She shrugged and looked at Mandi expectantly.

“She’s okay, I think. Hasn’t seemed herself lately,” Mandi’s eyes met Andrew’s briefly before she continued, “but she had an important meeting today about her job here. I think she’s been worried about it.”

“Oh, really? Do you know how it went?” Jeni asked.

“No, I don’t. Do you guys need anything else right now?”

“Nope,” Andrew replied. Nothing she could give him, anyway.

The minute Mandi left, he searched for Lauren, but she was nowhere to be found. He unlocked his phone and texted her.

Andrew: I heard you had a meeting about your job today. I hope that’s a good thing, but I can’t help but worry. Was it about what happened between us? Will you tell me what happened?

By the time his premeds finished she still hadn’t responded.

Andrew: Just tell me if it was good or bad. That’s it, that’s all I want to know. I won’t tell you all the things I want to say, like how I can’t stop thinking about you and how I miss you, and how much I love you. Because I still know what we’re doing is best (at least, I hope it is. Because it sucks balls). So pretend I didn’t say any of that. Your happiness means so much to me, and I have to know. Please give me one word: good or bad?

Lauren: Good.

Lauren: And I agree about the balls.

Relief filled him. He wanted to keep talking to her and started another message several times but kept forcing himself to erase them. If she wanted to talk to him, she would, and he needed to give her space.

He sighed and aimlessly looked around the room. The patients surrounding him were of all colors, shapes, and sizes. He thought of Jasmine, and how cancer didn’t discriminate against age, either. Cancer sure was an asshole.

His mind circled back to an idea he’d been mulling over, wanting to give Jasmine the normal day she so desperately desired. Away from the hospital, and like a normal teenager.

If the past few weeks had taught him anything, it was not to waste a single day. He returned his attention to his phone.

He had some calls to make.

…

The following week, Andrew received a call from Todd Griffin, asking him to stop by the office.

“Andrew.” Todd stood and held out a hand. “Thanks for coming in.”

Andrew shook the older man’s hand and sat down across the desk. “Sure. Is something happening with Isla’s case? What can I help with?”

Todd shook his head. “Everything is moving along fine with that. I still expect our first court appearance in early April, like we’d planned.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Andrew propped his ankle across the opposite knee, unsure why Todd had asked to meet with him today.