Bab 22: Without Him

How do you say that someone looked like shit without actually swearing or offending them?

Asking for a friend.

Dad had just dropped me off at school before he went to work like normal, but the stares and giggles I was getting from everyone were anything but.

I held my head high, refusing to cower. I was not the one in the wrong. I was the victim… although I would never admit that part out loud.

No, they could laugh all they wanted to. But I would be keeping a list of names… hopefully, they wouldn't need any medical attention in the hospital I worked at. I would like to say I wasn't petty, but I was. And no one was dumb enough to piss off someone that could potentially save their life one day.

Too bad, so sad.

I walked up the massive staircase to the front doors and walked down the halls to my locker, only to stop dead when I saw Bai Long Qiang leaning against it, his eyes closed.

He looked like ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag… but I didn't think it would be appropriate to say that.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly. Even though I tried to keep my voice low and calm, he still managed to start, only to wince and hold his ribs.

"I'm good," he assured me when he was able to catch his breath.

"Sure you are," I replied, flinging his hand away from where it was clutching his side. I reached under his shirt and let the tips of my fingers brush over his skin… until it met with a bandage.

"Who the fuck told you to do that?" I demanded, pulling his shirt up so I could see the white piece of cloth wrapped around his ribs. It was the stupidest thing you could do for injured ribs. A child knew that.

I was concentrating so much on the boy in front of me that I failed to take into account that we were in the middle of a hallway surrounded by students.

Nosey students who kept trying to see Bai Long Qiang's abs.

Couldn't they see he was injured?

I let out a low growl just as laughter caught me off guard.

"Ouch, extra training?" asked one of the guys I knew was Bai Long Qiang's good friend.

"Yeah," he replied, grunting when I started to untie the knot holding the fabric together and unwound it from his torso. "5 am. Dad didn't hold back much, that's for sure."

I tuned out the conversation, focusing my attention on the bruising and swelling that was starting to develop. The fact that normal bruising takes one to two days to appear, and these are in full bloom hours later, let me know just how hard he must have been hit.

"Try to breathe normally," I said, pretty sure that I was interrupting a riveting conversation about football and the upcoming games. Unfortunately for pretty boy, he was not going to be in any condition to play.

I ran my fingers over the ribs, one at a time, until I could picture them inside of my head. None were broken, thank God, but I would assume that some of them had been cracked. His breathing was a bit too shallow for my liking, suggesting that it hurt to take in a deep breath.

"Whoever told you to wrap them up is a quack," I grunted. I wished I had some sort of magical power to heal him, but I knew that wasn't possible. Cracked ribs took about six weeks to recover, and there was nothing that could be done to speed things up.

Bai Long Qiang raised an eyebrow at my words. "Doctor Li has been treating my family members for years," he said, his eyes searching mine. "He knows what he is doing."

"Ha!" I replied, letting out a bark of laughter. "He has to be really old if he is still wrapping cracked ribs. The compression can cause more harm than good since it can restrict breathing. That can lead to pneumonia or even a partial lung collapse. Is that what you want? For your lung to collapse? Because I can easily wrap them up again if you don't believe me."

"Of course, I believe you," said Bai Long Qiang, a look of panic flashing over his face at the fact that I was yelling at him. "If you say no compression, I won't let anyone wrap my ribs, okay?" He held up his hands in a placating manner while his friend was laughing like a donkey beside him.

"I never thought I would see the day," smirked his friend, whose name was currently escaping me. "The living God, Bai Long Qiang scared of a little girl."

"That makes him smart," I snapped, my gaze never leaving the guy in front of me. I was a doctor. It was just as easy to take a life than to save it. Most of the time, it was easier.

It just depended on your moral compass.

I grunted and put down his shirt, smoothing the buttons of his white dress shirt until everything was back in place properly.

I wanted to ask him a question, but I didn't want it to come out sounding egotistical. "This isn't because of what happened yesterday, right?" I asked softly. I really wanted to ask him if his ribs were cracked because of me, but I couldn't get the words out.

"No," he assured me, patting me on the head. "I am leaving for the military in three years, and Dad has decided that I need to up my training. You would think that the military went easier on those whose families were in the military, but it is the opposite. I am just trying to prepare."

I nodded my head. I was pretty sure he was bullshitting me right now, but I wasn't going to call him out on it.

I was also pissed at the idea he was leaving me in three years.

It would be fine. I had gone 25 years without him; I could go another 25.