Nice

  ---

  I period of the day, math css was going on as usual.

  "Sheldon," Mrs. Ingram excimed, stopping the css, "are you okay?" she asked, puzzled.

  Sheldon had been spag out during css, staring ahead. I had noticed this several times over the past few days, but since he always answered or tried to ahe questions asked in css, I never really paid much attention to it.

  "Yeah," Sheldon responded, fused by the suddeion.

  "Okay," Mrs. Ingram said, frowning, obviously intrigued before tinuing with the css.

  During football practice that day, the mild muscle soreness I still had and the blisters on my hands made the training a bit more challenging.

  "PJ, son, we talk in the office for a minute?" Coach Cooper said seriously, pointing to the office door.

  "Sure thing, Coach," I replied, walking behind him. At that moment, a chorus among my teammates began to grow. "What?" I asked, exg, fortunately quieting the teenagers.

  As I ehe coaches' office, Coach Cooper seemed worried while talking with Coach Wilkins.

  "Sir?" I asked, knog on the door frame.

  "Son, is something b you?" Coach Cooper asked nervously, for some strange reason, slowly leaning against the er of his desk, repeatedly toug his fiips together.

  "What? No," I quickly responded, puzzled by the question.

  "It's just, you know, yame," Coach said, tilting his head slightly, "was a little bit off, you fumbled the ball a couple of times."

  "Oh, that," I said, embarrassed, immediately uanding the coach's . "It's nothing like that, Coach, it's just that I may have overtrained yesterday," I added, showing the man my hands.

  "Oh," Coach Cooper said, smiling, obviously relieved. "Just blisters, blisters," he repeated cheerfully to Coach Wilkins, who nodded, also relieved.

  "Yeah, sorry about that," I said, more embarrassed, seeing the plete relief owo coaches' faces.

  "Oh no, it's fine, son," Coach Cooper said, ughing lightly. "But how quickly do you think you'll be back to 100 pert? You know the game is ing up, right?" he added nervously again.

  "Yeah, a couple more days, and my hands will be as good as new. Don't worry about it," I assured the coach.

  "Well, thank God for that. We really need your arm, son," Coach Cooper said seriously, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Go hit the showers."

  At the hospital, after school, when I arrived at the diagnostic lounge, only Cameron was w on what seemed like some charts. "PJ," the doctor said, smiling cheerfully.

  "Hey, Cameron," I said, smiling at the woman as I hung up my things where I always leave them. "How did the surgery go, do you know?" I asked seriously.

  "Oh yeah, I scrubbed in this m, it went really well. Although Bergin retty upset about the ethanol," Cameron expined. "She's going to be fine, but she's going to need some chemotherapy."

  "Good, that's good. And what about the copper accumution?"

  "The treatment should start showis tomorrow or in a couple of days," Cameron responded, smiling broadly.

  "That's good. By the end of this week, she'll be home with Luke," I said, relieved for the little family. "You know, I found out he's a cssmate of my sister at school," I added, amused.

  "Oh, so that's why he 't look you in the eyes. House really wao know the reason," Cameron said, amused.

  "Uh, then I'm going tet that I found out why," I said excitedly, realizing I had a way to tease House, making Cameron shake her head and ugh softly.

  "By the way," Cameron said seriously, losing her smile. "Sometimes, because of the way you behave and how House treats you, I fet how impressive it is what you do at ye. That was an impressive diagnosis, you should really be proud of yourself."

  "I just read a lot," I admitted, embarrassed.

  "Oh, e on, we all do that, read books," Cameron expined, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "But to do what you and House do... that 't be learned just by reading books, at least irely," she added, smiling slightly. "So, drop the modesty and learn to accept pliments," she added sarcastically.

  "You're right, thanks," I responded after a moment.

  "I know I'm right," Cameron said proudly.

  "Hey, Cameron, do you have the results of the uh—" Before I could respond to the kind doctor, Chase came in, ied in the papers he had in his hands, stopping when he saw me.

  "Well, I'm going to the skills b," I said, realizing the atmosphere in the room had bee quite unfortable as I walked out of the room.

  "No, PJ, wait," Chase said with some difficulty. "I just wao say I'm sorry. I was an ass to you, and you were right. I was just projeg someone I used to know onto Mrs. Palemero."

  Cameron, who seemed nervous about the situation, slowly stood up from her pce.

  "It's fine," I said slowly.

