Ash paces a little in front of me, and I’m chuckling. “That was pretty hot,” I tell her, “just sayin’.”
“Can you believe that?” she asks. “I get that she thinks we can be a little casual because I took her stupid class, but can you believe she’d act that way?”
“Don’t let it ruin your day,” I tell her. “I get that sort of stuff pretty often when I go to hospitals.”
“It just makes me so mad!” Ash announces, still pacing.
The drunk guy next to me is trying to look in as different a direction as possible.
“Hey,” I tell her. “If you ever want to start getting into MMA yourself, I know a lot of good people that’ll help you get on the right track.”
“You’re funny,” Ash says without smiling.
“Ellis!” a nurse calls out from across the room. “Mason Ellis?”
“Right here,” Ash answers for me and we follow the nurse into the little room to take my vitals.
The nurse doesn’t ask anything, she just gives commands. “Tell me what brings you in,” she says. “Get on the scale.”
I’m her dancing bear for a few minutes and we get through the intake process. The nurse leads me back to a room and I lie down on the bed, patting the mattress next to me as I look up at Ash.
To my surprise, she actually climbs onto the bed next to me and lies down.
“You know something?” she asks.
“What’s that?” I return.
“Never mind,” she says.
I look at her. “What’s on your mind?” I ask.
“Oh, now’s not the right time,” she says.
I want to press her more, but the curtain opens in front of me and a middle-aged doctor in blue scrubs comes to the side of the bed.
“Mason, what’s seems to be the trouble today?” the doctor asks looking at his clipboard.
“I do MMA,” I tell him. “I took a shot to the head and we just want to make sure I’m all clear.”
The doctor writes something on his clipboard. He has yet to look at me once.
“We’ve been getting a lot of MMA injuries the last few months,” the doctor says. “Maybe it’s time to find another hobby.”
I give Ash’s shoulder a squeeze, trying to encourage her to just let that sort of thing slide, but it’s no use.
“Excuse me, doctor?” Ash asks.
“Yes?” the doctor answers, still looking over his clipboard.
“It’s difficult to do an exam if you won’t look at or touch the patient, don’t you think?” she asks.
The doctor finally looks up.
“Miss, I’m sorry, but for now I’m going to have to ask you to climb down from the bed—at least until we know what we’re looking at here,” the doctor says.
I tell Ash she’s fine, but she gets up anyway.
The doctor gives me a quick once over, shining his light into my eyes and asking me who’s president and he leaves the room without voicing what he’d found.