Affinity

January 10th, 2024

    It had been a week since Lindsey and I had talked, and we had immediately fallen into this awkward and avoidant stent. While our conversation was insightful, I think it also scared us more than it helped. I think we were both so worried about overstepping or losing each other that our first instinct was to not talk to each other at all.

The week dragged on, filled with awkward silences and stolen glances. Lindsey and I seemed to orbit around each other, careful not to collide. Every interaction was stilted, and I found myself overthinking every word, every movement. It felt like we were trying to pretend that everything was normal when it was anything but.

I spent the entire day in the lab, which was obnoxious because I really didn't feel like doing any work, but I also was able to occupy my brain so that I didn't have to think about everything with Lindsey. The day was long- it felt like it just kept going and going and going. People came in and out of the lab all day. I was the only one that seemed to have an insanely packed day. 

It had to have been close to five by the time I saw Lindsey for basically the first time of the day. I saw her when she came in this morning, and once when I was going to the bathroom and she was coming from, but that was about it. She walked into the lab as I was starting my last round of testing for the day. She didn't say anything, just shot me a small smile and went about her end-of-the-day tasks. I looked back down at the bench I was working at and grabbed the tablet for my last test tube. I went to push it into the tube, and almost immediately the tube shattered, my hand slamming straight down onto the broken tube.

Within a second, my hand started gushing blood. My white lab coat was immediately covered in red. For a moment I just stared down at my hand, shards of the rest tube stuck in my palm, my mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened.

I gasped, more out of surprise than in pain. Lindsey, who had looked up at the initial crunch of the test tube, was now running in my direction. "Saoirse!" She yelled, staring at the bleeding gash in my hand. Her face was filled with worry. I looked up at her, frozen and uncertain with what to do. I hung my hand over the sink that was at the end of my station, the blood still dripping quickly out of my hand.

I held my hand closer to my face, carefully picking a few of the bigger shards of glass out of my hand. "Holy shit," she gasped, grabbing a wad of paper towels from the roll next to us.

"Wait-" I told her. "I don't want to press any of the glass further in," I told her, wincing as I pulled more of it out. I turned on the faucet, running my hand under the water, trying to wash off the blood and remaining glass. I turned to Lindsey, letting her press the paper towel against my hand.

"Are you okay?" She asked intensely, our eyes connecting for the first real time this week. I hesitated, getting caught up in the realization of the matter.

"Yeah, um." I took the towel off of the cut and it immediately started running again. "Shit," I mumbled, trying to grab more towels.

"Here, Saoirse," she said, grabbing the towels for me. She took off the first one and quickly pressed the new paper towel to my hand. "Love, I think you might need to see a doctor, it's a really big cut," she cautioned, keeping her hand pressed to mine. As much as I wanted to be worried about the cut, I ridiculously was thinking more about her hand in mine, despite the blood between it.

"You have any tape?" I asked, patting my pockets with my free hand. She looked at me more confused than ever.

"Saoirse, what?" She pressed, raising her eyebrow at me.

"So I can wrap it and go to the doctor," I told her, trying to look in the drawer next to me.

"Saoirse, absolutely fucking not! There is no way in hell I'm letting you drive you and your gushing hand to the hospital! Come on," she said quickly, grabbing the roll of paper towels. I looked up at her, protest in my eyes, not wanting to overstep, despite this weird turn our relationship had taken. But as I watched the blood seep through the newest round of paper towels, I realistically knew I didn't have a choice.