Everleigh spent the next two weeks after class and clinical eating whatever meal was next at Florence and Roman's house. Nobody complained about her presence, so Everleigh continued to do it. Maybe she'd hidden a clean pair of scrubs in Navi's room, maybe she hadn't. In case of her sleeping over, of course. Roman stopped making boxing jokes about a week and a half into Everleigh bugging them for free food—she wasn't sure it was because he wanted to or because he'd simply run out of boxing jokes to make. He wasn't very impressed that Everleigh didn't know what Southpaw was and made her watch it with him over an army's worth of blueberry pancakes. He'd been even less impressed when Everleigh decided to sit there and diagnose injuries during the fight—told her she was a pain in the ass, Everleigh said "actually, that's piriformis," which resulted in Roman throwing a pancake at her. (Everleigh might've offered to watch Rush with him to make up for the terrible joke. It was decent. She still didn't know fuck all about Formula One, though. Sorry, Brendon.)

By the time her last day at clinical day arrived, Everleigh was dead exhausted. Ready for a week long hibernation that she definitely deserved. Her feet were sore and her hair was dry and her scrubs were still stiff and that felt unfair. At least the bruise was mostly faded. Just a little glimmer of purple and yellow that was only noticeable if someone was close. Which would be why any time she saw her parents, she wore a couple layers of coverup. Roman and Florence didn't snitch on her. She appreciated it.

"How are we today, nurse Everleigh?" Lennon asked.

"Doing well," Everleigh said. "And you, nurse Lennon?"

Lennon smiled. "Doin' all right."

"Good."

"Do we have lunch today?"

Everleigh held up the Tupperware Roman had packed her that morning. Leftover kung pao cauliflower and rice he'd made the night before. Delicious, really.

"Good, good," Lennon said, nodding.

It was nice that she checked, but Everleigh also appreciated that she wasn't pestering her on days where there wasn't any lunch in Everleigh's itinerary. Those days the past couple weeks had led to Lennon and Everleigh taking a walk outside for lunch and if Everleigh happened to buy lunch while they were out, that was a bonus. Some days she simply sipped sparkling raspberry lemonade and called it a day. Not the best and definitely not a meal replacement, but better than nothing, she told herself.

"Look, I don't want to be sappy—"

Everleigh pushed her bite of cauliflower to the side of her mouth. "Please don't tell me you're going to miss me. Like four other nurses have—"

"Made an impact on us, Everleigh."

"You can call me Leigh."

"Leigh," Lennon said. "And I am going to say I'll miss you. Because it's true."

"Sentimentality's for losers."

"Call me a loser, then," Lennon said, pulling a box out from behind her back and holding it out toward Everleigh as she walked toward her. Everleigh fought back the tiniest bit of laughter that Lennon had wrapped her gift in what appeared to be a tensor bandage from the supply closet. Surely she was expected to give that back after. "I think sentimentality keeps you grounded."

"I'm a flight attendant," Everleigh said, "I fly. Constantly."

"I will return this, girlypop," Lennon said, "don't think I won't. Don't be a shit."

Everleigh smiled as she ate another bite of lunch.

"Gonna take it or not?"

"Now?"

"Oh, you better not get used to a lunch break." Lennon laughed. (Everleigh elected not to correct her that she hadn't started her shift yet.) "I'm not standing here all day, baby."

Everleigh held her hand out. "Are you sure? You didn't have to—"

"For the love of God—"

"I'm opening it—" Everleigh stuck her fork in her mouth so it was easier to unravel the tensor. "God."

"Hurry up, Leigh." Lennon tapped her foot. Loudly.

"I'm going." Everleigh pulled the top off the box. Seeing what was inside nearly made her drop it on the floor, she slammed the lid back. "Are you kidding?"

Lennon smiled at Everleigh's gaping in her direction.

