*The Color Of Hunger* Begins 01

Waiting, I hate waiting, and that’s what I was stuck doing two days after my arrival to Lewiston Maine. The school I went to down south wasn’t as strict as the one I would be going to starting Monday, and I didn’t like it. Just because I moved, they wanted me to get a Titers, in which they drew my blood and checked to make sure my shots were up to date. They wouldn’t just accept my word for it, no, they were making me sit in this little waiting room and have blood, my blood, taken from me.

Needless to say, I was slightly irritated.

There weren’t many people here today, in fact only one other person was in the room with me and its probably because it was a Tuesday, early Tuesday. I had a thing, a quirk if you will, because when I had an appointment, no matter what it was for, it was going to be early. That way I got it done and over with.

An older woman sat in the unrealistically uncomfortable waiting room chair across from me, her face covered by a magazine about health. I was smarter, I brought my own book…my favorite book…?. She’d been here when I arrived and was just sitting there. I couldn’t resist watching her, it was a hobby of mine, people watching, observing their behaviors alone or in groups.

It was usually, very interesting.

She pulled the magazine down and glanced at her watch and I grasped that it wasn’t an older woman. The way she was dressed just made her look that way, like a late thirties business woman, her face did not match.

I made it look like I was staring into my book, an act that I had perfected, but kept at least one eye on her.

She looked around the room impatiently, not looking at me twice. Her hair was up in a high bun, a French twist kind of thing. I could only assume that it was long, it just had to be for the bun to be that big on the back of her head, and two strands of blond hair were set perfectly on either sides of her pale face. She reminded me of a hippie, but a business hippie if that makes any sense.

I kept watching as she checked her watch again, sighing with an irritated expression on her face. By the look of her, she appeared to be barely over twenty three and her eyes, which were a piercing ocean blue and extremely cat-like with long, full black lashes, stared at the door that lead to the Doctors office. I wondered what she was here for, was she getting her blood drawn too, or something else? By the looks of her, in the dark mauve business suit, she appeared to be doing more then getting blood drawn.

It was my turn to look at the giant clock behind her, my appointment was five minutes ago.

That upset me, but not enough to go back to my book. I continued to watch her, completely enthralled by her mere presence. She never lifted the magazine back up and kept her face as smooth as a stone, nothing showing as she pinched the bridge of her nose and shifted between staring at the floor and the door.

Another five minutes later, my appointment now ten minutes late, the door opened so quietly I wouldn’t have noticed it if the blond woman hadn’t been sitting directly beside it, and I wouldn’t have been casually watching her.

A man stepped out, only he looked more like a boy, with extremely messy black hair. All I could think about doing it when I saw it was fixing it. I had to resist the temptation to reach into my bag and run my comb through his hair. That would have been a pleasant first meeting:

“Excuse me..” I’d say as I grabbed the comb and started towards him. His eyes would see it in my hands and he’d take a step back.

“What are you doing?” he’d asked, terrified as I took another step towards him. That’s when I’d pounce, tugging and dragging the comb through his hair until it was perfect.

Yeah right, like I’d do that.

She stood up and he handed her a vile, one smaller then I’d ever seen, filled with what looked like blood. She took it with a genuinely irritated smirk on her pale and magnificent face. They must work together because the way they reacted to each others presence was one of comfort.

“What took so long?” she asked quietly. I heard the malice in her voice, filled with venom, but it still sounded so smooth and soft, nothing like I had expected.

The man vaguely shrugged one shoulder, both ignoring my presence completely. “It took a while to clean.” he said nonchalantly. I was surprised by the fluency of his voice, the way it seemed to flow like water. Perfect and crisp.

She snorted, something that I couldn’t see her doing, but she did. It made me chuckle.

Both eyes turned to me, but I acted like I was reading. They knew I was listening. The conversation would now be edited.

“It’s fine.” she said quickly after that, taking the vile from his hands so swiftly I thought that I missed the movement. “I need to go though. Dean’s helping me with the mixes today. The new batch we got is different from the last few.”

“Okay,” he nodded. I slid down further into my chair, sinking my eyes into the words on the page as she walked passed me. Her suit fit her slim body, showing off her twisty curves. The dark mauve, nearly black, of it made her look like a moving silhouette.

The door shut behind her, closing without a sound.

“Are you Charlotte Fitch?” I heard the man ask. I blinked to move my eyes without him noticing where I was looking, but I didn’t need to. He was staring into a folder that had my medical records in it. I grimaced to think that someone this good looking had my entire history right in front of his nose.

“Yeah,” I rose, stuffing my book into my bag.

“Then follow me.” he tried to say cheerfully, casting me a smile I knew right away was a forced one. It was still breathtaking though. He had a great face for smiles, a chiseled, straight jaw and high cheek bones, a boyish face and sparkling brown eyes.