  "No, it's not. You're a teenager, a really smart one, but just a teenager, and it wasn't my job to treat you the way I did with Sister Augustine. My job was to teach you how to deal with the situation, and I didn't live up to it," Chase admitted, seemingly disappointed in himself.

  "It's not really your job," I murmured.

  "It's not, but since you're the future of medie," he said exaggeratedly, "you'd better be well-trained," he added pyfully. "Just wao say I'm sorry," he added seriously after a moment.

  "Okay," I said, nodding calmly.

  "Great, are we fine?" Chase asked, relieved, raising his hand for a handshake.

  "Sure," I replied, shaking the doctor's hand.

  "No way that's enough," Cameron excimed, seemingly upset. "Just one 'I'm sorry,' and that's enough?" she asked, exasperated.

  "Well, yeah," I said, not uanding her incredulity.

  "We're men; this is how we solve things between us. I mean, we punch each other once or twice, and then we're fine. In a better sario, we just say we're sorry, like this," Chase expined ironically.

  "Well, I almost broke your wrist," I said, amused.

  "Right," Chase said, remembering. "That was a great move, by the way. I was distracted, though," he added, surprised.

  "No, you weren't," I decred, amused.

  "This is so unfair," Cameron excimed, annoyed, as she furiously walked out of the room.

  "What's wrong with her?" Chase asked, intrigued.

  "No clue," I replied, equally intrigued. She seemed upset about the way Chase and I resolved the situation.

  "That's a first, you genius kid," Chase decred sarcastically. "Well, I'm gd we solved this; you're a great guy," he said, kindly patting my shoulder.

  Genius kid?

  "You too, and now at least I'm two out of three," I said triumphantly.

  "Oh, don't worry about Foreman. He's just really proud," the now friendly doctor assured me.

  "Yeah, I see that," I said sarcastically.

  "I could have freed my hand," Chase decred after a few seds.

  "Yeah, sure," I said sarcastically.

  "I really could," Chase said, slightly offended.

  "Keep telling yourself that," I decred, teasing the doctor. I could keep Tim in a hold for minutes if I wanted, and he was basically three times Chase's size.

  Although I had po go to the skills b to tinue practig, House, who still owed several ic hours despite all the time we had been there in the past weeks, dragged me along to send home a lot of css oients. Unfortunately, no oeresting... until a patient with hiccups came in, for some reason, hitting himself.

  "Maybe if he does it crosswise, first with the left and then with the right," House said while I preteo take notes.

  "Maybe upside down. I read an iing study about it," I said, making House nod stiffly, seemingly trying to avoid smiling.

  A moment ter, following my suggestion, the man y down on the bed, letting his head hang off the edge, keeping the rhythm of the hits. Surprisingly, after a couple of hits, his hiccups suddenly stopped.

  "Wow, that actually worked," the man said, surprised, his face flushed and slightly swollen. "Thank you so much," he added excitedly, shaking House's hand emphatically and then mine.

  "Oh, o thank us," House said, putting his hand on his chest with absolute false humility. "But, if it happens again, you really should e back here. No matter what time it is, I'll make sure to e in," he added emphatically, making the man nod, obviously grateful for House's 'i' in his health.

  "I feel bad for the man," I said to House as we watched the patient leave the ic. House was smiling like I had never seen him smile before. "I really hope he never gets sick with anything more serious than hiccups."

  "Yeah, what would happen if he got a stomafe," House said, amused.

  The rest of the day, when House released me from the ic, I returo the skills b, where I practiced and studied surgical videos for the rest of the day.

  That day, I arrived several minutes before the training with Case started, even before Tim arrived, which

  had never happened before.

  The day everythi normally. After the daily run with Gabe and the first periods of css, having a couple of books from the school library that I o return, during lund after enduring the always awkward iion with Miss Huts, like the st time I was in the library, I found Tam and Sheldon at one of the tables.

  "PJ Dun, my friend," Tam said excitedly, immediately upon seeing me approach their table, putting down the chopsticks he was using to eat his food.

  "Tam, just PJ, remember?" I asked, smiling at the excited boy.

  "I 't do that," Tam decred, smiling strangely, proud.

  "Okay," I said slowly, not really uanding the reason behind his statement. "What are you reading, Sheldon?" I asked, fog my attention on my other friend present, seeing a small red book that didn't seem academic, like something Sheldon would read.

  "I've decided to learn self-defense," Sheldon said formally, showihe cover of the book.

  The cover was of a martial artist doing a perfect roundhouse kick.

  "From a book?" I asked with some sarcasm.