Everleigh opened the box again. Traced down the bell and chest piece, cool metal brushing against her fingers. Ran her fingers along the tubing of a new stethoscope. Along the rubber was a small printing of "we believe in you" that made her want to cry. Placing the box onto the lunch table, Everleigh rose to her feet. Walked a couple steps forward to Lennon and wrapped her arms around her. Everleigh wasn't a hugger, but that day she was.

"It's nothing fancy," Lennon said. "But it's a good one to start with."

"Thank you."

"Do good, okay?"

"I'll try."

"You've grown more than anyone I've seen. And taken more than your fair share of work and more. Keep doing great." Lennon rubbed between Everleigh's shoulder blades. "Keep being great. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you for all your help," Everleigh said. "I couldn't have done this last couple weeks without you."

"You absolutely could've." Lennon pulled away from Everleigh. "But I appreciate the sentiment... even if it's for losers."

Everleigh laughed. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Lennon smiled. "That's your thing."

"Calling people losers?"

"Shielding yourself. I get it."

"... Sorry."

"You're amazing. And you're gonna be the reason a lot of kids want to do this job. You know that, right?" Lennon asked. "Hard ass exterior on the outside, but you've got a heart of—"

"Everleigh?"

Everleigh turned and looked at another nurse who poked their head into the break room. "Me?"

"Know many Everleigh's?" the other nurse asked, smirking.

Everleigh felt her cheeks heat up a little. "What's up?"

"There's a patient who's requested you. Specifically."

"What the—"

"She'll do it," Lennon interjected. Before Everleigh could put her foot in her mouth. Fair. Hands found Everleigh's shoulders and gave her a small push forward. "I'll clean up your lunch, you go. I'm impressed someone knows you well enough to request you."

"I—" Everleigh didn't mean to stutter step. "What if it's—"

"They're not allowed here without a police officer present."

Everleigh let out a small breath. "Okay."

"He's in three."

Everleigh frowned. Realization dressed her face. No fucking way was Roman here to bother her at work. Fuck right off. Grabbing the stethoscope from her box, Everleigh walked past the other nurse and down the hall. She was certain anyone in reception who saw her weren't going to request her by name any time soon. Letting the tubing rest around her neck made her fight a small smile.

With the determination of a predator, Everleigh practically sprinted to the third room. She barely paused to grab the clipboard off the wall outside the room when she threw the door open.

"Roman, you cannot—" Everleigh swallowed cement. Hot water, burning her from the inside.

"Hi."

There was a time when seeing Kingston Maverick would make Everleigh's heart swell and her cheeks flush and her stomach grow some uncontrollable butterflies. She hated that now all her stomach felt was nauseous embarrassment. That her cheeks turned red with an anger she didn't even deserve to feel.

Maverick looked guilty to be sitting on a clinic bed. Tangled curls strayed from where they usually sat, like he'd just woken up—or hadn't slept. Given he probably flew from wherever the hell he was marketing his new EP, it made sense either way. Everleigh had listened to it, she'd never tell him she'd cried when she heard Paper Planes. The first time and every time she'd listened to it after that. Then she hated herself a little more for falling for Maverick in the first place. The entire Revive EP killed her a little more each time she listened to it, truthfully. Fuck. At least Maverick was wearing matching shoes that time.

"Hi."

"Can we talk?"

"You came to where I'm working to talk?"

"I—uh—" Maverick's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "Do you have a black eye?"

Everleigh didn't mean to reach her hand up to her eye. She shook the question off. "What do you want?"

Maverick held his hand up. "I, um, hurt my finger."

"And so you flew to London? Seems counterproductive." Everleigh took her stethoscope and pressed the earpieces gently into her ears. "I'm going to listen to your heart." She pulled the back of Maverick's shirt up, pressing the cold metal to his back without warming it with her mouth like she'd been taught. Cruel, she knew.

Maverick bit back something that was either a yelp or a flurry of curse words aimed at Everleigh. "Listening to my heartbeat for a thumb injury?"

