Clash Of Cultures

20. Men With Tattoos

Noor

A sweat broke out on my forehead as I loaded the medical mobile unit with boxes of bike helmets that had been donated to us by a local bike shop. The mobile unit was basically a refurbished school bus. Today it was going to transport some of us pediatric residents to the county fair, where we were going to participate in a child and adolescent safety booth at the fair as part of our residency's community outreach efforts.

Kimberly and I had paired up to hold a demonstration on how to wear bike helmets properly. And Emily and Scott were going to talk about car seat safety. Kimberly was supposed to help me load the boxes, but instead she was standing in the corner of the loading dock laughing with Scott. The two of them had been spending a lot of time together lately, and it was hard to ignore them sitting together in conferences, constantly giggling at each other's jokes.

I bet something is going on between these two! Good for them.

I smiled at my two friends and then decided to step out of the loading dock to get some fresh air. The cool spring breeze felt nice on on my warm face, and I took a deep breath in, trying not to think of my own love life. Or complete lack thereof, I should say. Because I could say with quite certainty there was no romantic love, at least for now, in my relationship with Omar. 

And on the other hand...

But then I stopped myself. There was no 'on the other hand', there was just Omar and his proposal, however awkward. Or there was me being alone and single, not that I had a problem with that. 

Several minutes later I was still lost in my thoughts, when I felt a pat on my back and a familiar high-pitched voice in my ear.

"Why did you disappear?", Kimberly asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Just wanted to give you and Scott some space", I could help chuckling at the redness that creeped into her cheeks, "What is going on between you two?"

"Nothing...", Kimberly answered coyly.

"I need details, lady!", I wasn't going to let her go easily, especially after her constant prodding about Omar and Sal.

Suddenly she looked past me. Her eyes brightened and a broad smile came over her face.

"Well, well, well...look who the cat dragged in!"

"Shut up Kim...", a deep voice replied to her.

I swung around to see Sal walking down the sidewalk. He had a backpack swung over one shoulder and his other hand was tucked in to his jean's front pocket. His hair was tousled and the scruff on his face more obvious than usual. He looked like hadn't slept in days.

"Are you joining us today?", Kimberly asked Sal.

Sal scowled at her in return, "Do you have a problem with that?"

She frowned back at him and told him to lose the attitude. "We're going to provide a service to the kids, not scare them off!"

He ignored her and headed into the loading dock. Kimberly rolled her eyes at him and I was just glad I had kept quiet. I didn't know what prompted him to join us, but I had every intention of staying out of his way. Especially, when he was in one of his depressive, gloomy moods. 

Our driver for the trip, Mr. Flores, helped us load the rest of the supplies and we piled in to the mobile unit. Sal went straight to the back of the bus, without a word or eye contact with anyone, while the rest of us interns sat up front.

Even though I tried to not look back, I couldn't help glancing at Sal, who was slouched forward in his seat, wearing his headphones, with his face was buried in his hands.