Pop 23

Olive didn’t bother knocking.

Ashton’s door was ajar, so she slipped in.

He lay sprawled on the bed, eyes squeezed shut as if he

could will her away. “Go away, Olive. I’m sick.”

Olive sat down at the edge of his mattress anyway,

the springs sighing under her weight.

“Sick from what? Laziness? I missed you at Bingo today.

As always, Petals won and stirred up hate for being the reigning queen.”

Ashton cracked one eye open.

“What’d she win this time? Another crappy stuffed toy?”

Olive chuckled. “Actually, the nursing home got generous. Five bucks.”

That made Ashton laugh — a dry, hollow sound.

“So what’s up with you these days? Usually when the nursing students are

here you’re all uppity, checking out everyone.

I saw some new faces earlier. Not sure which school they’re from.”

Ashton stared at the ceiling, his hands folded across his stomach.

“I don’t know, Olive. Sometimes I feel like all I want

to do is hit the bucket, you know? Like I’ve got no purpose at all.”

Olive’s expression softened. She reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Don’t say that. You’ve still got me and Petals. Don’t we give your life some kind of purpose?”

Ashton shut his eyes. “Okay, fine. You caught me.

You’re like a bee buzzing for gossip. The other night… I was at Leo’s room.”

Olive’s eyes lit up. “I knew this was about that handsome student nurse.

So you were in his room. You’ve got to give me more than that — specifics, looks, girth—”

“Olive.” Ashton rolled his eyes. “Nothing happened, if that’s what you’re dying to know.”

“Nothing? You’re in his bedroom and nothing happened?”

Olive’s brows shot up. “Do you realize the odds of an old geezer like you ending up

in a student nurse’s bed? Zero. To zero point zero nothing.”

Ashton sighed. “I wanted to… you know… be intimate. He’d already undressed. But—”

Olive slid closer, her voice dropping. “Wait. He undressed? So you saw everything?”

She waggled her eyebrows. “Every inch of everything?”

Ashton shoved her lightly. “I don’t do show-and-tell about my man.”

Olive’s mouth curled into a sly smile. “So he’s your man now.

When were you planning on telling me and Petals?”

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, and her expression flickered before she locked it.

“Who’s that?” Ashton asked.

“My ex,” she muttered. “Tristan.”

“You broke up with him?”

“More like he dumped me.”

Ashton gave her a gentle tug closer. “Seems like you’ve got more drama than me.”

Olive smoothed a hand through her recently dyed hair, still baffled why it had turned pink.

“Wait, this isn’t about me. Why didn’t you take things to the next level?”

“Because I’m old, Olive. I want Leo to see a younger version of me —

the Ashton of my old days. Back then I could freeze a whole room with a smirk.

I could get anyone I wanted.”

Olive studied him, her sharp edges softening.

“I believe you. I can still see the winker in you.”

She patted his arm. “Tell you what. Feel like going out this Friday? I’ll hire a cab.”

Ashton perked up slightly. “Where to? You know the new rules — we need permits

from the nurse in charge and from Mrs. Margarette. She’s a control freak about everything.

And let me tell you getting a permit from her is like finding a needle on a stack of hay stack”

Olive smirked. “Then we’ll sneak out. I’ll ask Petals if she wants to tag along.”

Ashton nodded. “See you at dinner, then.”

Olive slipped out, already scrolling on her phone.

——————————————————————————————————-

Leo was in another wing of the Nursing home, caught in his own mess.

He was prepping Miss Lourdes for her straight catheter, but she had more questions than nerves.

“Are you sure you’re not exposing anything you’re not supposed to expose?”

she asked, swaddled in layers of blankets and disposable sheets, her legs splayed but hidden under makeshift drapes.

“Don’t worry, Miss Lourdes.” Leo’s voice was calm. “This will be quick and painless.”

Her eyes darted. “Well, I don’t like men looking at my you-know-what.

I know what you guys do the moment you’re alone in the toilet. Can’t you do this with your eyes closed?”

Leo exhaled quietly.

Four new nursing students passed the room. One of them, a cute guy with a sharp jaw, gave Leo a lingering look.

“Well, I’m waiting, son,” Lourdes continued. “I don’t want you to go home thinking about what you’ve seen.

You can’t objectify me. I’m a lady.”

Leo smiled politely. “Of course you are. And we’re almost done.”

“That fast? I didn’t even know you were poking me with that thing!”

He bit back a laugh. “I’ll pull it out now and clean the gel. Then we’re finished.”

“Close your eyes when you clean me up!” she demanded.

“Don’t scrub me down there too much. I don’t want you thinking I’m not… you know… tight.

I’m really sensitive. No man’s ever been close to my hallelujah. Forgive me if I’m fussy.”

Leo said nothing, his focus absolute.

“So, what do you usually do on Fridays?”

He nearly jumped — Olive was standing behind him.

Lourdes shrieked. “Olive, don’t you dare look! I’m vulnerable.

You old lesbian perv, you’re not going to gossip about my thingy with your minions!”

Olive tilted her head. “Oh please. I’ve seen better. Besides, you’re an old twat.”

A pillow flew across the room.

Olive smirked at Leo. “Check your pocket.” Then she darted off, Lourdes chasing her across the nursing floor.

Leo lunged for a blanket, but too late — Lourdes stormed into the Bingo room like a newborn,

completely uncovered.

She screamed when she realized she had left with nothing on, not even her dignity.

Leo slipped a note from his pocket.

Love for you to join us.
Me (Tristan’s ex), plus my two pals.
Club Palenco, 8 PM Friday. Two blocks behind the nursing home.
(Also, there are a couple of questions I wanna ask you about Tristan — I know you’re like friends.)

Leo read it twice, the corner of his mouth twitching.