Everleigh could hear Maverick's heart racing. She wasn't sure who either of them were trying to kid, really. Checking both sides of his spine, she ignored Maverick sitting a little straighter as she let his shirt fall back down and draped her stethoscope around her neck again. Everleigh made a note on her clipboard, suddenly aware of how tiny the examination room was. "Heart sounds fine."

"Need to take my blood pressure too, Meadowlark, or are we going to stop pretending we actually think my finger's hurt?"

"I actually do have to take your blood pressure because you're in here."

"Seriously?"

Everleigh took the band from the wall behind the bed he sat on, wrapped it around his bicep instead of responding. She squeezed the pump, watching the dial as it moved. Better than looking at Maverick.

"Everleigh."

"Blood pressure's fine." Everleigh wrote her notes on the sheet of paper on the clipboard again. Maybe she filled in his name, too, so she didn't have to talk to him for longer.

"Everleigh."

"I know you're not picking a tone with me when you barged into my workplace expecting me to fall at your fucking feet." Everleigh didn't look up from the notes she was taking but could imagine his expression. Softened eyes, knitted eyebrows. A similar look he gave Stevie during their argument; Everleigh simply hadn't used her hand to slap him. "Actually, how'd you even know I was here? I don't advertise it."

"I feel like it's not safe to answer that."

"Unsafe to not answer it."

"Your dad picked me up from the airport."

"He what?" Everleigh nearly dropped her clipboard when she looked up at him. "You texted my Pa?"

"You wouldn't reply to my texts."

"There was a reason for that—"

"I get it," Maverick said.

"If you got it, you wouldn't be here." Everleigh pulled a tongue depressor from a jar on the small counter tucked in the corner of the room. She held it up as she walked back. "Open."

"Is this necess—"

"Open."

Maverick rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out.

Everleigh pressed the depressor into his tongue. "Been sticking this down anyone else's throat?"

"Eberlah—"

Everleigh dropped the tongue depressor in the small trash can beside the bed Maverick sat on. "Or do you only do that when I'm there? And your friends are there?"

"I know you're mad—"

"I can't believe you texted my fucking father, are you kidding me, Maverick?"

Maverick looked taken aback. Whether it was by Everleigh being short with him—which, frankly, was not unheard of—or because she'd called him by the name she never called him by was to be determined. "I texted him to ask where you were. He offered to pick me up."

"Of course he fucking did." Everleigh rolled her eyes.

"He said you hadn't spoken to him since you got home."

"That's a fact of my life that he didn't need to tell you."

"You can be mad at me, but don't be mad at him," Maverick said. "He was trying to help."

"He needs to realize I'm 27 fucking years old and that I don't need him to try and play wingman. Especially when he doesn't know the details."

"Wingman?"

Everleigh sighed. Fought the urge to get another nurse in there to tell him what was potentially wrong with him. "What have you done to your thumb?"

"I..." Maverick frowned at her. "We both know I didn't do anything to my thumb, right?"

"I don't know that," Everleigh said. "Maybe I have to draw blood."

"Everleigh Meadowlark—"

"You know how fucking wrong it is that you're here right now, right? In a place I can't leave? Requesting me to be here when I'm trying to prove I know what I'm doing and I've only just got you out of my head anyway," Everleigh said. "You realize how fucking shitty that is to do to someone you've upset?"

"What did you want me to do? Camp outside your flat?"

"I'd like for you to go back to Gatwick and leave. Go—" Everleigh waved her hand around. "Be with Rhylan or—or whatever. You wouldn't be here if you were doing what I wanted you to do."

"I want to apologize—"

"I don't want to hear that it was a fucking accident or that you tripped and fell and she had to resuscitate you from an inch of death or whatever the hell your poetic fucking mind can come up with," Everleigh said. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to cry. "Okay? I'm done and I'll get over it. If you want to be friends you should've said that and I wouldn't be this upset with you."

