A Five-Minute Life by Emma Scott

Author:Emma Scott [Scott, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Jim

I was outside with Mr. Perello when Thea came back from a shopping excursion with Rita and Delia, looking as if she’d been on a beach vacation. I nearly dropped the lighter as I went to light Mr. P’s smoke.

Gone were the bulky khaki pants and shapeless tops. Thea wore sandals, shorts that revealed approximately eighty-two miles of gorgeous legs, a tank top that clung to her curves, and sunglasses. She popped bubblegum while she hauled shopping bags over her shoulders. Her blond hair was a tousled mess that I wanted to sink my fingers in to.

She caught sight of me, lowered her sunglasses with one finger, and wiggled her pinky at me in hello.

“Well?” Mr. Perello said from the bench. “You just going to stare at her like a dope? Say hi back.”

But by the time I got my shit together, Thea was stepping through Blue Ridge’s front door. Delia gave me a hard look before she disappeared inside.

“That’s a grade-A stink-eye right there,” Mr. Perello supplied helpfully.

“Tell me about it.”

Inside, I made my rounds, and then it was rec time. I found Thea sitting with Rita and Delia, surrounded by her doctors, just about to start a post-excursion barrage of questions.

“How do you feel?” Dr. Chen asked. “Was it difficult to process being in a crowded place like a mall?”

“You mean after being cooped up here for so long?” Thea replied. “No, it was easy but…”

She found me in the corner and smiled as if we hadn’t just seen each other minutes ago; better than a million compliments. Then her smile turned sly, and she winked at me.

“But what?” Dr. Milton prompted.

“But… I don’t know. I feel like…” She shook her head, confusion filling her gaze.

A few days ago, I’d panic but now I immediately knew what she was up to. I put my palm on the top of the broom and settled in to watch the performance.

“I… I’m… my…” She worked her jaw as if it had suddenly become stiff.

There she goes…

“My… may…” She glanced around in a panic. “Mais, qu’est-ce qui m’arrive?”1

Dr. Milton gave a start. “Beg your pardon?”

I stifled a laugh in my shoulder as Thea’s eyes widened and her hands flew to her throat.

“Je ne peux pas m’arrêter de parler français!”2

Dr. Milton stared at Thea, his jaw opening and closing. Dr. Chen, however, crossed her arms and mutely shook her head at an intern to stop taking notes.

“C’est normal?” Thea begged of Dr. Milton. “Qu’est ce qui cloche chez moi?”

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Dr. Chen answered, a bemused smirk on her face. “Nice try. Four years of French, here. Et vous?”

“Six,” Thea said with a giggle.

“What…?” Delia stared in alarm, then slumped in her seat. “Honestly, Thea, there is something wrong with you. Very wrong.”

Thea burst out laughing. “Couldn’t help myself. I finally found a good use for it.”

Dr. Milton chuckled. “Quite a prankster.”

“It gets old, trust me,” Delia said.

“If we could get back to our evaluation?” Dr. Chen said.

Thea shot me another smile and a sheepish shrug.

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