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The next few weeks flew by in a blur of routine. Each morning, I'd wake up early, the sunlight just beginning to creep through the curtains, and head to work with Connor. The hospital had become a second home.
I found solace in the small tasks – wiping down counters until they gleamed, folding endless piles of laundry with the scent of fresh linen clinging to my fingers, and running drinks to the nurses' station, exchanging smiles with the staff who'd become like family. Each day was a small step toward normalcy. But the day I dreaded most loomed closer with each passing moment: my first day at school. It arrived faster than I wanted, bringing with it a knot of anxiety that settled in my stomach.
I stood in front of my mirror, studying my reflection, the familiar Levi jeans and blue button-up shirt felt foreign against my skin. My eyes drifted to the backpack slumped in the corner, bulging with schoolbooks that seemed to mock my unease. With a deep breath, I slung it over my shoulder, the weight a reminder of the world waiting outside.
In the kitchen, the aroma of breakfast greeted me. Connor had set aside a plate, eggs, toast, and orange slices neatly arranged. I ate quickly, the food a welcome distraction from the nerves bubbling beneath the surface.
"Are you ready?" Connor asked, rushing into the kitchen, his hair still damp from the shower.
"Not really," I muttered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "Can't I just skip school and go to work with you?"
Connor chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry, kiddo. But you need to get your education." He glanced at his watch. "We need to hurry. We're running late."
I nodded, setting my plate in the sink. As we headed out the door, I cast one last look at the cozy kitchen.
The morning air bit through my jacket as we climbed into Connor's car, the leather seats cold against my legs. He turned the key, and the engine roared to life.
At the first red light, Connor cleared his throat. "You know," he said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, "I remember my first day back after missing two weeks of school. Broke my arm playing football." He chuckled softly. "I was terrified."
I glanced over, surprised. Connor rarely talked about his childhood. "What happened?"
"Well," he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "I walked in there feeling like everyone would stare. But you know what? Most kids were too wrapped up in their own drama to even notice." His eyes crinkled at the corners. "The ones who did just wanted to sign my cast."
The car fell silent again as we turned down a street, the school buildings looming ahead. My stomach churned at the sight of students filing through the front doors.
Connor pulled into the drop-off lane and put the car in park. "Lexa," he said, turning to face me fully. "You're one of the strongest people I know." His hand reached out, squeezing mine. "And if anyone gives you trouble..."
"Call you immediately," I finished, managing a weak smile.
"That's my girl." He hesitated, then added, "I can walk you in if you want."
I shook my head, squaring my shoulders. "No, I... I need to do this myself."
Pride flickered across his face. "Okay then." His voice softened. "Remember what we always say?"
"Head high, shoulders back, face whatever comes," I whispered, gathering my courage.
As I stepped out of the car, Connor called after me. "Hey, kiddo?" I turned back. "I love you."
"Love you too, Dad."
I walked past clusters of kids, each group buzzing with morning energy. A few gave me curious looks. I kept my gaze forward, heading straight for the office. I smiled at the secretary. "Hi. Uh... I'm Lexa Rhodes, and it's my first day."
"Ah yes," she replied, her voice warm and welcoming. She adjusted her glasses then handed me a neatly folded piece of paper. "Welcome to our great school," she said with a smile. "This is your class schedule and a map of the school. For your first week here, you'll be paired with a buddy – Janet. She should be here any moment... Ah, here she is!"
At that, a whirlwind of energy burst into the office. Janet arrived breathlessly, her cheeks flushed from the morning rush. "Sorry! Traffic was a nightmare," she panted, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Then she turned to me, her eyes bright with excitement. "Hi, I'm Janet."
"I'm Lexa," I replied, trying to muster confidence but feeling the shyness creep in.
The secretary continued, "Janet has all of your classes, so she'll show you around. Today, though, I suggest you two skip classes and get a tour of the grounds."
Janet grinned at me, the kind of grin that was impossible not to return. "Don't worry, Lexa. I'll show you all the secret spots and shortcuts. By the end of the day, you'll know this place like the back of your hand."
Her enthusiasm was infectious, and for the first time that morning, I felt a flicker of excitement. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
"First stop," Janet announced, leading me down a sunlit corridor, "the cafeteria. Avoid the mystery meat on Thursdays, but the pizza's actually decent." She pushed open a set of double doors, revealing a sprawling room filled with round tables. "And see that corner?" She pointed to a cozy nook by a wall of windows. "That's where the cool kids sit."