"I don't—"

"I need you to go. You're taking up a room from someone who actually wants my time of day."

"I—"

"And deserves it."

Maverick pressed his lips together. The little golden suns around his pupils searched Everleigh's eyes for any sign that she was going to let him stay and plead his case. Part of her wanted to. Hearing him out would make getting over him a hell of a lot easier than it was proving to be. The other part of her wanted to slap herself for even giving his eye contact the time of day.

"Unless you're actually experiencing a hurt I can fix, you need to go."

"I... thought you could."

Everleigh could've crumbled into a pile of dust if she didn't think he'd write a fucking song about it. Something called Ashes, probably. Where he'd describe himself as Icarus and she was the sun who burned him for flying too close to her. He liked writing songs about flying now, right? Throw in a reference to the Salem witch trials here, a sprinkle of how he got lost in the Labyrinth there. She was clearly the perfect antagonist for a Grammy.

"Was any of what you said on that EP real?" Everleigh asked. "Or was it purely to sell records?"

"Are you diagnosing me as a liar?"

"I'm asking you a question."

"Does that mean you listened to it?"

"Not a good question to ask if you're trying to convince me it wasn't for profit."

"I'd rather actually talk about this rather than have you ask questions while kicking me out of the room."

"Not in a good place to make demands like that, either, if we're being realistic."

"Everleigh, I know I hurt you." Maverick looked like he genuinely meant it and Everleigh somewhat wanted to believe him. Letting go of the bitterness and embarrassment that'd been eating at her for weeks was probably better for her than holding onto it. But she was still upset. And seeing him in front of her made her remember everything from that night.

"Well spotted." Everleigh crossed her arms. "I really need you to go. I'm trying to work."

"Can we please talk about this?"

"I'm off at 12:30. Or one, or something. Not today."

"It's 12:30 now—"

"Maverick."

"You meant at night."

"You're on the ball today, wow."

"I don't even know what time zone I'm in right now, give me a break," Maverick said. The edge to his voice was probably half aimed at her and half aimed at himself.

"Give me a break, Maverick," Everleigh said. "I need you to leave so I can do my job. We can talk about this when you're not intruding on me trying to help people and when you're not enlisting the help of my father to do your dirty work for you. He's not your fucking Baby Driver."

"I know." Maverick pushed off the bed, paper crinkling with the shift. "I'm sorry."

"For being here or in general?" Everleigh said. "Both need a better apology."

"I'll go—"

"That's what I've been asking—"

"But I need you to know that every song on that EP—"

"Stop talking about your fucking EP, are you kidding me?"

"Will you listen for three seconds?"

"Not right now." Everleigh needed to set that boundary. She'd already given him too much time when he wasn't, in fact, hurt or ailing. Something told her there was probably a kid with an ear infection who deserved the bed more than Maverick did; who wasn't going to beg their case to her about kissing the wrong person who wasn't her. That's who Everleigh wanted to help at that moment. Not Kingston Maverick.

"I—okay." Maverick nodded his head. "Okay."

"Goodbye."

"Bye, Everleigh."

*

It felt fitting that after a 12 hour shift, it was raining. The moment she was in her car and backing out of the stall, she called her father. After sitting with it for that long, she was still mad at him for driving Maverick to the clinic. Her phone sat in the cupholder in her door on speaker so she could hands-free yell.

"Hello? Leigh? You okay?" Troy sounded tired. Half asleep. Good, she'd woken him up.

"Absolutely not."

"What's wrong?"

"You know exactly what's wrong."

"I take it that Kingston's apology wasn't accepted."

"I think it's a dick move that you drove him to the clinic, pa. I'll be honest with you," Everleigh said. "That was an invasion of privacy."

"He said you weren't replying to him." Troy grunted. Probably understanding that Everleigh was there to yell at him and that he wasn't getting back to sleep soon; the least he could've done was let Dawn sleep. "I thought you needed to hear him out."

