Page 30 of Scars of Anatomy

Brutal

The week back after Thanksgiving break is brutal. Everyone is walking around like zombies, probably still hungover from the holiday, but most of all, they’re dreading the next three weeks.

The few short weeks leading up to finals are utter hell.

Kids are running around like chickens with their heads cut off, some of them crying or jitterier than an addict from running solely on caffeine, and most look like pure death.

Everyone is already so worn down from the semester, and they’ve all gotten a taste of what the month-long Christmas break is going to be like, so there’s no turning back now.

We’re all just trying to push through these next three weeks to survive and keep our sanity, but the professors are ruthless.

As if cramming a semester’s worth of material into one final test isn’t gruesome enough, some even tack on last-minute projects and papers like it’s no big deal. They act as if they’re asking you to just add one extra item to your grocery list.

Aside from stress and pure mental exhaustion, finals are usually the time of year everyone starts getting sick. From Thanksgiving to Christmas, every year without fail, campus seems to be the breeding ground for the plague since everyone’s immune system is depleted due to stress.

Wednesday afternoon, I stroll into the science building for lab. I walk down the hall and round the corner to find Olivia standing outside our classroom, talking to Delilah.

My steps falter a bit as I take in her appearance. Her skin is pale and her eyes are tired as she tries to focus on what Delilah’s saying. She looks so worn down and fragile, like she’s sick.

At this point I wouldn’t doubt it, with the time of the year and with the number of times she was out in the cold for extended periods this past week. Aside from the ice storm and walking to and from class, she also sat out in the cold with her dad the Saturday after Thanksgiving to watch me play.

Walking closer, I can see the dark circles under her eyes, which are a dull brown, not their usual warm honey color. She’s blinking slowly and heavily, her breathing labored as she struggles to keep her eyes open. Her face seems to grow paler, and she sways.

As if in a movie, time slows to an antagonizing speed as I watch Olivia’s legs buckle beneath her. Without a second thought, I take off, running full force toward her. It feels like I’m running from yards away to reach her, when in reality, it’s probably less than thirty feet.

Just as she’s about to hit the floor, I dive, somehow managing to catch her and break most of her fall.

I hear Delilah scream, interrupting the movie-like trance, and everything snaps back to regular speed so fast it gives me whiplash.

With shaky hands, my heart thumping wilder than it ever has on any field during a game, I gather Olivia up in my arms. I barely hear the commotion from everyone around us, and everything happens in such a blur that I don’t even realize I’m rushing her to Chase’s truck, Delilah hot on my heels.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” Delilah repeats. “What happened?”

Olivia makes a small groaning noise, and I look down at her in my arms. Her eyes slowly flutter halfway open as she comes to, looking disoriented.

“Olivia?” My voice sounds strange.

“What happened?” she asks.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

I get to Chase’s truck and get Delilah to grab the keys out of my backpack and open the door. I gently place Olivia in the passenger seat.

“Are you all right?” I ask, my eyes scanning her for any serious injuries. I brush some hair out of her face as she blinks, trying to regain her bearings.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she says uncertainly, her hand coming up to lightly rub her forehead. “Just tired.” I notice the rasp in her voice, the strain of it. She also sounds a bit nasally, like her nose is stuffed up.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Delilah says, pressing her hand to her heart. “I’ve never seen someone just drop like that.”

“Let’s get you to the hospital and get you checked out,” I murmur, buckling her in.

A look of fear flashes across her face. “It’s okay, guys. I’m fine. Really.”

Delilah and I glance at each other, as if to say Yeah, right .

“Better to be safe than sorry,” Delilah tries to persuade her.

“Yeah, Finch. You really scared the hell out of both of us,” I admit.

She scans my face, and my expression must say it all, because she slowly nods, agreeing.

Delilah offers to stay back to let Tracy know why we aren’t there and to fill us in on what we’re going to miss in lab today. I take Olivia to the emergency room, and they get her back into a room fairly quickly to take her vitals and begin some standard testing.

Olivia allows me to go back into the room with her after the nurse and doctor check her out. Once they step out to go evaluate her tests and I step in, Cora rushes through the door, looking frantic.

