Girls with Sharp Sticks (Girls with Sharp Sticks, #1)(9)

Once it’s placed, he smiles up at me and then grabs the warming light from the tray. He holds it against my knee so the graft can set, melting into place. The red light is hot, and it’s a bit uncomfortable.

When I wince, the doctor gives me an exaggerated sympathetic smile, and then he reaches to pluck a sugar-free lollipop off his tray. I laugh and thank him as I take it.

“So tell me about your field trip,” he says conversationally, moving the red light to seal the graft. There is a quick flash of panic in my chest.

I’m scared to tell him, afraid he’ll reprimand me. But I can’t lie. Besides, he likely knows already. I swallow hard and look down at the floor.

“We went to the Federal Flower Garden,” I start in a quiet voice, “but we had to leave early because of the rain.”

“The Federal Flower Garden is beautiful,” he says. “You always enjoy yourself there.”

I nod that I do, and Dr. Groger moves the light to another corner of my graft.

“After the Flower Garden,” I tell him, considering what I’m going to say next, “we stopped at a gas station so some of the girls could use the restroom. I was going to get candy.”

The doctor rolls his eyes, playing along like I was being mischievous. He shifts the red light again.

“And?” he asks, his voice dropping lower. He does know the rest of the story.

“There was a boy there,” I add, ashamed.

The doctor clicks off the light. He takes it from my knee and sets it back on the tray.

“What did you and this boy talk about?” he asks. He grabs the tube of silicone gel and puts some on a gauze patch, then rubs it over my knee.

“Candy, mostly,” I say. “But . . . when Guardian Bose came in and told me it was time to leave, I didn’t listen right away.” I’m humiliated by the admission.

“And why do you think you disobeyed?” he asks.

“I wanted a few more minutes in the store.”

Dr. Groger sighs. “That’s not like you, Philomena,” he says. “The girl I know would never misbehave.” His disappointed tone nearly makes me cry. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to be disrespectful,” he adds. “But it was improper for you to carry on with a stranger—especially a boy we don’t know. Guardian Bose was right to redirect you.”

I nod and tell him that I understand. And when he smiles, not angry, I’m relieved.

The doctor pats my thigh this time, and then reaches for a sparkly Band-Aid. He places it over my graft for decoration and declares that I’m still scar-free.

I hop down from the table, pulling the wrapper off the sugar-free lollipop, and stick the candy between my cheek and teeth. I watch Dr. Groger write notes in my file, pushing up his glasses every few seconds.

“Can I ask you something?” I begin quietly.

The doctor’s pencil stops. “Of course,” he says, looking at me above his glasses. “What is it?”

“Is Valentine getting impulse control therapy?” I ask. Even saying the words out loud causes a twist in my stomach, a prickle on my skin. “She misbehaved on the bus, and—”

“Valentine Wright will be just fine,” he says. “Her impulses are compromised, but a good session with Anton should cure her of that. She’ll be back to herself in no time. It’s very sweet of you to worry about her, though.”

I thank him for the compliment. However, I’m still bothered. “But the Guardian grabbed—”

“I’m aware of the incident, Philomena,” he replies, interrupting me again. “There’s no need for you to consider it any longer.”

I don’t argue, accepting that he’s right.

Dr. Groger waits a beat before closing my file and setting it inside his desk drawer. When I don’t say anything else, he sighs as if he was being too harsh. He walks out from behind his desk.

“Guardian Bose may be a bit overzealous at times,” the doctor admits, glancing at my Band-Aid. “I will speak to him. But he knows what’s best for you—all of you. You should respect that.”

The lollipop has gone sour in my mouth. I’ve never been in trouble before; I’ve never disappointed the doctor. I promise to do better. “I won’t misbehave again,” I assure him.

“Good.” Dr. Groger takes off his glasses and slips them into the front pocket of his shirt. He looks me up and down. “That’s very good, Philomena.”

He walks me to the door, his hand on the small of my back. And just before I leave, I pause long enough to thank him for his guidance.





IA Report Card Student’s Name: Philomena Rhodes Year: 2 Q1

Metrics

A – Superior, B – Above average, C – Average, D – Below average, E – Poor, F – Failure Conduct

Cooperative





A




Good listener





A




Manners and poise





A




Beauty





A




Compliance





A




Academics

Plant Design and Development