  "Well, yeah," Sheldon said immediately, as if it were obvious. "It's a great book about Jiu-Jitsu. How else could I learn some form of self-defense?"

  "You're absolutely right," I said, nodding slowly, with a bit of sarcasm. "But why do you want to learn self-defense?" I asked seriously as I took the seat o my small friend. "Is someone messing with you?"

  My question obviously surprised Sheldon, and ially, Tam as well. It was difficult for someo school to mess with either of them, because from what I've heard, whenever something like that happened, either of them would shield themselves with the excuse of having the prote of the football team.

  "Yes," Sheldon responded after a few seds, with his inability to lie.

  "Who?" Tam asked nervously, snatg the question from me.

  "I'd rather not talk about it," Sheldon responded, strangely embarrassed, and for some reason, making Tam even more nervous.

  "Is it someone from school?" I asked calmly. I doubted that a school could mess with Sheldon without at least An knowing about it, but if somehow it had escaped my calm friend's knowledge, I would have to pay more attention to Sheldon.

  "No, it's not happening at school," Sheldon quickly respohis time immediately relieving Tam.

  I get it, he was scared of anyone daring to mess with Sheldon, even knowing he rotected.'

  "Look, Sheldon, I 't help you if you don't ask for help. There's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of," I said seriously.

  "I know, thanks, PJ," Sheldon said, nodding seriously. "But I'd like to try to solve it on my own. I think it will be a great learning opportunity," he decred excitedly.

  "Okay, as you wish," I said after waiting a few seds for the boy to rethink his response, "if you want some advi Jiu-Jitsu, maybe I help you. I'm not an expert, but I definitely have more experiehan you."

  "Of course you do," Tam said, smiliedly. "Everyoalked about the party where you knocked out Josh Bradford. I wish I had seen that; I was there too."

  "Yes, Tam, but that was just a punot Jiu-Jitsu."

  "But a really cool punch," Tam said again, more excited than he should be.

  "Just the book is more than enough. Besides, your clear physical superiority wouldn't help me in this specific case, so thanks, but no thanks," Sheldon replied formally, as always.

  "Well, if you need anything, just let me know, okay, buddy?" I said, making Sheldon nod seriously. "See you ter, Tam," I added, also saying goodbye to my Vietnamese friend.

  "Sure thing, PJ Dun, my friend. If I ever need anything, I'll let you know too," Tam said pletely ily, smiling broadly.

  "Good," I said, nodding and trying not to ugh before walking out of the library, avoiding looking in Miss Huts' dire.

  The way she smiled at me really made me unpleasantly nervous.

  When I returo the cafeteria, my friends were in a heated argument about some kind of motorcycle on a magazine page.

  "The Yamaha Sportbike is definitely way better than the Harley. In fact, any sportbike is perfectly better than a cruiser," David practically shouted, supported by Brock beside him.

  "No, it's not," Geie said, offended. "Oh, PJ, e here. Finally, someone on my side. A want to get involved in this," he said, draggio his side as I arrived.

  Leaning in slightly, I saw An shaking his head subtly. "Sure, Geie, what's up?" I asked.

  "Tell them how the Harley is much better than any other motorcycle," he said proudly, relieved to have someone on his side.

  "The Harley is much better than any other motorcycle," I repeated after my friend.

  "Do you even know what a Harley or a Yamaha is?" Brock asked arrogantly, obviously imagining what my answer would be.

  "Yeah... no, I don't," I replied slowly, watg as Geie lost any fidence he had gained from my support.

  "e on, you have a great car. How is it possible that you have no idea about motorcycles?" Geie asked, exasperated.

  "Well, my car has four wheels for starters," I responded sarcastically.

  "Don't tell me you've hought about buying a motorcycle. Yoing to be a doctor—hell, you already are one—and yoing to have like, a lot of money," David said, annoyed. "Do you really know nothing about bikes?"

  "There are many things I have no idea about," I admitted, and surprisingly, my friends seemed especially incredulous. "What? I'm human, not perfect."

  "Oh, shut up," Brock excimed, offended, sarcastically smiling.

  "Hey, Porker, e sit with us. What do you have for lunch?" Behind us, the two guys, Michael Johnson and David Smith, said, surprising Geie and me. An didn't react at all as he tinued eating his lunch.

  "Hey, guys," Brock said, his smile fading for a moment before returning, obviously with a fake smile, slightly nervous.

  "Yeah, 'hey,'" one of the two hooligans said, looking arrogantly at the rest of the table. "e on, Porker."

