With a dismissive wave, I give him a piece of my mind. “If your friends judge you for getting medical treatment, then they can go fall in dog poo for all I care.”

Ben smiles at me, looking both amused and confused. “Fall in dog poo?”

“Have you ever fallen in dog poo?”

He shakes his head.

“Well, it sucks. Smelly, embarrassing, and definitely not something you forget. I know I haven’t.” Worst day of middle school ever.

Ben opens his mouth like he’s about to ask more questions, but the doorbell cuts him off.

“That’s probably Dr. Stevens. He comes by once a month for a checkup. Give me a second.” He jogs down the hall.

With a slow spin, I take in the whole room. Other than the chair and the machine, there’s a window with a plant on the sill, a sink, a cabinet that probably holds all the medical supplies, a large TV mounted on the wall, and a small side table with a lamp and remote control. My guess is that Ben doesn’t like spending any more time in here than he has to. There’s not even another chair for someone else to sit in.

“Hey, Holly. You remember Dr. Stevens?” Ben stands in the doorway next to a familiar middle-aged man with faded black hair and deep lines around his eyes.

All that identifies him as a doctor is the stethoscope around his neck and the classic physician’s bag grasped in his left hand.

He reaches out his empty palm to shake mine. “Nice to see you again, Holly. I just wanted to say that what you’re doing for Ben is wonderful. And really brave of you.”

I shrug, trying to ignore the queasiness in my stomach when I think about the part of this process that requires me to be brave. “Happy to help.”

“That’s good to hear. Now, sorry to do this, but would you mind giving Ben and me a few moments?” Dr. Stevens sets his bag down by the sink.

Ben’s smile is tight and apologetic.

“No problem.” I move to back out of the room. “I’m just going to go root through all your stuff and find out all your dirty secrets.”

I wink, and he gives me a nice, deep laugh. Seeing a real smile back in place makes it easy for me to retreat. I shut the door behind me and get ready to explore.

Maybe rifling through his things was an exaggeration, but I still plan on checking this swanky place out. The current floor is mainly bedrooms.

Peeking my head in one, I guess it’s his parents’. There’s a lived-in quality, even with the bed neatly made. Books sit on each nightstand, and a makeup table is covered in perfume bottles and a bunch of cosmetics. A cracked door reveals a walk-in closet that I am pretty sure is the same size as my roommate’s bedroom. I don’t go any further than leaning in through the doorway. I’m not a total creep.