by Jessica Waddle.

“Next!”

The man in khakis and a bright-red shirt points and motions for me to follow him across the dimly- lit gym.

I take a seat in the cold, plastic chair and shove my shaking hands underneath my bent legs. I release one of my captive hands to grab my water bottle from underneath my chair.

“Oh, don’t drink that. I need to take your temperature.”

She sits at the desk that separates me from the student sitting across from me. She begins her questioning.

I begin to question my choice.

“Do I really want to do this? The nurse is going to mess up and it’s going to hurt. I just know it.”

She tapes the opaque tubes to my arm. My heart races as I watch her out of the corner of my eye.

“Just don’t let me see the needle.”

I look at her, straight in the eye. She smiles and nods. I feel the slight prick as she pushes the needle in my arm and I relax.

I walk away from the gym, bright red bandages holding the small pad of gauze in the crook of my arm. Right then, I knew how good it felt to give back.