  "His name is Brock," Geie said, frowning, gathering all the ce he had.

  "Do you need your boyfriend to defend you, Porker?" one of the two idiots asked, emphasizing the insult.

  "Hey—" I stood up immediately being followed only by An.

  "e on, guys, stop fug with me," Brock quickly interrupted me. "I'll stay here to eat my lunch. I'll hang with you ter, fine?" my friend said with a certain degree of nervousness.

  "Yeah, fine, Porker," one of the two hooligans arrogantly nodded, along with his friend, studying me while pletely ign An, who was somehow already sitting again.

  "See you ter, Porker," the other idiot said, elbowing his friend as they walked away from our table, ughing obnoxiously.

  "e on, Brock," Geie said, surprisingly mature and disappointed.

  "What? They're a bit rough, but they're my friends," Brock quickly said defensively. "The Yamaha is way better," he added, obviously not wanting to tihe topic.

  At the end of the school day in the parking lot, befetting into my car, I saw Brock walking with the two hooligans toward the school's field. The two idiots were ughing, pushing each other, even shoving Brock, who ughed falsely.

  On the school field, the cheerleading team ractig.

  At the hospital, remembering what both Dr. Cuddy and the uy president had promised me days ago, I headed to the surgery wing.

  "I knew you'd e eventually. I bet Fryday that it would be this month," the head nurse of the surgery wing, an older woman named Nurse Alison, said excitedly. "Ever since Dr. Cuddy informed us that you might e and that you had observer privileges, I knew I'd see you in my wing."

  "I'm gd you won, what ten dolrs?" I asked pyfully.

  "Fifty," the nurse said, winking.

  "Sounds like I get a juice from the cafeteria," I said, smiling at the woman, amused.

  "Of course you , sugar," the woman said, smiling sweetly and squeezing my arm. "So, what surgery do you want to watch? We have OR one and two preparing for an appeomy and, uh, a circumcision," the woman said cheerfully.

  "Yeah, I think the appy is calling me more," I murmured.

  "Of course it is. You men and your fears about... your things," she said sarcastically, gesturing vaguely toward my genital area. "You would have gotten along well with Dr. Robbins. She's an incredible teacher."

  "Thanks, Alison, but I don't see myself being a urologist in the near future. Maybe someday I'll ge my mind," I said calmly.

  "Obviously, you'd think that," the woman said, squeezing my arm and smiling. "You're a hot shot. Yoing into cardio, ortho, or trauma—yeah, trauma, defirauma," she added, nodding slowly with narrowed eyes.

  "I don't know yet," I said, amused. "In fact, I don't even know if I want to be a surgeon. I'm just here to learn, for now."

  "I reize surgical material when I see it," the woman said, ign my words and walking fidently. "e o's find your teacher for today."

  Following the woman, we arrived at a break room where several doctors were quietly resting. "Dr. Bergin."

  "Yeah, nurse?" one of the doctors asked, relutly pulling his attention away from a magazine.

  "I have another brilliant mind for your OR," Nurse Alison said, pg her hand on my shoulder.

  Frowning, the doctor studied me. "And this is?" he asked slowly, with little enthusiasm.

  "PJ Dun... sir," I said, notig the doctor's eyes widen slightly as he seemed tnize my name.

  "Ah, House junior. So I'm the lucky one who has to put up with you for your first OR observation," the doctor decred, leaning ba his seat.

  "I assure you, Doctor, that the only thing PJ has in on with House is his medical talent," Nurse Alison said proudly, winking at me.

  "Ah, perfect, 'medical talent' certified by a nurse," Dr. Bergin said ironically to the other doctors present, who didn't react much to his words.

  Yes, this was exactly how I remembered doctors.

  Before I could say anything, Alison stopped me, smiling kindly.

  "Well, I suppose I'll have to check that for myself. That's all, hank you," the doctor said, reopening his magazine.

  "Good luck," Alison said, giving me a one-armed hug.

  "Thanks," I said as the kind womahe room, even though I really wasn't going to do anything.

  "So, House junior, do I o have someoeach you the hygiene procedures to enter my OR?" Dr. Bergin asked, not moving his attention from his magazine.

  "No, sir, and my name is PJ," I crified.

  "Good," the doctor said disiedly, with no iion of addressing my name. "What are you waiting for?" he asked after a moment, slightly gng up from his magazine.

  "Sorry?" I asked, fused.

