Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“Let me see,” she said as she bent to inspect Tristan’s knee then sucked in a harsh breath. “Oh, that’s a bad one.” She proceeded to pull out various accoutrements to clean the wound, wiping away the blood before sealing it all up with a blue plaster dotted with yellow smiley faces. “I’m going to be a doctor when I grow up,” she’d announced confidently when she was done, pleased with her handiwork, and I pretty much fell in love right then and there. There was something about how sure of herself she’d been, how capable, that had my nine-year-old heart thumping that much harder. Her patching up Tristan’s wound also meant that Mam wasn’t going to chew me out for not looking after him that day.
“Do you still want to be a doctor?” I asked randomly, dragging my mind back to the present. Milly and I walked through the dairy aisle at the supermarket, and I’d insisted on carrying the basket for her. She dropped a block of cheddar into it then peered up at me in surprise.
“How do you know that?”
A soft smile touched my lips. “You helped my brother when he scraped his knee in primary school one time. I don’t think I’d ever been more impressed by anyone when you produced a first-aid kit from your school bag.”
“Oh, my goodness, I’d completely forgotten about that kit.” She cast me an embarrassed grin. “When I was eight, I asked for it as one of my birthday presents. I’d always been obsessed with making people better when they were sick or injured. I think I fancied myself the schoolyard medic that year. When my little sister, Donna, got an ear infection at age six, I insisted on being the one to administer her medication and eardrops each day. Then when she recovered, I pronounced her all better and said that she could thank Doctor Milly for her excellent care and medical treatment.” She chuckled.
“That’s adorable.”
Milly flushed before focusing on the selection in front of her, not looking at me as she continued, “Well, to answer your question, I do still want to study medicine, but I need to get enough points next year to qualify for the course. I might not make the cut.”
“I’m sure you can achieve whatever you set your mind to,” I told her confidently.
“Thanks,” she replied softly, and I found myself admiring her long, poker straight hair that hung in a river down her back. I’d never seen a girl with hair as long as Milly’s.
“What is it?” she asked, noticing my attention as we turned into the next aisle.
“Your hair,” I replied on instinct, my throat scratchy. I’d had a couple girlfriends over the years and had also slept with a few who weren’t my girlfriend, but I’d never felt nervous like this before. There was something about Milly. I wanted her approval. Every day as I drove by her walking home from school, I’d been seized with the urge to stop and offer her a lift. The only thing preventing me was the worry of coming across as a creep. Come take a ride in my car, pretty girl. Not a good look. Then yesterday’s unusually bad weather had offered me the perfect opportunity, and I’d snatched it with both hands.
Now, I was awkwardly trying to compliment her hair and rapidly sliding back into creep territory.
“My hair?” she questioned, eyebrows rising in curiosity.
I cleared my throat. “It’s very long.”
“Oh. Right, yeah.” She fingered the silky strands. “I only ever get it trimmed so it stays long. My Aunt Nell says I should get it cut shorter, that it would look much better that way, but I like it how it is.”
“I like it, too. Your aunt doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
That won me a smile as she continued walking along the aisle. “Thank you,” she murmured.
A minute or two went by as Milly quietly shopped, and I played my role of basket carrier. When she was done, we approached the register and joined the queue.
Okay, Derek, it’s now or never. Shoot your shot.
“So,” I began, turning to her, my gaze travelling over her delicate profile and soft lips. “We’re having a party at my house tomorrow night. Want to come?”
I watched her throat move as she swallowed and blinked up at me. “Oh. A party?”
“Yeah, nothing too crazy. Just me, my siblings, and a couple of our friends. I’d love for you to be there.”
She nodded, but then her brow crinkled. “I can’t. My parents are going out, so I have to stay in and watch my sisters.”
“How old are they”
“Twelve and fourteen,” Milly answered as she began unloading the items from the basket. Okay, so they were definitely too young for me to suggest bringing them along. Disappointment swept in.
“Ah, well, maybe next time.”