The pediatric clinic is full of cheerful colors. Leo holds Mom's hand tightly as they walk in.
Leo sits on the exam table. His fingers dig into the crinkly paper — crinkle, crinkle. He spots the shiny needle and pulls his knees to his chest.
He tries to hide behind Mom's legs. Then behind a tall stool. Then he buries his face in her coat pocket. Scuff, scuff — his shoes sound loud on the tile.
Mom kneels down. She takes a deep breath — whoosh through the nose, pfffffft out the mouth. 'Like a superhero,' she says.
Leo copies her. But his breath comes out as a shaky hiccup that makes Mom laugh. She holds out her hand. Leo takes it.
The nurse says, 'Ready, Leo?' His feet won't move. Mom squeezes his hand twice — a superhero signal.
Leo closes his eyes and takes one big breath. He feels the cold wipe on his arm. Hears a quick beep. Opens his eyes — it's already over.
Leo looks down at his cheek. A big red heart sticker is stuck right there. He touches it with one finger.
He stands up straight with his chin lifted high. The heart sticker is still there, shining like a badge of bravery.
Leo walks out of the room without looking back. His heart sticker stays right where it is.
