Forgotten (Falls Elite #1)

24

Lex

The days pass in a blur until I get the call from the clinic. The receptionist, Maria, warmly tells me they'd like to bring me in for a trial shift and see if I'm a good fit for the team. After hanging up, I take a deep breath, trying to keep the jitters at bay. This is my chance to prove myself—to actually do something on my own.

When the day finally arrives, I pull on a pair of worn jeans and an old sweatshirt, hoping I look capable and ready. The clinic is quiet as I walk in, the hum of activity almost soothing. The walls are decorated with pictures of pets—some playful, others cozying up to their owners.

Maria greets me at the front desk, her kind smile putting me slightly more at ease. "Welcome, Lex! Let's get you started with the basics."

She hands me a pair of scrubs, and I quickly change in the back room. When I return, Maria introduces me to the lead vet, Dr. Sloane, who seems almost as busy as he is friendly.

"Glad to have some extra help," he says, giving me a nod. "It can get a little chaotic, especially when the rescues come in. Ready to jump in?"

I nod, hoping he can't see my nerves. "Yes. Definitely."

He gestures to a row of kennels where a handful of cats and small dogs are waiting for their morning routines—feeding, cleaning, and fresh water. It's simple work, but even then, I find myself fumbling slightly as I figure out the system. Despite my clumsiness, Maria is patient, showing me each step with practiced ease.

I'm working with a small black cat when I hear voices at the front of the clinic. Glancing over, I see a group of people at the reception desk, one of whom looks oddly familiar. But before I can make out who it is, Maria calls me over.

"Hey, Lex, could you help with some supplies? We're reorganizing the back storage room, and it could use an extra hand."

I follow her to the back, where shelves are crammed with everything from food to medicine. As I start sorting supplies, I get a strange sense of peace from the work. The rhythm of stocking and organizing feels like a break from everything outside these walls.

But then I hear that familiar voice again, somewhere near the front. It's unmistakably Tate. My chest tightens, and I can't resist taking a quick peek around the corner.

There he is, leaning casually against the counter, talking to Dr. Sloane. He's dressed in a fitted jacket, his hair effortlessly tousled in that way that looks both messy and somehow meticulously styled. Tate's laughter echoes down the hallway, and for a second, I forget I'm at work. He doesn't seem to notice me peeking around the corner, and I quickly duck back behind a shelf.

Did he come here just to chat, or is he somehow involved with the clinic?

I shake off the thought, diving back into my task, but my focus is broken. I keep hearing snippets of Tate's voice, and my curiosity gets the best of me. When he finally leaves, I breathe a sigh of relief, but I can't help wondering why he was here and how often he shows up.

By lunchtime, I've settled into the routine. Maria joins me in the small staff room, where we each have a quick break between tasks. I pull out a sandwich, grateful for the chance to sit down for a minute.

"Is that Tate Bell I saw earlier?" I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.

Maria raises an eyebrow, smiling knowingly. "Yes, that's him. He's been a regular around here for a while. Comes in to help out every so often—family friends with Dr. Sloane, I believe."

I nod, not wanting to give away too much of my interest. But Maria isn't done. She gives me a curious look.

"Do you know him?"

I shrug. "We go to the same school."

"Oh, I see," Maria says, leaning back with a thoughtful expression. "He's actually quite helpful when he's around, despite... well, you know." She gestures vaguely, as if referring to something about him she assumes I already know.

I don't press for details, but my curiosity is piqued. Tate, volunteering at a clinic? The version of him I know doesn't quite line up with the idea of him willingly helping out with animals in his free time.

After lunch, I throw myself back into work, hoping the hands-on tasks will keep my mind off Tate. The afternoon is a blur of feeding, organizing, and learning how to handle some of the medical equipment for Dr. Sloane's checkups. I'm mentally exhausted by the time my shift ends, but there's a sense of satisfaction in it, too. I survived my first day.

As I step out into the chilly evening air, my phone buzzes with a text from Aisling.

Aisling: How'd it go? Are you a full-on animal whisperer now?

Me: Survived Day 1 without disaster, so I'll call it a win.

Her response is almost instant.

Aisling: Proud of you! We need details. Café tomorrow?

Smiling, I agree to meet them the next day. With my first day behind me, I feel a small surge of confidence. If I can handle this, maybe I can tackle more than I thought.