When reading week was over, Everleigh found herself at clinical again. Their professor scheduled the class in the walk-in clinic to give them some hands-on time with anything they might have to deal with in a given day. Geriatric and children's was fine, but random injuries and ear infections and sore throats would give them a better idea of what a shift in emergency would look like if they got a job there. Going to the clinic was better than being in class, but only marginally. Everleigh had the feeling her professor didn't want them in there as much as she didn't want to be in there. It worked out. Everleigh was pretty sure she was close to graduation as well, she really needed to meet with an academic advisor.

"Everleigh?" The voice of Lennon James, Everleigh's shadow for the two weeks they were there, was evident.

Lennon was only thirty, but had decided to be in nursing right out of secondary school, unlike Everleigh. Lennon was damn good at her job at any capacity, so being able to learn from someone closer to her age was a welcome treat. Some of the people in her class had older nurses who simply expected them to know everything—Everleigh didn't need that kind of stress when she was still juggling giving away flights so she could attend clinical.

"Yes?"

"I don't want to overstep," Lennon said. "But you got a whole grey cloud hanging over you. You okay? Clinic floor isn't great for cloudy days."

Everleigh would sound insane if she told Lennon the actual reason she was upset. The man I wasn't actually dating kissed someone else and seeing it upset me and has for a couple days now. I'm bonkers, I know.

"I'm fine."

"You look like you haven't slept."

Not in days. "I have."

"Or eaten."

Not in days. Spare a handful of crisps to keep her upright. She had half a mind to know that Stevie would probably kill her if she found out she hadn't been taking care of herself in the slightest. It was lucky she'd showered that day for her shift. "I have."

Everleigh was aware how shallow her cheeks looked and how dark her under-eyes were. It wasn't like she was trying to hide it. She didn't have the energy to. Figuring out which kind of makeup was supposed to cover what part of her face was a terrible experience she didn't force herself to go through.

Lennon stared at her like her mother. Knowing she was lying and trying not to call her out. (Though, Lennon was better than Dawn at staying quiet.) "Tell me if that changes?"

Everleigh stayed quiet.

"Leigh."

"I'll try."

Lennon took her hand and dragged her off the floor, into a lunch area behind reception that nobody quite had the time to use because of how many people were there for walk-in. Everleigh wanted to put her feet down, but still felt like she didn't have the energy to. There was something to say that she'd let some man affect her to the point that her eating disorder recovery had been thrown out entirely. There were too many times she had Stevie or Juno's phone numbers dialled and couldn't make herself press call. Something to say about shutting herself away while she studied mental health and how it was okay to ask for help. Everleigh was a walking contradiction wrapped in hypocrisy gauze. Especially since the last thing Stevie had said to her before Everleigh returned to London was that she was only a phone call away.

Stevie would kill her if she knew any of that; the lack of sleep, the straying from eating, the general treating herself like ass. Everleigh was certain of it. If she had called her, the sound of Stevie's voice probably could've turned any dark day around, whether she admitted what was going on, or simply asked how the singer's day had gone. Everleigh was wonderful at playing therapist for everyone except herself.

"Okay." Lennon leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms. "It's been, like, a week since you got home. And you're acting weird."

"I don't want to talk about—" Everleigh's stomach didn't have to growl that fucking loud. It really didn't.

Lennon shot her the most disappointed mother look someone had ever managed to give Everleigh. And she'd seen a lot. "About what I thought." Lennon immediately walked to the fridge, pulling out a lunch kit labelled with her name. She pulled a couple granola bars from the front pocket. "Eat. Now."

"I can grab something from the vending—" Everleigh's heart beat a little too quick.

"Eat. Now." Lennon held the granola bars out to her as she put the lunchbox back in the fridge. "You need to be here while you're working. Brain fog won't help that."