"You don't get to make that decision."

"You're the one who's been ignoring us since you've gotten back from New York, Everleigh." Whoops. Full name. Wonderful. Shocking turn of events that Everleigh was going to end up cutting everyone off except her Florence and Roman. (Navi was on thin ice. Everleigh hated changing diapers.) "Kingston's at least texted me since you've been home."

"I can't believe you're taking his side on this," Everleigh said. "I'm your fucking daughter. You do know that, right?"

"What kind of question—"

"Sometimes it seems like you forget."

"Everleigh, I was trying to help you."

"I don't need your help, especially if it's about a relationship."

"That the first time you've admitted that out loud?"

Everleigh sat up a little straighter in her seat. Eyes dead ahead on the road. "That's not the point."

"Everleigh, I get that you're upset with him and with me," Troy said. "But you need to listen to him as much as he needs to listen to you."

"Pa, I get that you care," Everleigh said. "But I need to say something and I need you to listen."

"I'm listening."

"I am a grown woman." Everleigh took a deep breath as she looked around. She wished that London was as alive as New York. That there was somewhere she could just sit for hours and not have to return to her lonely flat. "I get that you're doing what you think will make me happy. But I am not a kid anymore. And you need to stop treating me like I am. This isn't a prom date, this is my life."

"I'm sorry," Troy said. "Truly. I didn't want to upset you. And I'm not taking his side of whatever fight you've had."

"You could have fooled me."

"I've never seen you laugh like you did when he came to the house for game night."

Everleigh smiled softly. Embarrassing how a single night was enough to make her react like that. A night with her family and her... Maverick. With Maverick. Not her Maverick. Just Maverick. Fuck.

(The way his eyes lit up in the living room every time Everleigh got a question right. The high fives they shared every pie piece added to their token. Everleigh's cheeks ached from hard she'd laughed throughout the night; the way Maverick would lean close and whisper what he thought the answer was in her ear if it was one of the categories he knew. How that stupid, ugly cardigan smelled like him—how Everleigh's car still smelled like orange blossom, thyme, and musk the morning after he'd been in there. How Maverick stayed the night and slept soundly and maybe he didn't mean to but he definitely had nuzzled into Everleigh in his sleep.)

"I'll talk to him again, Pa. I just need some time to think."

"You know, the car ride over was... insightful."

"I'll bite," Everleigh said. "What did he say?"

"That's interesting," Troy said. "Maybe that means you should hear him out."

"Pain in the ass."

"You had to get it from somewhere."

"I'm in the car park at home, I'm gonna go to bed. It's been a long day," Everleigh said. "I'm sorry for yelling."

"No, you're allowed to be mad," Troy said. "Was today your last clinical day?"

"Yes."

"Want to come for dinner tomorrow?"

"Can I do the day after?" Everleigh asked. "I really need to sleep."

"Whenever you're ready. Don't even call ahead, we just want to see you."

"Okay." Everleigh got out of her car, bag in hand grabbed from the passenger seat. "Good night, Pa."

"Can we stay on the phone until you're in the flat? I've always hated the look of that place." Troy quickly added, "And not because I still think you're a kid. Because you live in a shifty part of town."

"Sure." Everleigh let out a small laugh. "Whatever helps you sleep."

"How was your last day?"

Everleigh told her dad about the stethoscope Lennon had given her. The surprise visit from Maverick—despite Troy already knowing. The fact that some kid tried to flick a booger at her but she convinced them that was a terrible idea and picking one's nose was how to get cavities and have to go see the dentist. Troy laughed, listened, kept her talking while she went in the elevator and down the hall.

"And this man came in hacking, I think I'm gonna have a—Maverick?" Everleigh's eyes widened at the man sitting outside her door.

"Oop," Troy said. "Yup, sounds like you made it to your flat. Bye."

"Pa—"

"Bye."