I kick Georgina out of the room when I get back from my checkup and she goes, of course.  Sweet little Georgina, who's got to invent her own reality to stay alive.  She's never been able to face up to me for more than half a second.

Not a bad lay, though.  She's a little different in the dark.

But I don't give a shit about her today.  I'm a little pissed at how fucking fascinated I am by this Kaysen girl.  Probably just the thrill of the chase, right?  She's one of four girls on this ward I haven't fucked, and the only one who isn't catatonic, covered with third-degree burns, or stinking of fucking rotting chicken.  Face it, fresh meat's fresh meat.  And she's fresher than most.

So that's the project for tonight.  Get those doe eyes to go wide and desperate.  Maybe a little alive, although I've kind of given up on finding anyone else who's actually alive in this shithole of a world.  There's a spark in her somewhere, I think.  Makes her more interesting than most.

She doesn't know what the hell to do, though.  Look at her fidgeting, not sure whether to stand or sit.  Oh, there she goes, twitching one of those French cigarettes out of the fancy little case over there.  Smart move – it'll give her something to do with her hands, and she looks damn sexy when she smokes.  But it's best to set the tone for this one right off, so I flick open my lighter before she knows it's out and light it myself.  I keep the flame from the chintzy little Bic between us for a long moment before I snap it shut again.

"Mind if I –" Not waiting to finish the sentence, since I really don't want an answer, I take the cigarette from her and take a long drag.  Keep it just long enough, inhaling and puffing, that she's wondering if I'm going to smoke it down all the way – then I flick it back at her.  A few ashes fall on the carpet.

Her eyes haven't left mine though.

Her voice, when she speaks, is raspy.  "What – what are you doing here?"

This part is always the most fun.  "What does it look like I'm doing here, sweetpea?"  I slide one of her cigarettes out and light it, quick this time. 

"Smoking my cigarettes."

"Well… yes."  Draw the s out just a bit, till it sounds like the smoke curling lazily through the air.

"Is that all?  You wanted some cigarettes?"

Enough of this shit.  I sprawl out on the bed, one fast big move that makes her jump.  "Nah.  Figured I'd get to know the neighbors, welcome you to the community, there's a great game of bridge every Tuesday night, you play?"

That gets a laugh, but just the right kind of one, a little uncertain half-giggle that tells me one basic thing: she's intimidated. 

"Don't be scared, hon.  I'm not here to hurt you."

"Then what are you here for?" She's straining, but she's also got more spirit than anyone on this ward except Daisy and Janet.  With the added bonus of being a lot hotter than either of them.

"Truth is –"  I take it back.  This is the best part.  "Truth is, Susanna, I like you."  Notice how she doesn't relax at all at that statement.  Perfect.  "And I'm interested in –" –lick the lips, keep it slow, there –"getting to know you better."

"What…"

A line from Mr. Rogers pops into my head, and I start singing, purely to keep her off balance.  "Getting to know you, getting to know all about you…"

"What?"

"Getting to liiike you, getting to hope you like me…"

"Lisa –"

I can hear the nurse coming down the hall on checks.  I time it – six, five, four steps from the door – and lean in. 

"Li—!!"

It's a perfect kiss.  She's not too surprised to kiss back.  And there's just enough time to leave her wanting more, as I pull back and the nurse comes in.

"Checks.  Oh, Susanna, you're making friends."

She stares mutely.  There's a hint of that desperation I wanted to see in her eyes.

I want more.

I wait till the nurse leaves, then put my finger over her lips to stifle everything that's about to come babbling out.  "Tongue your meds tonight.  McWeeney's off duty at eleven thirty and it's just the security guard 'til twelve-ten.  I gave him a blow job two nights ago.  Tell him you're meeting me, he'll let you go."

"What—"

"Room 1210.  See you then, babe."

And… exit.

I can still feel her eyes burning questions into my back.