Cemtery Weather

Three: Vic

"Would you fucking shut up already?!" Mike snapped, slamming his hands down on the table.

Jaime nodded, "yeah, it's getting ridiculous," he said in agreement.

"What?" I asked, "I don't get it..."

"You need to shut up about that Keira chick," Tony shrugged, "you haven't stopped talking about her since you got home last night."

"I'm sorry! She's just so perfect!" I yelped in exasperation.

"If you like her so much, go ask her on a date!" Mike growled, making a hasty exit.

I frowned, "I can't do that... I bet she didn't even know who I am... Like I'd probably seem freaky if I just went back and asked her out," I thought out loud.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Jaime chuckled and patted my shoulder before grabbing Tony's arm and pulling him outside.

What could I do to get Keira to go on a date with me, that wouldn't make me look like a creepy stalker? Maybe I should just go back and ask her out. No way. That's too suspicious. What if...? Yes. That's it.

I quickly climbed into the van and drove myself to the hospital. "Can I talk to Keira? I think there's something wrong with my stitches," I asked the receptionist.

"You do realize Keira's not even a doctor, right?" The lady asked in a bored tone, "she's a medical examiner."

"What does that have to do with anything? She's the one who gave me stitches yesterday," I sassed right back.

"Whatever," she grumbled, picking up her phone and calling for Keira Lewis.

Keira Lewis. She had such a pretty name. God I'm fucking weird. But I couldn't get her out of my head, and I wanted to get to know her. She seemed cool, I don't know.

"What can I do for y- oh, it's you," she sighed, folding her arms across her chest.

"Hey, uhm, I think there's something wrong with my stitches," I mumbled, smiling shyly at Keira. Shyly? I don't get fucking shy. What is this bullshit?

"Oh my god," she sighed under her breath, "ok, come with me."

I did a mini victory dance and followed her into a room. "Sit," she ordered, and sit I did. "What's wrong with the sutures?" She asked.

"The who?" I looked at her sideways.

"The stitches," she mumbled, "what's wrong with the stitches?"

"Oh, uh, nothing actually..." I chuckled, "I just needed an excuse to come see you again..." I awkwardly rubbed the back of my neck, smiling hopefully at her.

"And why in the world would you want to come see me again?" She asked, her cheeks turning pink.

I smiled again, "because I couldn't get you out of my head last night... I don't know what it is about you, but I'd really love to get to know you."

"I don't even know your name," she whispered, looking down at her feet.

"Oh my fuck... I'm such an ass... I'm sorry, my name's Vic," I stood and extended my non-stitched hand in her direction.

"Is Vic your real name?" She didn't shake my hand, only looked at me sideways.

I chuckled, "well no, my real name is Victor, but everyone just calls me Vic."

"I don't do nicknames," Keira stated, "so, it's nice to meet you, Victor, but I also don't go on dates with patients."

"But you're not really a doctor," I smirked, "so technically it wouldn't be a date with a patient."

"You're right," she thought, "if you were dead I wouldn't go on a date with you."

"Wait, what?!" I gasped.

She smiled, "I'm a medical examiner, I do autopsies," she explained.

"Like on CSI and stuff?" I cringed, thinking how weird that job must be.

She shook her head, and tucked a strand of her beautiful blonde hair behind her ear, "it's really nothing like CSI. It takes days to get results, instead of mere minutes or seconds. The lab is nowhere near as high tech, ninety percent of what happens on those kinds of shows is Hollywood playing up a good story."

"Oh," I mumbled.

"Sorry," she blushed and looked down, "I just get so frustrated that people think forensic science is like what they portray on TV, because it's not."

"It's ok, I think it's cute," I smiled at her. "Oh shit... Sorry I uhm, I... Fuck it, I think you're cute," I stuttered out, I mean, there's no use trying to cover that one up.

"Keira!" A voice called from outside, and Keira smiled at me.

"I'm sorry, Victor, I have to go... I'm needed in the morgue," she waved as she headed out the door.

"Keira! Wait," I called after her.

She shook her head, "sorry, Victor! I have to go!" And with that she was gone.

Fuckity fuck fuck shit. I didn't properly ask her on a date, and she's gone. What am I gonna tell the guys when I get home? I can't just tell them she said no... They'd give me hell for giving up. Fuck. I'm gonna catch her after her shift and I'm gonna ask her again.