"Let me guess – that's your spot?" I teased.
Janet burst out laughing. "God, no. I sit with the theater nerds by the stage door." She gestured to a cluster of tables near a side exit. "We're loud, weird, and probably too obsessed with Broadway, but we have the best snacks."
As we continued our tour, Janet's stories flowed freely. She told me about the chemistry teacher who accidentally set his tie on fire last semester, the haunted bathroom on the third floor (which was really just had flickering lights), and the janitor who secretly wrote poetry during his lunch break.
"And this," she said, pushing open a heavy door, "is my favorite spot in the whole school."
We stepped onto a small rooftop garden, complete with wooden benches and potted plants. The morning sun painted everything in soft gold, and the buzz of the school below felt distant, almost peaceful.
"The environmental club maintains it," Janet explained, settling onto a bench. "Not many students know about it. It's kind of our secret hideaway for when things get overwhelming."
I sat beside her, taking in the view of the city sprawled out before us. From up here, I could even see the hospital where Connor worked, its windows glinting in the sunlight.
"So," Janet said softly, "want to talk about it?"
I turned to her, confused. "About what?"
"Whatever made you transfer schools in the middle of the semester." Her voice was gentle, free of judgment. "People usually only do that if something big happened."
I stared down at my hands, my throat suddenly tight. "It's... complicated."
"Hey," she nudged my shoulder with hers, "complicated is my middle name. Well, actually it's Marie, but you get the point."
The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "I was found a few months ago, washed up by the river." My fingers twisted in my lap as I spoke. "I was in a coma at Chicago Med. When I woke up..." I swallowed hard. "Everything before that was just... gone. Like someone had taken an eraser to my memories."
Janet stared at me, her green eyes wide with surprise. "I was not expecting that." She didn't pull away or gasp dramatically like I'd feared. Instead, she shifted closer, her shoulder pressing against mine in quiet support.
"One of the doctors there, Dr. Rhodes – Connor – he..." My voice caught. "He adopted me. Gave me a home, a life." I glanced at her, waiting for the pity I'd grown used to seeing in people's eyes.
But Janet's face showed something else entirely – a mix of wonder and fierce protectiveness. "That's..." she started, then stopped, choosing her words carefully. "That's not just some story, Lexa. That's like, movie-level incredible." She bumped my shoulder gently. "You survived. You're here. And you found someone who chose you."
The simple truth of her words made my eyes burn. I blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears.
"Although," she added, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips, "this does mean I'll have to be extra careful showing you around. Can't have you getting lost in any more rivers."
A startled laugh escaped me, the tension breaking like a fever. Below us, the warning bell rang, its distant chime carrying across the rooftop garden.
"Come on," Janet said, standing and offering me her hand. "Lets continue the tour. And Lexa?" She waited until I met her eyes. "Your secret's safe with me. That's what friends are for, right?"
Janet led me through the maze of hallways, pointing out classrooms and sharing stories about each teacher we passed. "Mr. Peterson teaches Biology," she whispered as we peeked through a classroom window. "He has this weird obsession with pandas. Mention them in your papers, instant A."
We rounded a corner, and Janet suddenly grabbed my arm, pulling me back. "Wait," she hissed, pressing us against the wall. "Principal Stevens at twelve o'clock."
A tall woman in a crisp blazer strode past our hiding spot, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. She hadn't noticed us.
"Shouldn't we be in class?" I whispered, my heart racing.
Janet grinned. "Relax. I have a note from the office – we're officially on tour duty." She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket.
We continued our exploration, Janet showing me shortcuts between buildings and the best vending machines. "This one," she said, patting an ancient-looking machine, "gives you two snacks for the price of one if you hit it just right."
As we walked, I found myself relaxing, even laughing at Janet's stories. She had a way of making everything seem lighter, easier.
"Oh!" Janet exclaimed, stopping suddenly. "I almost forgot the best part." She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward a set of double doors. "The drama room – my second home."
The room we entered was organized chaos. Costumes spilled out of boxes, props littered every surface, and a massive stage dominated the far wall. The air smelled of wood and paint and possibility.
"We're doing 'The Crucible' this semester," Janet said, her eyes lighting up. "You should totally join. We need more people for the ensemble."
"Oh, I don't know..." I started, but Janet was already dragging me toward the stage.
