He Ranked Her First, I Chose Myself novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: All In

Fitz hands Maura the napkin Judson left behind, Maura overhears Tatum say Boston is locked, and when she warns Judson in front of the class he laughs and says if Denver fails, she poisoned it.

I watched the story four times.

On the fifth, Jodie took my phone and put it in the freezer.

"Cold storage," she said. "You can have it back when you're a better person."

"I'm the injured party."

"Injured people don't watch the injury on a loop."

I slept three hours on the couch, because the bedroom still smelled like his cologne.

At noon I walked back to Mahaffey's.

I'd left my blood pressure cuff on the shelf in the back room.

That was the reason I gave myself.

In daylight the bar looked smaller.

The green door was propped open with a bucket.

Two old men were watching a curling match on the TV over the register.

Fitz was behind the bar with his sleeves pushed up, cutting limes.

He looked up when I came in.

He didn't smile the bar smile.

He smiled a smaller one.

"Doc."

"Still not a doctor."

"You will be in, what, three weeks?"

"Match Day's in three weeks. Doctor's in May."

"I'll practice saying it."

He put the knife down and wiped his hands.

"You okay?"

"Define okay."

"Upright. Wearing shoes. Not crying in my bathroom."

"Two out of three."

"Which two?"

"I'm not telling you."

He reached under the bar and came up with something folded in a clean paper towel.

He set it on the wood in front of me.

"Found this on the party room floor at closing," he said. "Figured it was yours more than it was his."

I unfolded it.

It was the napkin from the photo.

ALL IN, in big black marker letters.

Underneath, in Judson's slanted handwriting, three lines.

DENVER.

SALT LAKE.

PORTLAND.

Not one of them was in Philadelphia.

There was a beer ring on the corner.

I stared at it until the letters went soft.

"You want me to throw it out?" Fitz said.

"No."

I folded it back into the paper towel and put it in the inside pocket of my coat.

"Thank you."

"For a napkin?"

"For not asking."

He picked the knife back up.

"I'm asking later," he said. "I'm just not asking now."

"Fair."

"Also, the welder came by at ten. Wanted to show you his thumb. I told him you'd be in Wednesday. He said to tell you it doesn't hurt and he's lying."

"He's absolutely lying."

"That's what I told him."

I went down the hallway to get my cuff.

The party room door was half open.

Somebody was inside.

Tatum Kirby was sitting on the edge of the big table in a white blazer, scrolling with one thumb.

There was a pink scarf on the chair beside her.

She'd come back for it.

Her phone buzzed and she answered it with a voice I'd never heard her use at school.

Low. Bored.

"Hey, babe. No, I'm fine. I'm getting my scarf."

She laughed.

"Oh my God, he's fine too. He thinks we're going to Denver together. He's so cute about it."

I stopped walking.

"Denver was never on my list. Boston's locked. One, two and three, all Boston. I'm going to be ten minutes from your apartment."

She laughed again.

"No, I'm not telling him. Why would I tell him? His dad's still writing my letter for the lab award. I'll tell him after Match Day."

I backed up three steps.

I walked the long way to the back room, through the kitchen, past the dish sink.

My hands were shaking when I picked up the cuff.

It wasn't for me.

That was the funny part.

It wasn't for me at all.

The fourth-year lounge was in the basement of the main building.

It had four couches, a broken espresso machine and a corkboard full of apartment listings.

At three o'clock it had about twenty of my classmates in it, all of them still hungover from rank night.

Judson was on the center couch.

He had the same shirt on.

Two of his friends from the party room were with him.

When I came in, the room went quiet.

Judson stood up.

"Maura. Hey. Can we talk later? Privately?"

"No," I said. "This one's quick."

I kept my voice level.

"I was at Mahaffey's an hour ago. Tatum was on the phone with her boyfriend. Her list is all Boston. She never ranked Denver."

Somebody behind me said, "Oh, damn."

Judson looked at me.

Then he started to laugh.

Not the nervous laugh.

The big one, head back, the one he used when a patient's family thanked him for something I'd done.

"Wow," he said. "Wow. Okay."

"I heard her say it."

"You heard her say it." He looked around at the room. "Guys. She broke up with me last night. Today she's following Tatum into bathrooms."

A few people laughed with him.

Not many.

"I'm telling you because nobody else will," I said. "Ask her."

"I don't need to ask her. I know where she ranked." He stepped closer. "You know what this is? This is jealous. This is a woman who got left on rank night trying to make it ugly."

"I left you."

"You left me a ring on a counter. That's not leaving, that's pouting."

He turned back to his friends, still grinning.

Then he turned around one more time.

The grin was gone.

"And Maura? If Denver doesn't happen, it's because you poisoned it."

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