Chapter 13: Night Terrors of a 16-Year-Old Boy
David spread his hands: "Does it matter where the gold coin came from? You're not telling me you can't match the bet, right? If not, then forget it, I'll just—"
Before David could finish, Foreman interrupted, "No, I'm in. I hope you won't be crying about losing that gold coin later!
Chase, what's one of those worth?"
Chase set down the New York Times he'd been reading and picked up the gold coin from the conference table to examine it.
As someone who'd grown up with money, he'd handled plenty of gold coins and recognized almost instantly that this was pure gold.
Though a pure gold coin wasn't much for well-paid physicians, for an intern who'd grown up in foster care, it could legitimately be considered a small fortune.
"Three grand. Speaking of which, count me in too.
Hmm, I'll bet House loses his mind over this extra case."
Foreman frowned slightly: "What? Chase, you're going to compete with me for this money too?"
Chase chuckled: "More the merrier, right? It's about the sport of it. Cameron, you want in?"
Cameron, who'd just finished replying to an email, glanced at David and said, "I don't have the kind of disposable income you guys do. I'll put a hundred on House not getting angry."
Hearing Cameron's bet, Foreman grinned: "Cameron, I'll gladly take that free money. I'll buy you dinner with it sometime."
Cameron shook her head: "What? You've already decided House will be pissed about this? I don't think so."
Foreman chuckled and stopped talking.
He'd long ago concluded that House was a complete jerk, and since he was a jerk, House wouldn't miss an opportunity to act like one.
Soon, a fuming House shoved open the door to the diagnostics department.
"When did my signature become so damn cutesy? Huh? See this 'G'?
Why does it have a circle on top like some middle school girl's handwriting?
This is not my signature at all. You know what I think?
Whoever forged this has to be compensating for something, right?"
Hearing House's angry outburst, Foreman and Chase exchanged satisfied smiles.
House's reaction was exactly what they'd predicted.
Foreman even shot David a look of pity.
Three thousand dollars was only one-seventh of his salary as a licensed physician.
But for intern David, that was probably everything he had.
Losing a gold coin would devastate him.
But Foreman didn't see the expected expression of regret and anguish.
David just sat there calmly, listening to House's complaints.
It was Cameron who couldn't help defending her decision to House:
"Look, you're impossible to reach. There's no way they could see you through normal channels.
They tried calling, emailing, showing up at the clinic..."
When House heard how much effort others had put in to get him to see their case, the angry expression on his face gradually softened:
"Persistence doesn't mean they deserve my time. All I care about are the cases other hospitals can't crack.
Next time you want my attention, you might as well try something more attention-grabbing, like low-rise jeans and a halter top."
Cameron completely ignored House's inappropriate comment:
"Sixteen-year-old male, unexplained diplopia and night terrors. He's been to three different hospitals, but none could identify the source..."
As soon as she said this, House immediately perked up and interrupted: "Night terrors? Like actual hallucinations? Monsters under the bed type stuff?"
"Yes."
Hearing this, House immediately grabbed his cane, stood up, and strode toward the door.
Cameron asked, somewhat surprised: "Where are you going?"
House called back as he walked: "I usually avoid patients like the plague, but a sixteen-year-old with night terrors?
This could involve abuse. I need to talk to him directly.
Nice work, Cameron."
Nice work?
Cameron's face lit up with genuine pleasure.
But Foreman's expression soured considerably.
He'd never expected this plot twist.
House genuinely wasn't angry about Cameron forging his signature to book a patient.
Which meant he'd lost! He owed David three grand!
David smiled, stood up, collected the gold coin from the table, and before following House said, "You'll wire the three thousand to my account, right?"
Chase, having grown up wealthy, didn't particularly care—just felt slightly beaten.
"Of course. I don't welsh on bets. Foreman, what about you?"
Foreman snorted: "Neither do I. Fine, consider it your intern signing bonus.
At least now you can afford to replace those scrubs you've been wearing three days straight."
David smiled: "Thanks for your concern. I'll use this money to buy myself some decent clothes after my shift."
Knowing he'd basically just paid for David's wardrobe upgrade made Foreman feel deeply uncomfortable.
He had a mortgage and a family to support. He hadn't been willing to update his own limited wardrobe in years.
And now he hadn't replaced his own clothes, but he'd funded someone else's shopping spree.
No way. He had to find an opportunity to win it back!
Foreman watched the others walk away and quickly followed.
As long as David was still interning here, there'd always be another chance!
Soon, everyone followed House to an empty exam room.
There they met a family of three.
The boy sat on the exam table looking anxious, while his parents radiated worry.
House glanced at the parents, then personally examined the kid's upper body.
After checking his pupillary response, House set down his penlight.
"Edge definition's good, no papilledema, color's normal. Okay, night terrors in a kid over ten only have two causes.
PTSD from trauma or abuse. So, Dan, did you get in a fight at school? Get jumped?"
Dan shook his head: "No."
"Oh, then it's option two. Has anyone sexually abused you?
A teacher? Or maybe a friendly neighbor? Or perhaps your parents?
Though I'm guessing your parents wouldn't exactly volunteer that information, would they?"
After that statement, nearly everyone in the room visibly reacted.
If true, this was an extremely serious accusation.
Dan's parents, along with Dan himself, immediately denied the allegation.
Then Dan revealed the truth:
"There was trauma. I took a pretty bad hit to the head when I fell during a lacrosse game.
But I was having occasional double vision even before I got injured."
House shook his head, leaned on his cane, and prepared to leave:
"Double vision before the injury means you need glasses, kid.
You should be seeing an optometrist, not me."
"Wait, Dr. House, please listen—"
Dan's father immediately tried to stop House from leaving.
But House just said: "If you don't believe my diagnosis, what's the point of the appointment?
I've given you my assessment. We're done here."
But just as House was about to step through the door, David suddenly blocked his path, then pointed to Dan's leg dangling from the exam table:
"Wait. Look at his leg. It's twitching involuntarily."
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