"Just think about it," she said, hopping onto the edge of the stage. "It might be good, you know? To be someone else for a while. To try on different stories."
I looked around the room, at the scattered scripts and half-painted sets, and felt something stir inside me. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was exactly what I needed.
We spent the next hour trying on outfits, each more ridiculous than the last. I ended up wearing a tall, bright yellow hat with a giant feather sticking out of it, paired with a black and white striped shirt and oversized clown shoes. Janet doubled over with laughter, clutching her sides as if she might burst.
Just then, the door swung open, and Principal Stevens walked in, her eyes widening at the scene. "What is going on in here?"
Janet straightened up quickly, attempting to stifle her giggles. "This is Lexa," she explained, gesturing towards me. "She just started here, and I was assigned to show her around. I have a note." She handed over the crumpled piece of paper, trying to look serious.
Principal Stevens took the note, glancing over it briefly before crumpling it in her fist. "Both of you, follow me," she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I'm calling both of your parents."
"For what?" Janet protested, her feet refusing to budge from the spot.
"For ditching class and destruction of property," Principal Stevens replied curtly, turning on her heel to leave the room.
I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat as Janet and I fell into step behind her. "My father is going to kill me," I whispered to Janet, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
Janet leaned in, her voice low and comforting. "Don't worry. I'll explain everything. It's not the end of the world, okay? We've just got to ride this out."
As we walked through the corridors, the colorful ensemble I wore felt heavier with each step, the clown shoes flopping awkwardly with every movement. The laughter and camaraderie from moments before had evaporated, replaced by a heavy silence filled with dread and uncertainty.
"Sit!" Principal Stevens ordered as we entered her office, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.
I slumped into the chair, crossing my arms defiantly over my chest, trying to mask the nervous energy bubbling inside me. Janet settled in the chair beside me, her posture more relaxed.
"We did nothing wrong," Janet asserted.
Principal Stevens ignored her, reaching for the phone and punching in numbers. The phone rang a few times before she spoke, "Is this Mr. Rhodes? Yes, this is Principal Stevens from the high school. I'm calling to inform you that your daughter Lexa has been suspended for the day... Yes... She was found skipping class and reportedly causing damage to drama club property."
My heart pounded in my chest, and before I could think, I sprang to my feet. "That's not true!" I exclaimed, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear. Janet grabbed my arm, trying to calm me, but I shook her off, my emotions spiraling. "You're a lying fucking bitch."
Principal Stevens' face flushed with indignation, her grip on the phone tightening. "I'm sorry, Mr. Rhodes, but we cannot tolerate such behavior in our school. Please come to pick her up immediately. She's no longer allowed to attend here."
My fists clinched at my sides, anger boiled inside of me.
Principal Stevens hung up the phone with a sharp click. "Wait for your father outside," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "And remove those drama club items immediately. We wouldn't want to add theft to your list of infractions."
Something inside me snapped. I yanked off the ridiculous costume pieces, flinging them onto her pristine desk with enough force to scatter her carefully arranged papers. My regular clothes underneath suddenly felt like armor. "Happy now?" I spat.
The principal's face reddened, but I was already storming out, shouldering past the door so hard it slammed against the wall. The sunny morning had turned grey and cold, matching my mood perfectly. I dropped onto the curb, wrapping my arms around my knees, trying to hold myself together.
Janet appeared beside me like a shadow, settling down close enough that our shoulders touched. "Hey," she said softly, "this isn't over. I'll tell your dad everything. Principal Stevens had no right to do this – we had permission to tour the school, and we didn't damage anything."
I stared at the pavement, watching a colony of ants march past my feet. "It doesn't matter," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Connor trusted me to do one thing – just one thing. Start school, keep my head down, stay out of trouble. And I couldn't even do that right."
"Stop," Janet's voice was fierce. "You did nothing wrong. Nothing. And if your dad is half as amazing as you say he is, he'll understand." She squeezed my arm gently. "Besides, you've got me now. And I don't abandon my friends."
We waited there for what felt like an eternity before Connor's car finally pulled up. "Care to explain what you were thinking?" he demanded, his voice tight with anger.
Janet immediately stood up, her posture defiant. "Lexa didn't do anything wrong. The secretary gave us permission to skip classes today so I could give Lexa a tour. We had a note, and I even gave it to Principal Stevens, but she just crumpled it up. We didn't destroy anything. I was just showing Lexa the drama room, the props she can use for her costume. We were trying them on; nothing was destroyed."