I couldn’t hold back the smile as I walked pass him into the room.

The room was just as I expected it, white walls and with a door leading to one of the hospital bathrooms, some office space, and a giant chair. The lazy boy chair stayed in place, looking extremely appealing compared to the chairs in the waiting room.

It was designed that way, to lure people into the chair comfortably, completely forgetting about the needles and reek of anesthesia and antiseptics.

All of it was completely normal, exactly as it was in Daytona. What I liked most was how clean and organized it was, and very unlike the guy (who was about to take my blood’s) hair.

The one thing I did question was the music. It wasn’t the classic radio stuff they always played to relax you, usually annoying me, but he was playing an upbeat, slightly heavy rock song from the radio sitting on the window sill on the left side of the giant chair. He turned it down to a soft hum and gestured for me to sit in the lazy boy chair.

I gladly sunk it.

He walked over to the cabinets and began to meticulously wash his hands, something I was glad he was doing. If he hadn’t, I would of forced the matter. With his back to me, all I could see was the dark blue jeans under his long lab coat. It was odd to see someone so young working in the medical field. He looked barely twenty.

Maybe he’s an intern.

I leaned back and closed my eyes as I listened to him pulling open drawers and opening packages. I heard him move the stool and sit beside me, that’s when I decided to open my eyes.

I should have kept them closed.

He was looking at the moveable table beside us, keeping the sterilized field, well, sterile. Up this close, I saw the true beauty of his face, the perfection in his straight, angular, yet boyish face and the green ring around the iris of his round brown eyes.

I struggled to remain composed when to turn to me and smiled. It was again, breathtaking. He looked down at the folder he had sit on the giant chair, my folder, and started talking.

“Are you Charlotte Fitch?”

I cleared my throat, forcing the composure that I was severely lacking. “Yes.”

“Is your date of birth January 7, 1990, making you seventeen years old?”

Again, I had clear my throat, but made it easier by looking at the needles on the table. “Yes.”

“Good,” he said cheerfully, looking back up at me and smiling. “are you ready?”

I nodded, maybe a bit to forcefully, but he didn’t seem to notice. He’s probably mistaking it for fear of needles or blood, something simple, and not his absolutely gorgeous face.

“Are you new around here?” he asked as he tied the huge rubber cord around my arm.

I forced myself to look away from him as he did this. Normally, I was astounded and loved watching people inject me with things or take blood, but if I was going to talk with some fluency, I could not look at this guy.

“Yeah, very new.”

“When did you arrive?” he asked, watching my vein come into view.

“Two days ago.” We were silent for a second as he set the IV needle overtop my vein.

He broke my skin with the needle. It pinched, but only briefly. “Wow, you smell good.” he said, sounding extremely surprised as some blood hit the needle. I didn’t notice anything, but what he had just said.

Now I had to look at him. “Excuse me?”

He met my eyes and smiled crookedly. “Sorry, but you really do smell very good.”

He lowered his eyes and looked at the needle in my vein, took off the rubber band and plugged the vile into the IV. I soundlessly watched, mesmerized by the red liquid as it filled the vile.

“Thanks.”

He took off the first vile after it had filled and added another one. I knew they took quite a bit of blood for this test, but I didn’t realize it was this much. I was always very acute to this liquid life force flowing through me, if I lost too much, I’d pass out.

And I was starting to get dizzy.

“Are you alright?” he asked as I held my head in my free hand. I nodded slowly, trying not to bring on the dizziness so much that I had to ask Freddie to come and pick me up.

“It’s fine, just, when I get blood taken it makes me dizzy.”

“Alright, just keep your eyes closed. I’m almost done.”

I nodded again, feeling the rolling and falling feeling float around in my head. I gripped it tighter and took in deep breaths, controlling the sensation.

I felt him pull against the needle in my arm, taking off the second vile, and then pull out the needle and place a bandage on it. He kept his hand placed firmly on the crest of my inner elbow.

“I’m putting pressure to stop the bleeding, just keep your eyes closed. Lean you head back if you need to.”

I didn’t bother nodding this time, I just hung my head back and took deep calming breaths, focusing on the feel of his hand placed half on the bandage and half on my skin. It felt cooler then usual, but pleasantly, not a dead cold, just a cool breeze on a hot day kind of thing.

The pressure lifted off my arm. “Okay, it’s done bleeding.”

I slowly opened my eyes and felt better, but I couldn’t bring my head up yet.

“Let me get you something to drink,” he softly patted my shoulder. “rest here.”

“Okay.” I breathed, closing my eyes again. I heard the water running from the faucet and his steps as he walked back.