I really wanted to thank you guys so much for your support! Your reviews really pushed me to get this chapter done quite ahead of schedule, so thank you for that! I also wanted to let you know that this will be the only update this week unless I really get on a roll as I have a softball tournament from Thursday to Saturday so I'll be out of town. I really hope you guys continue to enjoy this story and leave your comments, they really help more than you can imagine! This chapter is written from Callie's point of view with flashbacks in italics, as well as Arizona's in bold.
Chapter Two
"Cal, what is wrong with you? Mark gives me a look of confusion as I continue to pull him down the hallway away from the Chief and Dr. Robbins.
"I could say the same thing to you." I give him a strong look of disapproval, "What was with the charm you were putting on there in front of Dr. Robbins? You have Lexie now, remember?" I can't help but give him a bit of the Bailey stare.
Somehow while my personal life was falling apart, Mark's was falling into place; about a month after Erica walked away, Mark finally got up the nerve to have an actual adult relationship with Lexie.
"I know, I know I'm with Lexie. I was just being polite, trying to make her feel welcome. I know from personal experience it's not easy being the new kid around here."
It's moments like these with Mark that makes me chuckle. "I'm fairly certain that was because you slept with Addison."
"Hey." Mark gives me the stern defensive look he uses when he knows I'm right. "I'm different now. I've grown."
I just can't help but smirk at him. "Yes, Mark. I know you've grown. You've just got to remember that, just tone down the friendliness okay?"
"Fine." He says only a moment before a look of realization crosses his face. "Weren't we supposed to be talking about you?" Mark glares at me slightly, as if he's waiting for an answer.
I roll my eyes at his realization, "Shut up, Mark."
"Good Morning Seattle! It's 8:00 and for you lucky folks who get to go to work later in the day it's time to get your buts up outta bed!" The voice of the morning DJ of my favorite radio station echoes through my bedroom stirring me from my sleep.
'Uh, you have got to be kidding me.' I can't help but groan as I roll over and smack the snooze button. As my hand comes in contact with the alarm clock I hear a sound that resembles that of crumbling paper causing confusion to arise in my mind, leading my eyes to venture to the other side of the bed below my arm.
"What the hell?" I can't help but verbalize my confusion as I find a piece of paper beneath my elbow. I lift my elbow to snatch up the now crumbled paper, bringing it closer to my face. Before I begin to read I can't help but notice how delicate and yet some how adolescent the writing across the page looks; it is as if a teenage girl had written it to the crush she's had for years.
'Callie,
I'm definitely not the type to normally do what I did last night but I had a great time nonetheless. Running late for work, didn't want to wake you! My # is in your phone, hoping to hear from you soon! =D'
'What the heck did I do last night?' I put the note down, back on the pillow next to mine.
"This time I'm mistaken for handing you a heart worth breaking." The recognizable voice of Chad Kroeger bursts through my alarm clock causing me to fall out of bed with a start, grabbing hold to the closest thing to break my fall as I do.
With a loud thud and an uncontrollable groan I hit the floor, unable to lessen my fall with whatever it was I had grabbed. I look to my left to find that I had grabbed the pillow in which the note had been placed on but it had landed near millimetres from my head rather than beneath it. I groan and roll over placing my head on the pillow. Taking a deep breath my senses are filled by the sweet scent of grapefruit and mint coming from the pillow. I'm unable to put a name or face to the scent but I know that it most definitely belonged to the woman who left the thought filled note behind, even without the two main things that makes up a persons identity to the outside world she has still managed to completely captivate me.
After finally meeting the nurses and senior residents who had high interest peds surgery Dr Webber had left me with my cases for the day. I had said that I would be okay with a senior resident taking over some of Kenley's cases but it was only now that I had been fully appreciative. I had a total of 14 patients that was my responsibility alone making morning rounds quite time-consuming; I had begun at 8:30 and didn't finish until quarter to 11.
Finishing rounds only a few minutes ago I now stand at the ped's nurse's station further inspecting charts for my afternoon back to back surgeries. I can't help but hear nurses gossiping about a certain subject that grabs my attention.
"Did you see the way Dr. Torres was looking at Dr. Robbins this morning in the lobby?" The red headed nurse whose name escapes me says; her voice is as if she's attempting to whisper but she's doing a terrible job of it.
"Can you blame her?" another nurse buts in. "Doesn't blonde curly hair and blue eyes remind you of someone else who made Torres look like that? Does the name Dr. Hahn ring a bell to any of you?" Her voice is now slightly sarcastic but I can hear slight curiosity behind it.