"Thought as much," came a voice from behind us. A man and a woman approached, offering reassuring smiles. "That principal has always had it out for Janet," the man said, his tone light despite the situation. "Ever since Janet accidentally set the school oven on fire trying to make microwave popcorn." He extended his hand to Connor. "I'm Kevin, by the way. Janet's father."
Connor glanced around at us, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Looks like we're going to have to find Lexa a new school."
"Good luck with that," Kevin replied, shaking his head. "We've been trying to find a new school for over a year. Everything is full, and we're close to considering homeschooling."
Connor nodded, "I'll figure something out. But first," he turned to me, his gaze softening, "I want to hear everything from you, Lexa. Let's get some ice cream and talk this through, okay?"
His words were a balm to my frayed nerves. Janet gave me a thumbs-up, her smile wide and supportive. Despite everything, the day didn't seem so bad anymore.
Connor's car was a welcome sight, the engine purring to life as I settled into the passenger seat. With every mile we put between ourselves and the school, the tension from the day's incident seemed to melt away.
"Any preference for where we get ice cream?" Connor asked, throwing me a sideways glance.
"Anywhere with sprinkles," I replied, unable to suppress a grin.
We soon pulled up to a quaint ice cream parlor tucked between a cozy bookstore and a charming flower shop. The place exuded a vintage allure, with its striped awning and pastel-colored decor. Inside, the sweet aroma of freshly made waffle cones mingled with the cheerful chatter of other patrons.
We approached the counter, eyes scanning the vibrant display of flavors. "I'll have a scoop of mint chocolate chip," I decided, pointing at the rich green ice cream that caught my eye.
Connor nodded, "Make that two, with extra sprinkles."
We settled into a cozy booth by the window. I took a bite of my ice cream, the cool, minty sweetness spread across my tongue. We ate in silence, before talking about future vacations, camping trips, and amusement parks. After we finished our ice cream, Connor suggested we take a walk around the nearby park. The park was bustling with activity—kids playing on the swings, joggers making their rounds, and couples strolling hand in hand.
"So, what happened today?" Connor prompted as we walked.
I sighed. "It was all a misunderstanding. Janet just wanted to show me around, and things got blown out of proportion. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."
Connor listened intently, nodding. "I believe you. We'll sort this out, okay? Besides," he added with a chuckle, "it's not every day you get to skip school for ice cream." He placed an arm over my shoulders.
I laughed, feeling a little lighter. "True. And thanks for believing in me."
Connor smiled warmly but then grew serious. "You're welcome, sweetheart. However, we do need to talk about your cussing at the principal. I understand you were upset, but that language is not okay," he said sternly, landing a soft swat to my backside.
I nodded, "sorry."
"You know," Connor started. "Despite everything that happened today, I think you handled it pretty well. Standing up for yourself is important, but sometimes it's about finding the right way to do it."
"Yeah, I get that. It's just hard sometimes, you know? When things feel unfair."
"I know. But you've got a good head on your shoulders, Lexa. Just remember, I'm here for you, okay?"
I smiled, grateful for his support. "I really appreciate it."
"We just need to figure out what to do now. You can't go back to that school. And if no other school is open for enrolment, then I guess we have no choice but to look into home-schooling. Which means," he smiled, "you get to spend a lot more time at the hospital with me." Connor stopped walking and turned to face me, his expression serious but kind. "We just need to figure out what to do for schooling. Though, it sounds like homeschooling is the way to go. That means you get to spend more time at the hospital with me." A small smile played at the corners of his mouth, it quickly vanished when his phone buzzed. "We need to head back to the E.D.," he said, already turning toward the car. "Will just texted - something's happening at the hospital."
The drive back was tense, with Connor checking his phone at every red light. I'd never seen him this anxious before, and it made my stomach twist into knots. As we approached the hospital, the reason became clear - the parking lot had transformed into a scene from a disaster movie. Red and blue lights from ambulances and police cars strobed against the building's walls, casting eerie shadows across the pavement. People in scrubs rushed back and forth between emergency vehicles, their faces grim.
Connor's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "I want you to go to the lounge and stay there," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Do NOT come out until someone comes to get you. Do you understand me?"
My heart hammered against my ribs as I nodded. Whatever was happening, it was bad - really bad. I'd spent enough time around the hospital to know when something was seriously wrong, and right now, everything about Connor's demeanor screamed danger.
