Page 2 of Scars of Anatomy
Olivia
Groggily, I roll over to check my alarm clock and see that it’s just past ten in the morning. With a groan, I throw back the blankets and force myself to get up. It’s Wednesday during the first week of classes, and I’ve already skipped Monday and Tuesday.
Football practice has been kicking my ass, so I’ve been sleeping in.
The first day of classes are all syllabus days anyway, so what does it matter?
Kids are floating around with schedule changes, too, so it’s not like teachers will assign any real homework.
But today I have my anatomy class lab, and I don’t want to get stuck with some random as my partner.
I at least want some control over who I’ll be paired with for the whole semester.
After a quick shower I get dressed in a simple black T-shirt and dark jeans. I manage to slip a pen into my back pocket, deciding to skip carrying my backpack around, before heading out the door to the science building.
I find room 109, the anatomy lab, and walk in. The stench of formaldehyde immediately wafts up my nose, and I look around to see that most of the tables are already full.
I’m glancing around, weighing my limited options, when long raven hair and piercing green eyes catch mine. Adrianna looks up and I see a hint of a smirk tug at her plump lips. Her table of four is already full, but she waves me over.
I just give her a simple nod in greeting, refusing to comply. I know she wants me to be her partner, but I’m not willing to go down that road. I don’t want to blur any more lines with her and give her any false hope.
I scan the room again, finding a table of three guys who all look like loners. They glare at me.
All right, clearly I’m not welcome.
There’s a table of two girls sitting next to each other, looking at me intently, hunger in their eyes.
Pass.
The only table left has a boy and girl sitting together, both of them total nerds, but they’ll have to do. Maybe I’ll have a chance of passing this class if they’ll carry the load.
I walk over and take a seat across from them.
The boy has short dark hair, and he’s pale as fuck.
His rodent-like face is buried in his phone, and he doesn’t even acknowledge me as I sit down.
The girl next to him looks to be of Indian descent with dark curly hair and light-brown skin.
Her narrow face and high cheekbones are nearly covered by large, thick-rimmed glasses.
She looks up at me from the thick textbook she’s reading, and her dark-brown eyes widen when she recognizes me.
She gapes at me for a few moments, and I pull my phone out of my pocket, staring at it to try to make things less awkward. I’m starting to rethink my decision about sitting here.
I look over my shoulder at Adrianna’s table to see her and the other three girls in a heated discussion, keeping their voices low as they argue over who’s going to be exiled to make room for me.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have her as a partner . . .
“Olivia!” the girl across from me excitedly shouts, nearly giving me, and almost everyone else in the class, a heart attack.
I turn back to look at the girl sitting across from me, and she’s looking at the door, smiling widely. Rodent Boy looks up from his phone, surprise written all over his face as he sits up straighter.
I look at the doorway and spot a tall, slender brunet standing there, a deep blush spreading across her cheeks.
She gives a quick sheepish smile to the class while stepping over the threshold, keeping her head down as she briskly strides to our table, her long caramel-colored hair flowing behind her.
My breath hitches in my throat. She’s beautiful.
She’s not the conventional type—not drop dead gorgeous, sexy as sin, or hot as hell.
No. She’s the subtle kind of beauty; the kind that can easily be overlooked if you’re not careful enough.
She’s not the kind to turn heads on the street—she seems far too shy and reserved to purposefully attract attention—but nonetheless, she takes my breath away.
Our eyes meet briefly as she gets closer, and she gives me a small, kind smile.
It’s like a breath of fresh air. I’m used to girls smiling at me, but they usually have some sort of motive behind it.
Her smile isn’t suggestive or seductive, and there’s no hunger in her eyes or awe signaling that she knows who I am.
Her smile is genuine and friendly, and damn does it make me feel good.
She’s dressed simply in a white T-shirt and jeans, not a usual first-week outfit. Most girls go out of their way to dress up the first week of classes, wanting to impress everyone. Not this girl. Even in this simple outfit she manages to capture my attention, whether she intended to or not.
She stands next to our table and her warm honey–colored eyes meet mine once again. “Hi, is this seat taken?” her soft, melodic voice asks politely, gesturing to the empty chair next to me.