"Of course it does, Hannah." The red head says, her tone tells me that she's obviously rolling her eyes. "But I would have thought she'd be cold or cranky, it certainly looked anything but. Hahn left her in the parking lot, in the pouring rain, and never said goodbye or came back. I get that she deserved to be upset and angry but that was like three months ago, it's about time she got back into the game she's going to miss her rebound if she doesn't hurry up, Taylor."
"I'd have to agree with you on that point." The nurse I'm assuming is Taylor responds in an obvious tone. "I'm about time for her to get back on the horse, and give us something else to talk about." She laughs.
"I could've sworn that when the time came the horse was going to be Sloan, but I guess I was wrong, turns out it's going to be Robbins, well that's if she swings that way. What do you…"
I've heard enough now to be able to bring myself out of this situation. Sighing under my breath I shut the chart I was looking at swiftly and put it back where it belonged. I've heard my fair share of hospital gossip to know that it wasn't entirely true; but that didn't mean there wasn't truth to it.
Was that all I was to her, the rebound, her chance to get back on the horse? Was that why she didn't recognize me, because she refused to let herself go backwards? If so, then the playful edging on flirty jokes earlier this morning were her way of show boating herself, showing that she'd pulled herself up off the floor. They were her way of showing that's all I'll ever be to her; the rebound.
I can't help but be antsy sitting in the cafeteria, playing with my noodles in the "salad" I had made in a rush this morning as I had had enough of cafeteria food, waiting for Mark to hurry up and be finished with his consult he had been called in for after we finished surgery earlier this morning.
How was I supposed to explain this to him? I had him, and everyone else for that matter, convinced I was fine, that I was doing better. And I was, until yesterday afternoon that is. I was in the middle of doing a routine knee replacement, music blaring from the large CD player I had brought into the OR as always, when it happened.
The music was blaring at a probably more than acceptable level, but that was the way I liked it; it was just me, the music, and the task at hand in front of me, all of the rest of the world would float away with each note played by the bouncing bass or beat from the overpowering drums.
It was only after I had finished making the first cut into the distal end of the femur I realized what song was playing. It was the rock version of the song "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz I had found on the internet one day that I had fallen in love with, but it wasn't only me who had fallen in love with it.
That was the song that been playing in my car on the way home from the date with Erica that had led to the best night we had together. Erica had been so I could only explain it as extremely un-Erica like; she was practically bouncing up and down in the passenger seat, singing along and all. She looks the happiest I've ever seen her since I've known her, she was looking at me the entire time, smiling so widely that if it was me I was sure my mouth would have been hurting.
At the memory my mind began to fill with grief and guilt; memories of myself and Mark, whispers and lies, everything that I had regretted.
I had had to get a scrub nurse to change the song, thankfully for the rest of the surgery no other songs that reminded me of Erica played, otherwise I would have been unable to finish. The surgery goes off without a physical hitch and I'm able to leave for the night earlier than I normally would have.
As soon I got home I headed straight to Cristina's stash of alcohol that she saved for her and Meredith's dark and twisty days. Unfortunately I had only found about four ounces of whiskey that Cristina had probably swiped from Owen. I had quickly downed that and had realized that it wasn't going to be nearly enough for me to be able to get through the night. I had left the apartment and took a cab to the only place that I knew in Seattle besides Joe's.
And that was the last thing about last night I fully remembered.
"Robbins!" The vaguely familiar voice of Mark Sloan echoes through the hallway.
'You've got to be kidding me.' I think to myself as I release a small disgruntled sigh I was unable to hold in. I turn around and give him a small fake smile, "Dr. Sloan."
"How's Seattle Grace treating you so far?" He asks as he approaches me, a smirk widening across his face with every step closer he gets.
"It's been treating me very well, thanks. I've got a large case load that's for sure and the nurses and residents all seem to be great."
"Well that's good." His smirk turns into somewhat of a genuine smile now, "Do you have plans for lunch?"
"Actually, I was just," He doesn't give me the chance to finish my sentence before continuing on.
"You should have lunch with me and Torres. We always just have lunch in the cafeteria, some of the other attendings and residents join us most of the time so we can introduce you to the rest of the crew."
At his words my stomach uncontrollably churns, the image of him and her together makes me feel like I'm about to be sick. 'Stop it, Arizona. It'll never happen again, as much as you want it too.'
"That's okay, I was just planning on," Once again he buts in leaving me unable to finish.
"I insist. I was the new kid once and I know what it's like. Just once, you don't have to sit with us again if you don't want too, okay?" He gives me another smile, one this time that is more flirty than genuine.
"Okay. I'll come this once." I say plastering a small fake smile across my face once again. What else was I supposed to do?