“Olivia,” she says, shocked and breathless. “Baby, what happened?” She walks over to Olivia’s bed, gently grabbing her face in her hands as her wide, worried eyes scan Olivia head to toe. “I saw your name on the board and came running as fast as I could.”

“I’m okay, Cora,” Olivia assures her, filling her in on what happened.

Cora frowns, her eyes darting to the monitors Olivia is hooked up to, reading her vitals.

“We just had dinner last night. You seemed fine other than a stuffy nose,” she mutters to herself, trying to figure out what went wrong.

Cora runs through taking Olivia’s vitals again. She takes her temperature and blood pressure and pulls out her stethoscope to check her heart and breathing. In my opinion, she seems to go over the top with it, doing unnecessary and excessive nurse-y type things. But what do I know.

Once Cora is done with her own personal examination, the doctor steps back into the room with her clipboard.

“Miss McCausland.” She hugs the clipboard to her chest. “Good news. As far as your tests go, everything looks fairly normal. Other than some dehydration and signs of a common cold, everything looks fine.”

Olivia pinches her brows together. “Then why would I pass out?”

The doctor purses her lips in thought. “It could be because of the dehydration. Have you been getting enough sleep lately? How are your stress levels?”

Olivia shrugs. “I guess I haven’t been getting much sleep with finals coming up and the stuffy nose—not being able to breathe at night. Then, finals and medical school application deadlines probably have my stress levels up, more so than normal,” she admits sheepishly.

The doctor gives her a sympathetic and knowing smile.

“Ah, I remember those days. Well, we’re just going to give you some fluids to help you feel better.

Then I want you to go home and get some rest. The combination of the cold, dehydration, stress, and exhaustion are probably what did you in.

Before you leave, I’m going to write you an excuse slip for your classes tomorrow.

Stay home and get some rest,” she instructs.

I knew Olivia was stressed about finals, about keeping her 4.0 GPA for medical school—even though she could probably fail all of her finals and still manage to get an A in all of her classes—but I didn’t know it was this bad.

Over the weekend, she had already started cracking down on her books instead of soaking up her last few days of break.

I didn’t think much of it. I just thought it was Olivia being Olivia, getting a few hours of studying in a day, but now I wonder just how hard she’s been pushing herself.

Not to mention she’s been working ruthlessly on her med school applications too.

With a friendly smile, the doctor exits the room, and Cora gets working on Olivia’s IV. As soon as Olivia gets the bag of fluids, the door opens and both of her parents rush in, looking panicked.

“Olivia,” they say in unison, hurrying to her bedside.

“Are you okay?” her mother says worriedly, checking her over.

“I’m fine,” Olivia says.

Cora steps in. “Why don’t we go grab some coffee and let her rest for a minute. I’ll fill you guys in.”

Her parents nod, and at the same time I manage to catch their eyes.

“Bronx.” Her dad smiles, eyes lighting up with recognition. He comes over to give me a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for bring her in.”

“Yes,” her mother says, sounding relieved. “Thank you.” The sincerity in her voice and the look in her eyes makes me feel like I’m some big hero or something.

“It was no problem,” I assure them. “I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

Her dad gives me a nod of approval. “Thank you. Would you mind staying with her for a few more minutes while we run to grab some coffee? I can bring you back something,” he offers.

I shake my head, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “Nah, I’m good. Thank you, though. I’ll stay with her for as long as you need.”

He gives me an appreciative smile before he, his wife, and Cora leave the room and walk down the hall to the cafeteria.

I glance at Olivia, who is struggling to keep her eyes open. She looks so tired and fragile hooked up to all the monitors and with an IV in her arm. Walking over to her, I take a seat on the edge of the bed.

“You don’t have to stay,” she tells me. “I know you have football practice later.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I assure her softly, placing my hand on top of hers, mindful of the pulse reader on her finger. “Get some rest, Finch.”

As if she finally has permission to sleep, her eyes flutter closed, her long lashes resting on the tops of her cheeks. I watch as her breathing evens out and her body relaxes and becomes heavy with sleep.

A little while later her parents and Cora come back to the room. We all wait for her IV to finish and for the doctor to write her an excuse slip before she’s discharged. I insist on following her parents home and carry her up the stairs to her bedroom, tucking her in for the rest of the night.