Everleigh wished she could stop her hand from shaking as she reached out for one of the granola bars. Wanting nothing more than to have Lennon leave her be and simply pretend she'd eaten it. With the look Lennon gave her, Everleigh had the sinking feeling that if she didn't finish the granola bar, let alone take one bite, that Lennon was going to force feed it to her herself. And Lennon knew all the ways. She'd worked with kids for the first few years she was at the clinic. Everleigh didn't want to test her.

Unwrapping the granola bar, Everleigh forced a bite into her mouth. Closed her eyes to ignore the shake in her hand. Chewed slowly, tried her best to keep it together.

"Everleigh." Lennon's voice was a lot gentler than it had been when her stomach was growling.

"Mhmm?" Everleigh opened her eyes to look at her.

"I'm sorry," Lennon said. "I didn't know... And shouldn't have forced that on you."

Everleigh felt her eyebrows knit together. She swallowed hard. The bite of granola like acid down her throat. Was she that transparent?

"Do you want me to call someone else? I can get you a new shadow, or—"

"Code white!" someone poked their head into the lunchroom to announce. "We need all employees ready for hands on deck."

"Which one's—" Everleigh started. Feeling silly for asking. She should know these things. But her brain felt like the neurons weren't quite hitting where they needed to. She needed sleep.

"Violent patient," Lennon said. "Let's go. Keep your distance, but you can watch."

Everleigh nodded and walked behind Lennon, feeling terrible about dropping the granola bar in the trashcan on her way out. Her stomach already swirled with panic over the code white; she didn't need anything in her stomach to lose. Lennon moved faster than Everleigh did, but it didn't take turning many corners to hear the yelling.

A man was being held back by one of the doctors and another nurse. There were other nurses guarding the rooms of patients and Everleigh thought she had caught another few nurses making sure the waiting area was safe and starting to practice there as well. It may have been a bit awkward to talk about ailments in front of others, but it was better than anyone walking past someone acting up. Everleigh thought she caught wind that someone had called the police.

"I need help, man!" the patient yelled. The patient, from what Everleigh could tell, was a couple inches taller than her, and weighed more than her. It was taking a lot of effort for two people to try and restrain them, Lennon joined immediately. Standing between Everleigh at the door and the patient in the middle of the tiny clinic room.

"We can get you help, but you need to remain calm," the doctor said. "If you sit down, we can help."

"You're just judging me," the patient said.

"No, I'm not. I want to help you."

"We all do," Lennon assured. "Can you tell me what's bothering you?"

"My head, man," the patient said. "My head hurts. And my arms."

"What kind of pain is it—"

"Headache," the patient said, "and bites. Bugs. Bugs."

Right. Everleigh could diagnose this. Probably steroids or something of the like. Itchy arms came from an allergic reaction. Headaches were a common side effect as well. Could also explain the anger.

"Can I get you to sit, please?" the doctor asked.

"No!" the patient shoved the doctor off them, taking a few steps forward.

It was second nature that Everleigh rushed over to help. Lennon helped the doctor up, which meant Everleigh took an arm and tried her best to restrain them. They were stronger than Everleigh expected, and she didn't think it was because of her exhaustion. Everleigh's feet were already sliding on the carpet.

"Nurse Everleigh—" Lennon protested, her voice urgent. It wasn't Everleigh's fault she acted on a whim.

Everleigh turned. Not her best plan when she didn't have a good grip on their patient's arm. Enough attention was given to Lennon that Everleigh didn't see the fist coming toward her. The patient socked her right in the eye, knocking her a couple steps backwards. Hand raised to her eye, Everleigh barely felt Lennon's hands on her shoulders over the exploding pain in her face.

"Okay, follow me, follow me. I got you." Lennon led her out of the room, Everleigh's eyes mostly closed from the impact.

"Where is the patient?"

"Down the hall, third door on the right," Lennon said. "Thank you."

Everleigh assumed that was the police officer. Lennon continued to take her down the hallway, she wasn't quite sure where they were going.

"Everleigh," Lennon said eventually, "Can I get you to sit down here?"

Everleigh slowly lowered herself down, eventually finding the chair.

