Free The Donors by Jeffrey Wilson

knew Rich wanted him to ask about the girl, so naturally, he refused. “Ready to get going?”
    â€œYeah,” Dietrich said with an exaggerated stretch and yawn. “Pretty worn out this evening, I don’t mind tellin’ ya’,” he baited.
    â€œNo doubt,” Jason answered, feigning disinterest. “I have one sickie pending and another that might be a discharge.”
    â€œShe might be Miss Right,” Rich said and looked longingly down the hall at miss-right-now. She winked and waved with two fingers just before the magnetic doors shut. Jason felt a tug of jealousy, not at the parade of meaningless sex in his friend’s life (he really didn’t have more than a passing curiosity about that), but at the ease with which Rich talked to everyone, women included. Jason would have given about anything to be that comfortable.
    Jason shook the thought off; they were pointless at best and distracting enough to keep him from talking to Jenny at worst.
    â€œReady?” he demanded, more irritably than he intended. Not Rich’s fault he had what Jason needed.
    â€œYeah, sorry,” Rich said and let himself get drawn into the somewhat boring tale of the very sick Mrs. Cathcart and the very annoying (and probably drug-seeking) Mr. Griffey.
    Fifteen minutes later, Jason stood at the elevators, his back-pack over one shoulder, and stared at the button instead of pushing it. He didn’t want to rehearse what he would say to Jenny and sound stilted and… well, rehearsed. But on the other hand, he couldn’t just walk up unprepared and stammer at her like a choking victim (as he had done once already). He felt a familiar dread grow inside of him and rubbed his face with both hands.
    â€œGod, don’t be such an asshole,” he said to himself quietly. Then he looked up and saw an old man. The guy stared with a gaze usually reserved for a half-naked man on a street corner holding a “The End Is Coming” sign. “Good morning,” Jason said, looking directly at him. The man only nodded in response and moved slowly away.
    He mashed the up button with some irritation and one of the elevator doors swooshed open. Inside, he pushed the number six, then crossed his arms across his chest in defiance. He had to go up, for Christ’s sake. He had to see Nathan in any case. For all he knew Jenny wouldn’t even be there. He had no idea what her work schedule was.
    Jenny sat at a round table looking through a chart. She looked beautiful. Jason stood at the doorway to the ICU for a moment and just watched her. She twirled her hair with one hand, the other resting on the clipboard. When she looked up and saw him, a smile lit her face. Instead of just smiling back, Jason walked over to her with a casualness he didn’t feel, hoping he didn’t look stupid. Hi, I’m Larry…
    â€œHi, I’m Jason,” he said awkwardly and then felt so foolish he almost turned around.
    â€œI know who you are, Dr. Gelman,” Jenny said with a little chuckle. She held his eyes, his smile, and waited expectantly.
    Jason took a deep breath and dove right in. “So how is our little guy this evening?” he asked and boldly sat down in the empty chair next to her.
    â€œHe’s doing fine,” Jenny said cheerfully. “I actually have him tonight, so I’ll be looking after him. Listen…” She leaned forward, putting her warm hand on his wrist. Her hand felt smooth, soft on his skin and he worried he might actually give off a contented sigh. “I heard what you did earlier this afternoon, and, well, I just wanted to tell you I think you’re great. I wish you were his doctor all the time instead of the Burn Service Team.”
    She looked down the hall at a group of retreating white coats with poorly veiled disappointment. “I’m sure they’re all good, but they barely even talk to the poor kid.” Her hand squeezed his wrist