Caught off guard, I shake my head, my lips parted like a damn idiot as no words come out.
She gives me that smile again before shrugging off her powder-blue backpack, setting it on the floor, and taking a seat next to me. The faint smell of vanilla wafts over, giving me some much needed relief from the formaldehyde.
“Hey, Liv!” the girl across from us greets her.
Olivia.
“Hey, guys,” she greets the two across from us.
“What are you doing in this lab?” Pale Rat Boy asks abruptly, some accusation in his tone.
“Oh.” She startles, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah, I had to rearrange my schedule a bit at the last minute. Professor Cooper’s other lab TA had a scheduling conflict.
She asked if we could switch times, and I didn’t have to move my schedule around much to accommodate the change, so I agreed to help her out and run the morning lab instead,” she says quickly, seemingly trying to brush off the subject.
“I swear, that woman’s in love with you.
Ever since freshman year she’s found a way to keep you around somehow because you’re her favorite.
TA, grading assistant, tutor for her class .
. . I swear Professor Cooper would let you move in with her if you asked.
Yet she acts like she hates everyone else and barely let me pass her class with an A,” the girl across from me scoffs bitterly.
Olivia rolls her eyes. “She’s not in love with me, Dee. She’s actually really nice. A tough professor at times, yes, but nice. And, hey, at least you got an A.”
“Says the girl who passed the hardest freshman class with a ninety-seven percent,” Dee grumbles.
Pale Boy sits forward in his seat. “You should have told me you were switching to this lab section. I would have saved you a seat so we could be partners.”
“Gee, thanks. What am I, chopped liver?” Dee asks, offended. “Too bad you already promised to be my partner once you knew Liv wasn’t going to be in this lab.”
“Sorry,” Olivia offers up. “So, did you guys do anything fun this summer?” she asks, quickly trying to skirt around the topic again, leaning over in her chair to pull a binder from her backpack.
Dee launches into her summer adventures, talking about all the trips she took and the fun things she did. I don’t pay attention. My eyes are focused on Olivia’s profile as she listens to her friend, amusement written on her face as the other girl goes on and on enthusiastically.
Dee’s story gets cut short when the teaching assistant walks in, juggling stacks of papers in her arms as she shuts the door behind her. She drops the pages on the front table with a thud and walks over to the desk to wake up the computer and turn on the projector.
“Hello, everyone!” Her greeting silences the low murmur of the classroom. “My name is Tracy, and I’m going to be your TA for the semester.”
She pulls up a PowerPoint that outlines the syllabus and passes out copies to all of us.
When everyone receives a copy, she goes over it in great detail, explaining the class policies and procedures for nearly twenty minutes.
Usually I’d just get up and leave, but I stare at Olivia as she reads over the packet intently, highlighting and circling.
Next, Tracy passes out a tentative class schedule that goes over weekly topics, including page numbers to study from our lab manual.
She lets us know there will be a quiz covering the previous week’s material every week and tests will be every four weeks, along with a final exam.
Since we’re not going over any material this week, there will be no quiz next week.
After wasting nearly thirty minutes of my life, Tracy takes it further, pulling up another PowerPoint presentation about herself, declaring we need to get to know each other since we’ll be spending the semester together. I mentally groan as she goes on and on about herself.
“All right, everyone, that’s me. Now let’s hear about you!
” She prances over to the whiteboard and picks up a dry-erase marker, scribbling a prompt for us to follow.
“Whoever you are sitting next to will be your partner for the semester, someone you’re going to have to spend time with, so I want you to get to know each other, as well as the whole class. ”
She continues writing on the board, making a list of questions. “I want you first to get to know your partner, find out their name, where they’re from, their major, and what they want to do in the future. When you’re all finished, I’ll have you stand up and introduce your partner to the class.”
Multiple groans fill the air, everyone hating the idea of having to introduce themselves to a class—let alone another person. But I don’t find myself minding it as much as I usually would.
I twist a bit in my seat to face Olivia, and she turns her body toward mine as well, our knees almost knocking together.
She gives me a small, almost shy smile. “Hi, I’m Olivia McCausland.”
I mentally jot that down.
