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Plastic Hearts

Plastic Hearts


Description : Plastic Hearts
"Another mimosa, miss?" the waiter asked, distracting me from the piece of art in the corner of the dining room.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you," I replied, shifting my attention back to the modern abstract painting. I hated the country club, but I had to admit that the decorator had great taste.

"Are you having a good time?"

I turned to face Ryan, my boyfriend of eight months. I smiled weakly at him. I wasn’t having a good time, but I would never admit it. This was my part. To play the happy, successful, put-together daughter who doted on her parents. Being here with our families made me miss the peace of my college dorm. Only four more hours before we had to leave and head back to NYU. Still, it seemed four hours too long.

"Yes, the food is delicious," I said, pulling my muffin apart and popping a piece in my mouth. Honestly, I had barely touched anything. My mother always watched what I put in my mouth and I would rather go hungry than listen to her rattle off how many calories I ate. Though she wouldn’t say anything here, of course.

"So, Alexandra, have you decided which field you're going to practice medicine in?" Thomas, Ryan's father, asked.

I cleared my throat and glanced around the table, realizing all eyes were on me. "I'm thinking about pediatrics, but I'm still undecided," I finally replied. The truth was that I hadn't been thinking about it at all. I noticed my father's eyes were locked on me. This was a rare occurrence, but also one that terrified me. His attention rarely came with good intentions.

"As in surgery?" my father asked, his eyes still glued on mine.

I looked down to calm my racing nerves. "No, just general pediatrics. I don't think surgery is for me."...
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