  "Just because all the big shots at the hospital and the uy think you're special doesn't mean I'll treat you like you are," the doctor said seriously. "If you enter my OR to observe, I will make sure to ask you questions. You have ten mio catch up. I appreciate the Socratic method."

  I retty sure that if I talked to Dr. Cuddy, the doctor would be forced to treat me like a king... but I'm much better than that.

  "Got it," I said calmly, smiling. "I just o read the patient's chart."

  "Just the patient's chart," Dr. Bergin said, raising his eyebrows, obviously skeptical. "Suit yourself," he added, lifting a file but not without first removing some pages from it.

  Taking the offered chart, I began to read it, taking a seat on one of the free chairs in the room. After a few seds of reading the chart, I could feel the doctors staring at me, even whispering among themselves, making me immediately feel like I was ba high school—unpleasant.

  "It's time, ready or not," Dr. Bergin said, standing up with a big sigh. "Did you find the reading amusing?" the man asked sarcastically. "House junior, tell me why my appeomy isn't an emergency surgery," he asked again, emphasizing the st part before I could respond to the first question.

  I quickly noticed that the pages the man had removed from the chart were the notes from the doctors responsible for the patient. I only had the raw data without the ents.

  "All signs point to a subacute appendicitis," I replied.

  "The signs?" the doctor asked, unimpressed.

  "The patient is afebrile and in good general dition. He has tenderness on palpation in the right iliac fossa, with possible weak or absent rebound tenderness, and no marked muscle guarding," I quickly said, making the doctor raise one of his eyebrows at me.

  "Just with tha—" the man was saying.

  "In the b results, the blood t shows his white blood cells are in the upper normal range, as well as moderate rophilia, and a CRP that's not drastically elevated, indig a ic or subacute infmmatory process. Renal and liver funs are within normal limits," I quickly said, interrupting the doctor.

  "Okay, you know how to read b results—" the man was trying to press me again.

  "The abdominal ultrasound shows a visible, dited appendix with a diameter greater than six millimeters, no signifit free fluid in the abdominal cavity, and the appendix wall is thied with no clear signs of perforation," I said, interrupting him a sed time. "Lastly, the CT s firms an infmed appendix with no abscess or perforation and moderate periapendicur fat infiltration, indig ic or subacute appendicitis."

  "Correct," Dr. Bergin said after a moment of silence, speaking with difficulty. "What are we waiting for? Let's go, Anderson. Go prep the patient," he ordered seriously, making one of the doctors present stand up and leave the room, looking at me in obvious surprise as he did.

  Like that doctor, I noticed the others present were looking at me like some kind of phenomenon. It seemed there were doctors who ignored or doubted the article in the neer.

  Following the doctor out of the room, we arrived with other doctors, possibly residents, at the scrub room. "House junior scrub in, I want you close by, you're not going to touything obviously," the man said, stopping to watch me gh the process, clearly looking for any fws in my handwashing teique.

  "Oh no no, this time House junior will be in your pce," the doctor Bergin said, stopping one of the doctors from entering the OR. "If you may," he added, gesturing with his palm to the spot where the other doctor was going to stand.

  Before I k, the doctor, along with one of the nurses present, presehe case.

  "Scalpel," Dr. Bergin ordered. "Tell me, House junior, where is the inade?" he asked, holding the scalpel in his hand.

  "Depending oype of incision, but for an open iney's point and Lanz's line are used; generally, the cut is five to teimeters," I replied quickly, causing the doctor to nidly and begi.

  "Depending on the incision," the doctor repeated slowly, w on his patient.

  "It could also be a paroscopicision, using the umbilical port and auxiliary ports," I quickly respoo his unasked question.

  "Laparoscopic," Dr. Bergied, amused.

  "Well, yeah," I said, puzzled. "Dr. Grey—" I was saying.

  "Dr. Grey, Ellis Grey?" the doctor interrupted me. "Su," he ordered his assistant before returning to me. "What do you know about possibly the brightest mind of eion, one of the best surgeons possibly in history, Dr. Grey?" The man added, shaking his head in amusement.

  "A few weeks ago when I was in Boston at Dr. Donnall Thomas's house celebrating the new year, Dr. Grey told me that in a few years, all appeomies will be done paroscopically," I said, watg the man's expression ge to one of plete disbelief, trying with all my might not to show how amused I was by his silence.

  ---

  Author Thoughts:

  As always, I'm not Ameri, not a doctor, and not a fighter.

  With that said,

  I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

  Thank you for reading! :D

  PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.