“Bronx Miller.” I extend my hand to her, and she places her small hand in my much larger one, shaking it.
“Nice to meet you. I don’t think we’ve had a class together before.”
Definitely not. I would have remembered. Regardless, I try to play it cool. “No, I don’t think so. What year are you?”
“I’m a senior, graduating in the spring. You?”
“I’m a senior too,” I admit, feeling disappointed to have only just met her. “What are you majoring in?” I ask, hoping maybe our majors are far off, and that’s why we’ve never ran into each other.
“I’m pre-med with a minor in chemistry.”
I frown slightly. “I’m health management: exercise science. How have we never run into each other?”
She gives me a tiny, one-shoulder shrug. “I’ve seen you around a handful of times, but I guess we’ve never had a reason to run into each other.”
I nod once, disappointed that she’s noticed me but I’ve never spotted her before. “Damn. I should pay more attention.”
A small giggle passes her lips, and I’m pretty sure a blush is blossoming across her cheeks. “Are you originally from Georgia?”
I shake my head. “Nah, I just came here for college. I’m originally from Florida, I guess.”
“You guess?” She grins, raising a curious eyebrow.
“Yeah, I moved around a lot as a kid, but I was born in Florida and spent most of my time there. Are you originally from here?” I ask, quickly moving away from any possible conversation about my past.
“Yeah, my parents have lived here their whole lives.”
“That’s pretty uncommon, kids from around here staying for college. You didn’t want to move away? Experience someplace new?”
She shrugs. “I guess I like it here too much.”
“So pre-med, that’s pretty ambitious,” I comment, twisting my body more toward her, getting comfortable in my chair.
She smiles. “Yeah. The plan is actually to become a cardiac surgeon.”
My brows nearly shoot up to my hairline. “Whoa, a cardiac surgeon? Like, you literally want to have people’s hearts in your hands and work on them?”
“That’s what a cardiac surgeon does,” I hear Rat Boy mutter, and it takes everything in me not to give him the finger and tell him to mind his own business.
Olivia nods, not hearing him. “I’ve always been intrigued by the heart and all it can handle. Then I did some shadowing in the OR and fell in love with it.”
“Wow, that’s more than ambitious, that’s badass,” I admit, making her smile.
“What about you? What are your plans after college?” she asks, and I suddenly feel a little embarrassed; my aspirations are miles away from hers.
“Oh, uh.” I awkwardly cup a hand around the back of my neck, massaging. “I actually plan on playing football. I want to get drafted by the NFL after college.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh wow, that’s really awesome,” she says genuinely—not in the condescending or fake tone I was expecting based on her academics.
“Do you like football?”
She cringes in embarrassment. “I mean, I’ve watched a few games with my dad, but honestly, half the time I have no clue what’s going on.”
“Don’t worry, I can teach you,” I reply smoothly, proud of myself.
“All right, class!” Tracy yells over all the chatter, trying to take control of the room. “Are we ready?”
One by one, each pair of partners stands up and introduces each other to the class.
When it’s our table’s turn, Dee quickly shoots up from her seat first, Rat Boy following suit unenthusiastically.
I find out Dee’s real name is Delilah Harper.
She’s a senior majoring in pre-med, wanting to become a neurosurgeon.
Rat Boy’s name is Quinton Barnsley—still debating whether I’m going to call him by his real name or not.
He’s also a senior majoring in pre-med, wanting to become an MD.
Once they’re finished, I stand up with Olivia, actually looking forward to this. “Hello, everyone,” I greet the class and gesture to Olivia. “This is Olivia McCausland. She’s a senior from Georgia, majoring in pre-med. After college, she plans on going to med school and becoming a cardiac surgeon.”
I look over at Olivia, who gives me a small, surprised smile and an approving nod for going off script, not needing notes in front of me like most students.
“And this is Bronx Miller.” Olivia gestures to me. “He’s a senior, originally from Florida, and majoring in exercise science. After college he plans on playing football for the NFL.” Now it’s her turn to look at me and I give her a grin, raising my fist to her for a fist bump.
Once we take our seats, the next table continues on with introductions, the class finally ending after the last pair goes.