"Torres!" Mark's surprisingly cheery voice booms through the cafeteria catching my attention causing me to look up from my salad. The relieved look that had crossed my face as I had heard his voice dissipates as I look up to find that he's not alone. "Look who I found?" A large smile is across his face as he points to Dr. Robbins who is walking next to him.
I quickly throw a forced smile across my face as to not seem rude. "Hey. It's nice to see you again, Dr. Robbins." I say as Mark leads her to our usual table.
"I could say the same, Dr. Torres." She gives me a small shy smile as she takes the seat Mark has pulled out for her.
"Please, it's Callie." I chuckle. "Dr. Torres makes me feel a lot older than I am, and I'm fine with my age."
"Just as long as you call me, Arizona." She giggles; as she does slight butterflies flutter in my stomach, catching me highly off guard.
"Okay, I think we have a deal." I smile again, but this time it is genuine and somehow as if she's known me for a long time I think she can tell the difference.
"What do we have here Cal?" Mark says curiously as he reaches out for the note from this morning I had forgotten I had put on the table.
Almost impossibly fast I reach out and grab it off the table before he has the chance to read it. "Ah, nothing. I'll show it to you later." I say as I mash it into my pocket, careful not to rip it.
Arizona nearly chokes on the cream soda she had been sipping, which I assume is at the sight of the note I put in my pocket leaving me highly curious. "You alright, Arizona?"
She puts her cream soda down on the table before covering her mouth, coughing once again. It takes her a moment to respond but she finally does, "Yeah I'm fine, just went down the wrong way, that's all." She says with final cough.
Out of the corner of my eye I can see Mark raising his eyebrow inquisitively at me. "Sure you sure, Cal? It seemed pretty important to me." He's pressing me now, I can tell he wants me to spill, and he wants me to spill now not later.
"I think I'll just go take a seat with Taylor and Hannah, I'll let you two alone so you can talk without my intruding ears." She says with a slightly saddened small chuckle as she begins to slide her chair back.
"No, stay. It's alright," My mouth opens and words fall out before I even realize what I'm saying.
She stops, looking me straight in the face. "Are you sure?"
It is only now that I fully take her in. Her eyes, so blue sparkling as if you're looking straight out into the ocean; her underlying dimples giving her a childlike innocence that was so endearing they were entirely capturing. There was something about her that made me feel guilty; she somehow made me feel even more guilty than I already felt about what I was about to share.
I take the piece of paper out of my pocket, unfolding it as I do, and lay it face up on the table. My tone of voice has changed slightly, showing the seriousness of the words I was about to say. "I'm sure."
"Arizona, don't judge me because of what I'm about to say." She looks me straight in the eye, her words sincere. "I didn't mean for it to happen but it did and I can't change it, but I'm okay with that."
I don't say anything, I just simply nod. She may think that she's caught me off guard and that's why I'm speechless, and that is true but she doesn't the half of it. She doesn't remember that I'm the reason why she's in the predicament, and to be honest I hope that what she's about to say next catches me even more off guard.
"I woke up with morning and found this," She picks the note from up off of the table and puts it down between Mark and me so that we are able to read it. I can't help but stare at my own adolescent looking scrawl across the now slightly wrinkled page.
"Who wrote it, Cal?" Mark's brow furrows slightly as he speaks. "She actually seems sensible, even if she writes like a teenage girl." He chuckles slightly now though his brow is still creased.
I can see Callie begin to chew on her bottom lip; she was obviously debating with herself on how to answer his easy yet complicated question. "That's the problem." My eyes never leave her face as she speaks; I can see the guilt in her deep brown eyes that are focused on the note causing all this trouble.
"Cal?" Mark presses on as he realizes that she's staying silent.
"I don't know." Callie doesn't look from the table as she answers him.
"What do you mean you don't know? She wrote you a note, her number's in your phone, it's not that difficult to know who someone is, unless," Mark begins to ramble off but cuts himself short as it dawns on him what she meant.
"I don't remember her." Callie picks up the note from up off the table and begins to run her fingers over every written word, every word I had written. "I wish I did. I remember bits and pieces about that night, but I can't." She's stopped speaking once again, almost as if to regain composure.
"Cal, I" Mark starts to speak but she holds up her hand, pointing to him to stop him from continuing.
"Don't Mark. No matter how hard I try I can't fully remember her. I can remember the butterflies that were doing somersaults in my stomach when I first saw her. I can remember things she said, but it's not her voice speaking, it's mine. I can remember her corny jokes but I can't remember her laugh. And I want to. I want to be able to remember because what I remember isn't enough. I want more than that. She deserves more than that."
I still can't stop looking at her. This was the Callie Torres I had met last night, not the one who I had invented in my head after seeing her this morning. She honestly can't remember who I am; and it's killing her.