Lennon put a hand on Everleigh's free one. "Can I see?"

"Does this happen often?" Everleigh tore her hand away from her face. Wished she couldn't see when Lennon's eyes widened slightly. The throbbing never left her face as Lennon walked to the freezer, handing her an ice pack.

"It shouldn't."

"But it does?" Everleigh winced as she pressed the ice pack to her eye.

"Not quite like this, but..." Lennon sighed. "There's a reason we have phone lines for violence against us."

"Are you okay?"

"Honey, I should be asking you that." Lennon sighed. "Can I call someone to come pick you up?"

"I can keep working..." The thought that Everleigh would simply go home and sit in silence was torturous.

"No, I'm sending you home. You're a student and it's already bruising," Lennon said. "I shouldn't have even brought you to that room. I'm sorry I did."

"I'm sorry I didn't listen."

"You're a nurse. You want to help. It's in your nature. Asking you to come with me was my mistake."

"It's not your fault."

Lennon pressed her lips together. "I'm going to get an incident report and while you're filling it in, I'll call someone to come get you."

"I can drive—"

"But you don't have to. Your car can stay here for the night and you shouldn't have to drive after something like that," Lennon said. "I'm sorry. For everything."

Lennon didn't have to say the words for Everleigh to know she meant exposing her bulimia and the punch. The other nurse might not have had all the details, but she wasn't stupid. Everleigh had taken enough classes to do with eating disorders—ones that made her vomit her latest meals in whatever hotel rooms she listened to the lectures in—that she knew Lennon could tell it was hard for Everleigh to eat even a bite of that granola bar. It wasn't just a bruise around the eye that Lennon was apologizing for.

Everleigh's brain made her feel like she'd been punched daily, at least she had a bruise for what she'd been through that time. She wasn't sure she even wanted to see it. Could she sleep for the next two weeks until it went away?

"Will you be understaffed—"

"I know you didn't just ask that when you got punched in the face." Lennon tsked her tongue at Everleigh. "I'll be right back. Do not remove that ice."

"Okay."

"I'm watching you."

"Okay."

"Seriously."

"I'd love to file this incident report, Lennon."

"Cheeky."

Everleigh gave her a smile that was half-smushed by the ice pack pressed to her eye.

Lennon left the room and Everleigh pulled her phone out from her back pocket, scrolling through her contacts. Who the hell was she even going to ask to come pick her up? She'd been ignoring Troy and Dawn since she got home, Florence was Florence. All three of her family members were too nosey. Juno was in Brazil. Wouldn't be home for another couple weeks. Fuck. That left one person—everyone else in Everleigh's contacts were co-workers or classmates who she didn't really talk to or people who had locations as their last names and were not pick her up from work types of people.

Everleigh craned her neck to see if Lennon was on her way back but pressed the call button. Hopefully it wouldn't be too disruptive to call during the day.

"Yello?"

"Did you seriously answer the phone with yello?"

"Only to annoy you, Leigh."

"Can you please come pick me up from work?"

"Are you okay?" The change in tone was instant. All hints of teasing gone.

"I'm okay. I just—"

"I'll be there soon. Tell me on the way home."

*

"Jesus. Is that Everleigh Meadowlark or Million Dollar Baby?"

"Wow, you're fuckin' hilarious, Roman. Thanks so much."

Roman leaned on his and Florence's car like the kind of boy she'd see in a movie. Except he was her sister's fiancé and was ready to tease her until she punched him in the face to see how he liked it. "What the hell happened?"

"Violent patient." Everleigh walked past him and around the car, hopping into the passenger seat. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Someone punched you?" Roman asked, getting into the driver's seat.

"No, I hit myself in the face with the freezer door after—yes, Roman, someone punched me in the face." Everleigh struggled with the seatbelt in her frustration. She pulled and pulled and pulled with no luck to getting it to move. And her eye fucking hurt, despite following the 15-20 rule for ice on, ice off.

"Are you okay?"

