#Superfan by Jae Hood Page B

don’t open my eyes. Not until the molasses-thick voice of the doctor says my name. My eyes flutter open and meet those of Dr. Norris, or so his white lab coat claims. Dr. Norris wheels a short stool close to my bed and takes a seat.
    “Ms. Hannah, I’m Dr. Norris, one of the attending physicians.” He briefly glances at my wardrobe and back to the clipboard in his hand.
    I look down at my slinky dress, cringing at the sight of a long rip just below where my prized possession hides underneath a pair of silky drawers. My legs are dirty and scraped from the sidewalk. Dried blood cakes my forehead, making my skin tight and itchy. Resting on Toothless’ coat has left me smelling like cheap beer and off-brand cigarettes. Madi’s heels are dirty and scuffed up the sides, aging the new leather. I not-so-discreetly sniff my jacket. Toothless’ dollar store cologne swarms around me. And I’ve been crying, so I know my thick, smokey eye makeup has melted down my cheeks, giving me a sorrowful raccoon appearance.
    Great, I look and smell like a ho.
    “I’m not a prostitute, I swear.”
    Dr. Norris blinks. “I didn’t—I wasn’t assuming—”
    “Just do your tests, okay? And let me go home.” My voice grows quiet, and those dumb tears threaten to make an appearance again. Nearly dying has turned me into an emotional basketcase, laughing one minute, crying the next.
    Dr. Norris pulls out a pen light and blinds me with it, his deep voice directing me on where to look. Once he’s satisfied with whatever he finds or doesn’t find, he drops the pen light into the front pocket of his jacket and asks me the strangest questions. What is today’s date? What time of the day is it? What is my full name? Do I know where I am? Do I know who I am? After he’s satisfied with my answers, he sends me off to have a battery of tests.
    A little while after getting my noggin scanned, Dr. Norris re-enters the room. He flips through a stack of stapled papers, a big grin on his face. He has nice teeth. White and straight. Someone paid good money for those teeth because no one has real teeth that pretty.
    “Great news,” he says, sitting on his stool.
    “I have a brain and it’s somewhat functional?”
    Dr. Norris chuckles, his gaze remaining on my face a beat too long. Some poor nurse came in a few minutes prior and helped clean the ruined makeup from my face and the dirt from the superficial wounds on my legs. I probably don’t look much better, but compared to earlier I feel like a new Alex.
    “There are no signs of any internal damage, but considering you have that head injury,” he says, nodding at my bandage, “I’ll need someone to look after you tonight. If you have any nausea, vomiting, loss of consciousness, an unresolved headache, you’ll need to return to the emergency room immediately.”
    “But I thought my CT scan came back clear.” I shake my head. “Or negative. Whatever y’all call it.”
    Dr. Norris nods. “It did, but I’ve seen a brain bleed not show up on a CT scan for hours, and sometimes it can even take days to show up. There’s always a chance when a head injury is involved. Although I believe you’ll be fine, we shouldn’t take that risk. Do you have a significant other at home? Someone who can be around in case you need to return to the hospital?”
    His voice is softer on the end. Shy. It’s kind of cute, or would be if I didn’t feel as though I’d been shot in the head.
    “Nope, no roommate, no boyfriend, no husband.” I fiddle with the hospital band around my wrist.
    “Parents? Siblings?”
    Guilt consumes me. “Yes to both, but they all live hours away.”
    Dr. Norris nods. “Normally I don’t admit a patient I feel is ready for discharge, but under the circumstances …” His voice drifts away.
    Under the circumstances. What circumstances? That I’m a total loser because I have no man and no family around to help me out?
    “I have a friend. Madi. I was supposed to meet her