Connor pulled into his reserved spot, and before the car had fully stopped, he was already reaching for his ID badge. "Go straight to the lounge," he repeated, his voice tight with urgency. "I mean it, Lexa. Do not go wondering around."
I hurried through the staff entrance. Behind me, I could hear Connor's rapid footfalls heading in the opposite direction, toward whatever crisis awaited in the E.D. The doctors' lounge was empty when I entered, the TV mounted on the wall silently playing the local news. I sank into one of the worn leather chairs, trying to calm my racing heart. Through the window, I could still see the chaos in the parking lot - more ambulances arriving, their sirens cutting through the evening air.
My phone buzzed. A text from Janet: "Are you seeing this? Turn on channel 7!"
I grabbed the remote and unmuted the TV. The news anchor's face was grave as she spoke: "...confirming at least fifteen injured in what authorities are calling a mass casualty incident at the downtown shopping center. Multiple victims are being transported to area hospitals..."
The lounge door burst open, making me jump. It was Will his scrubs already splattered with blood. "Lexa, we need your help," he said breathlessly. "The E.D.'s overwhelmed, and we need someone to run supplies from the stockroom. I know Connor said to stay put, but-"
I was already on my feet. "What do you need?"
Will rattled off a list of supplies - gauze, saline bags, trauma kits - as we speed-walked down the corrido and into the stockroom.
"Bring everything to Trauma 3," Will called over his shoulder as he rushed back to the E.D. "And Lexa? Be prepared - it's bad out there."
My hands shook as I punched in the stockroom code. Inside, I grabbed a cart and started loading it methodically. The hospital protocols Connor had drilled into my head kicked in, helping me focus despite the chaos. Four trauma kits. Six bags of saline. Multiple packages of sterile gauze.
As I wheeled the loaded cart toward Trauma 3, the sounds of the E.D. grew louder - urgent voices calling out vitals, the beeping of monitors, muffled cries of pain. Through the windows, I caught glimpses bleeding bodies.
I found Connor in Trauma 3, his sleeves rolled up, working on a young woman about my age. His eyes snapped up as I entered, widening with anger. "Lexa, I told you-"
"Will sent me," I interrupted, already unloading supplies. "You need help, and I know where everything is."
For a moment, Connor looked like he might argue, but another doctor called out for more gauze. I handed it over without hesitation. Connor's expression softened slightly, though worry still creased his forehead. "Stay behind the yellow line," he ordered. "And if anything happens-"
"I know," I said. "I'll get out immediately."
He nodded tersely before turning back to his patient. I stood at my post, ready to hand over whatever they needed, trying not to focus on the blood or the girl's pale face. Instead, I watched Connor work, his movements sure and steady despite the pressure. This was why he was one of the best trauma surgeons in the hospital. This was why people trusted him with their lives.
Hours passed in a blur of motion and urgency. I lost count of how many times I'd run back to the stockroom, how many supplies I'd handed over, how many faces I'd seen wheeled past on gurneys. The E.D. had settled into a rhythm now - still intense, but more controlled than the initial chaos.
The girl Connor had been working on was stabilized and moved to the ICU. Two more critical patients had come through Trauma 3 since then. I'd learned to anticipate what they needed before they asked - more gauze, another saline bag, fresh gloves. Around midnight, things finally began to slow down. The last of the victims had been treated and either admitted or released. The emergency staff looked exhausted, their scrubs stained, their faces drawn. Connor was talking quietly with Will near the nurses' station, both of them looking over charts.
I slumped against the wall, the adrenaline that had kept me going finally wearing off. My legs felt like jelly, and my hands wouldn't stop trembling. The events of the day - the school incident, ice cream with Connor, and now this.
Connor noticed me first. He said something to Will, then made his way over, his footsteps heavy with fatigue. Without a word, he pulled me into a tight hug. I could feel him trembling too, just slightly. "You did good," he murmured into my hair. "Really good."
I nodded against his chest, breathing in the familiar mix of antiseptic and his cologne. "Is everyone going to be okay?"
Connor pulled back, his face serious but proud. "Thanks to quick action and a great team, yes. We didn't lose anyone tonight." He paused, studying my face. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm okay," I said, though my voice wavered slightly. "Just... processing everything."
He squeezed my shoulder gently. "Let's get you home. We both need sleep, and tomorrow..." he trailed off, glancing around the now-quiet E.D. "Tomorrow we'll deal with everything else."