Everleigh shot him a defeated look after letting go of the seatbelt, hearing it retract loudly.

"Okay, it's fine." Roman gently leaned forward and grabbed the seatbelt for her, pulling it and clicking it into place. "What can I do to help you?"

"Shut up."

"Leigh."

"Sorry."

"Navster's in the back if you need to stare at something less jaded than you."

"Rude."

"Truthful."

Everleigh turned in her seat as Roman pulled out of the stall, reaching her finger out for Navi to wrap her hand around. It made her smile a little too hard when she did. Everleigh needed that. To have someone pure and full of everything and nothing to accept her and hold her and wordlessly tell her she'd be okay. Lot of pressure to put on a newborn, but Everleigh still did it.

"Do you want shitty small talk or should I put on the radio?"

"Radio."

"Roger, roger." Roman leaned forward slightly and pressed the stereo button.

"Who knew he could top his last album?" the radio host asked, overenthusiastically. "I'm still in awe of these six songs. The stealthy midnight release didn't fool anyone, with records being broken across multiple streaming platforms. Fans are screaming that had the album been longer, it could have been nominated for Album of the Year at the Grammys."

"I think it still could, I mean..." the other host rolled over their words for a moment. "The EP is phenomenal. A lot more energy compared to the last album we got. Revive is a fitting name for it. Got all the stops: newfound love, intimacy—"

"Oh, Paper Planes is my favourite from the EP. So much vulnerability. How do you even come up with a line like—"

Music started playing, clearly the middle of a song. The lyrics went want to trace the dotted line / on the small of your back, your spine / wishing you were mine / spent all night looking for a sign in a voice all too familiar. Everleigh sat up a little straighter, about to turn the radio off entirely. Drew her hand away from Navi's loose fist.

"I'm still geeking out about it," the host said. "And the paper plane being a tattoo? Genius. There are so many references to flying in this album we're sure to see a relationship announcement soon, yeah? After his rumoured girlfriend told press they were not dating, we're left in the dark wondering who this muse is. But let's all thank them for being the reason six amazing new songs have been released after such a long wait."

Everleigh was going to throw herself out of Roman's car.

"And if Maverick is listening, we all want to know who this mysterious tattoo belongs to, but for now," the other host said as slow music started playing. Everleigh wished she didn't recognize that tune, either. "Here's For Her."

"Green light—"

Everleigh slammed her hand on the radio button, turning it off quicker than she could comprehend.

Roman shot her a side glance. "Dare I ask what happened in New York?"

"Damn it, Roman." Everleigh groaned. "I picked you to come get me because I thought you wouldn't ask."

"Not because you had no other option?"

Everleigh frowned at him. "That too."

Roman managed a small smile. "Sorry for asking."

"I didn't..." Everleigh drew in a deep breath. "I didn't know he released a fucking EP—"

"Language, Leigh. You got away with a couple, but I gotta put my foot down."

"Sorry."

Roman looked ahead as he drove. "The EP is good. And..."

"And?"

"And, I mean, it's clearly about you. I assume you know that."

Everleigh cleared her throat. "Don't know what you mean."

"I didn't know you had a tattoo."

"Maybe it's not about me."

"Oh, yes, because Kingston Maverick always writes love songs about flight attendants and driving people home and planes—"

"Maybe his favourite film is Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. You ever think of that?"

"Is it?"

Everleigh's voice was quiet. "It's Lost in Translation."

Roman pouted his lips and tilted his head to the side, considering the film. He shook his head and brought himself back to reality. "Leigh."

"Yes?"

"You're crazy if you can't see he's crazy about you."

"I thought that I had a chance, but..." Everleigh shook her head. "New York proved otherwise."

"That why you've been avoiding talking to your mom and dad?"

"That would be why."

"What happened?"

"You've been with my sister a long time."

"Yeah."

"When you caught feelings for her..."

"Go ahead and ask, Leigh."

"Did you ever kiss someone else? Out of..." Everleigh ran over the texts she'd eventually looked over when she was less at 100 every time she thought about Maverick. "Confusion?"

