The Bad Boy and The New Girl

Chapter 13

On the way to the doctor's, I thought that I should text my friends and let them know what was happening. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to the group chat explaining that I left the party because I didn't feel well and I was sorry for bailing on the sleepover but hoped they enjoyed the rest of their night. I figured I could go into the details when I next saw them. It took a while to type out the text; my head was still spinning and occasional blurry vision made it hard for me to see what I was typing.

Once I sent the message, I dropped my phone into my lap and watched out of the front windscreen as we drove along quiet suburban streets lined with street lamps that casted their warm glow onto the pavement below. Every so often, Mason would quickly look over at me before returning his attention to the road, and I eventually asked him, "what are you doing?"

"What?"

"Why do you keep looking over here?"

"Just checking you're alright," he replied.

I smiled to myself, then told him, "I'm fine."

"Okay," he acknowledged, but nonetheless continued occasionally glancing over to check on me.

After a short drive, we arrived at the doctor's. Mason parked the car and we got out, then headed inside and towards the reception desk. After I briefly explained why I was there and gave the receptionist some details, we were asked to sit in the waiting area. Mason was right: it wasn't very busy, with only a few other people sat around the room.

We sat down on two chairs near the door and talked quietly while we waited. Mason bounced his leg up and down restlessly, and he seemed to become increasingly fidgety the longer we were waiting.

After ten minutes or so, the door to the waiting room opened and a doctor walked in.

"Madeleine Parker?" she called, and I stood up. I shrugged Mason's jacket off my shoulders and passed it back to him, then gave him a small wave as I left the waiting room and followed the doctor back to her office.

"Hi Madeleine, I'm Dr Reid," she introduced herself, and then proceeded to ask me questions. I explained what happened and she listened attentively, making notes as I spoke.

When I finished, Dr Reid assessed my injuries, first cleaning the scratches on my arms and chest and making sure that none of them required dressing. After this, she looked at the larger cut on my arm and re-dressed it, checked the cut on my face and applied some Steri-Strips to keep the wound closed, and explained how to look after my injuries.

Afterwards, I had a blood sample taken and Dr Reid explained that in terms of recovery, I couldn't really do much other than wait for the effects of the drug to wear off, which could take several hours, and come back if I experienced any of the more severe reactions or symptoms she listed.

"While your body is detoxing from the substance, it's important that you have someone you trust with you to observe your condition and provide support. I would recommend that you're not left alone during this time," she told me.

"Okay," I nodded.

I waited quietly as she finished up the paperwork, then she wished me well and reminded me to come back if I needed to. I thanked her and left, shutting the door gently behind me, then headed back to the waiting room.

As I approached, I could see Mason through the door window. He had his forearms rested on his thighs, which were bouncing impatiently, and was wringing his hands in the space between his knees. He was leaning forward in his chair, his head dropped towards the ground, but he looked up as soon as I pushed the door open and a look of relief washed over his face when he saw me.