to you too, John!" Serena hopped up from the bed and kissed him French-style, on both cheeks. John kissed her back and motioned for her to get back on the bed.
"What are you doing here?" He asked her. Looking over her with a critical eye, he noticed that she didn't look any different then the last time she'd seen him. Serena still was tall, about 5'10", golden hair and skin, bright blue eyes, and was lithe and slim as a willow. Her nails were manicured a French manicure and she was wearing light, but perfect makeup.
"Mom dragged me here for some meeting she had. She didn't want me alone in the city the entire time." Serena ran a hand through her long halo of hair. On her ring finger of her left hand sat a plump, glittering white diamond ring set in silver. It was exquisite. John pretended to notice he didn't see it.
"And where are you staying?" John asked, rolling up one of the rolly stools and sat down.
"With you, I think." Serena said quietly.
"Oh, lucky me." John joked.
"HEY!" Serena said, hitting him playfully. Her sleeve went up, and on the inside of her right arm was bruised up to her elbow. John noticed and grabbed her arm.
"What's this?" He glanced at it. Her arm smelled of vanilla and sandalwood. Serena yanked her arm away. "It's nothing."
"Well then how did it get there?" He palpated it gently.
"I don't know." Serena said, blushing.
"Serena, why are you here?" John asked her.
"Okay, fine. I cut my leg on my razor, the damn thing, and it started gushing blood and stuff and wouldn't clot or whatever the word is and all these damn bruises are starting to make me not be able to wear my ankle boots with skirts unless I wear dark tights which can look dumb sometimes and stuff and I puked a Cosmo last night after I had a headache and that never happens..." Serena started trailing off.
"Well, it might be anemia, or something else equally common in someone your age. Are you experiencing any weakness, numbness, nausea, dizziness, pain?" John reached for her wrist. Her pulse was steady and even, 70.
"Uh...no, no, lots, lots, and some." Serena counted on her diamond encrusted hand. John reached forward to feel her glands. They were swollen, very swollen. Serena tried to shake his hands away. "Yikes your hands are freezing!" She said, jumping back.
"So you're nauseous and dizzy?" John asked, pulling his stethoscope from his neck and warming the disk on his hand. He placed it on Serena's back. Her lung expansion was good, and John didn't want to think something serious was wrong with his little sister. He moved the disk to her chest, where her heart pumped.
He finished his quick examination of Serena by taking her temperature. "99. Not too bad. Besides the Cosmo last night, did you throw up at all recently?"
"Not really. Just the occasional hangover." Serena looked sheepish. With her brother as a doctor, she didn't really feel like going into the details of her drinking.
"You took alcohol when you had a headache? That's almost as bad as Mom taking Xanax with alcohol." John laughed over the mental image of his Mother puking over the toilet with him there with her.
"Yeah, sorry." Serena said. She noticed John was gathering needles and vials. "I hate needles."
"I want to draw your blood to rule out anything. Just hold still and look the other way." John stuck the needle into the big vein in her arm and Serena flinched involuntarily. "Sorry."
"I'm hungry, are you hungry?" John asked her when he was done drawing her blood.
"Yeah, I could eat." Serena jumped off the bed and nearly fell over. John righted her. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah I'm fine." Serena said quickly. She grabbed her purse and coat. It was a Marc Jacobs black pea coat. She looked like some actress or model.
On the way out, John saw how many heads Serena turned. Everyone was saying, "Oh my god, who is that?" "Isn't she some model in South Africa?"
She's my sister. Yep, isn't she gorgeous? John asked himself as Serena paraded through the waiting crowds of patients. Even Frank's head swiveled to gaze at Serena.
Pratt came striding up to them. "Got a date, Carter?"
John came up to them. "Nope, this is my younger sister, Serena Carter. Serena, meet Greg Pratt, one of our best residents."
Pratt kicked his feet. "Aw, come on, Carter." He was practically drooling down his face. "So what do you do for a living, Serena?"
"I party. I'm only 16." She winked at him. Pratt blushed a bright scarlet. It was so funny to see him embarrassed.
Then a huge trauma came rushing in, and Pratt's gaze of vision was torn from Serena. Brother and Sister walked out into the cold, bleak January day.
"Where do you want to eat? We can try the dump across the street or we can go to Harry's, the better place about 1\2 mile away." John told her.
"Let's just try 'the dump across the street.'" Serena laughed. They walked into Doc's and got a table. Serena was examining a menu. "They have strawberry daquiris!" Serena exclaimed. "Can I have one of those?" She asked the waitress.
"So how have you been?" She asked John, crossing her legs.
"Good. You?"
"Good." Serena fiddled with the edge of her menu. "I wanted to tell you something."
"Don't tell me. Oscar de la Renta is changing his dressing gowns from navy to red!" John exclaimed happily.
"No. Mom didn't have a meeting today, either." Serena said.
John instantly got worried. "What is it?"
"I came to tell you and Dad that I'm...well...I'm getting married in December." Serena showed John the humongous ring on her finger.
"Married? To who?" John asked, stunned. His little sister, at sixteen, was getting married in eleven months. "You'll only be seventeen!"
"I know."
"Who is it?"
"Jason. Jason von Renderson. He's a junior at the guys' school. He's going to Columbia next year, and so am I. We're going to live in a brownstone and go to class together and major in Art." Serena spoke excitedly. "I can't wait."
John thought this was screwed. When the burgers and fries came, Serena dug in and didn't look up. John was so engrossed in the food and wedding plans that he didn't realize that his beeper was going off.
"Who is that?" Serena asked through a mouthful of fries.
"The Hospital. They have your bloodwork back."