Roman hit the brakes a little too hard at the stop light they hit. "He what?"

"Careful, Rome," Everleigh said, "baby in the back."

"What the hell is wrong with him?"

"It's fine," Everleigh said. "Growing up with... never mind."

"Say what you've gotta say."

"You know, Florence always made sure I felt second place," Everleigh said. She looked at the ice pack that Lennon had sent her home with. "I shouldn't have gotten used to feeling first."

Roman stayed quiet for a moment. Like Everleigh should've.

"Please don't tell her I said that. I already know she hates me."

"You know, you stopped sending postcards." Roman tapped his fingers on the steering wheel when he drove again. "'Bout two years in."

"What?"

"You used to send postcards from all the new places you were visiting," Roman said. "When you first started out at your job. Your first trip was New York. And you wrote about how one day you might want to live there."

"Did I?" Everleigh asked. "Embarrassing."

"No, not at all." Roman shook his head. "Florence used to light up when they arrived. Read them at the breakfast table. She still has this little photo album where she keeps all of them. Sometimes I catch her reading it when she has a moment to breathe. Same smile that she had when they arrived on her face."

"I didn't think you guys read those. Florence never said..." Everleigh trailed off. What was there to say, really?

"Your sister loves you, you know," Roman said. "And it's sad that I have to tell you that."

"Why doesn't she tell me anything?" Everleigh asked. "You guys got engaged, and she wasn't going to tell me. Went nine months without telling me about Navi."

"Oh, because you're just so easy to talk to, Leigh." Roman rolled his eyes. "Because you always say how busy you are. And the times you do talk to her, you look tired. And stressed. She can't tell you those things because it never feels like the right time with you."

"I'm sorry." And Everleigh meant it. Genuinely.

"Flo admires you from afar. Keeps quiet but thinks you're the greatest thing..." Roman said. "Always tells me how proud she is of her kid sister."

"I'm not a kid."

"You're 11 years younger than her, I think you've earned the kid sister title."

"I wish she'd tell me some of this stuff herself."

"When's the last time you came to ours for dinner, Leigh?" Roman asked. "And I mean actually ours, not your parents."

Everleigh wasn't even sure she knew where the hell they lived at the moment. And if she had the location right, she wasn't sure she could pull the specific address out of thin air.

"Kind of my point, Leigh."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're busy."

"I won't be soon."

Roman rolled his wrist to look at his watch. "Got anything the rest of the night?"

"Wallowing in self-pity."

Roman chuckled. "Care to wallow in self-pity and have dinner with your niece, sister, and coolest man in this car?"

Everleigh wrinkled her nose. "Can I just take Navster for Thai food or something instead?"

Roman stuck his tongue in his cheek, fighting a laugh. "And you wonder why Flo doesn't go out of her way to talk to you."

"Fu-huck you."

"Language."

"Can you make Thai food for dinner?"

Roman laughed. "Anything you want, Rocky."

            The drive to Roman and Florence's house was short from the clinic. (Everleigh did, in fact, know where it was.) Everleigh even offered to take Navi inside, and by the time she stepped through the threshold, Roman was handing her a set of new clothes to change into. She was pretty sure they were his and not Florence's, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Leigh?" Florence ran into the front hall as Roman took Navi's car seat from Everleigh's hand. "Oh my God, what happened?"

"Long stor—oof." Everleigh grunted as Florence hugged her tightly. She managed a light embrace in return.

"Roman said you were hurt and—and I didn't know what the hell to do, so I just came home—"

"Flo, she's fine," Roman said. "Just a little shaken."

"Do you have ice?" Florence asked, pulling away and taking Everleigh's face in her hands. "My God, who did this to you—"

"Don't worry about it," Everleigh said. She took Florence's hands and lowered them.

"Are you okay?"

Everleigh hugged her sister again, buried her head in her shoulder. "I'm okay."

"Oh my God, you're concussed—"