Page 37 of Scars of Anatomy

Punished

After nearly a semester of anatomy lab, the lingering stench of formaldehyde doesn’t bother me as much anymore. It’s become familiar as I step into the small classroom and walk over to my table, where my girlfriend has her back to me.

Delilah looks up and sees me, a knowing smirk on her face. Olivia probably filled her in earlier this morning about our new official relationship status.

Slowly, quietly, I sneak up behind Olivia, leaning over her shoulder to smack an unexpected kiss on her cheek. She jumps, mildly startled.

Twisting at the waist, she looks back to see my grinning face, a grin breaking out across her own.

“Hi, girlfriend,” I murmur, leaning down to plant a proper kiss on her mouth.

“Hi,” she responds, a cute little blush spreading across her cheeks. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over how adorably shy she gets when I show her affection.

I shrug off my backpack and jacket before taking my seat, reaching over and grabbing the leg of Olivia’s chair.

Dragging her closer to me, I drape my arm over the back of her chair and place another kiss to the side of her head, causing her to giggle and shake her head, amused at my likely overkill of affection.

But I can’t help it. It’s like everything inside of me itches to be near her, to touch her.

“All right, you two lovebirds are so cute I want to throw up in my mouth,” Delilah sarcastically jokes.

Olivia’s cheeks burn red in embarrassment as she shrinks in her chair, and I can’t stop beaming. I glance at Delilah, and she gives me a secret smile, letting me know she’s happy for her best friend—and amused by her agony.

For the first time I glance across our table to find Rat Boy not there, giving me a sense of relief.

After he stormed out of class yesterday like a child, I figured he wouldn’t show up to lab today, especially since it’s just a review session for the final.

He probably thinks he’s too good, too smart, to even show up and go over any of the material.

Tracy walks into the classroom, winded, carrying stacks of papers.

She sets them on her desk and walks over to the computer, booting it up while smoothing out her hair, which has fallen out of her haphazard bun.

I guess the week leading up to finals is taking its toll on her as a grad student and as a TA.

Watching Tracy, I accidentally catch a pair of envious green eyes.

Adrianna scowls at me—or at Olivia, rather—her arms tightly folded over her chest. I can tell she’s analyzing every little thing, scrutinizing. Wondering where she went wrong in her attempt to get us to end up together. Wondering what makes Olivia so special or what game I’m trying to play.

“All right, everyone,” Tracy cuts in, getting everyone’s attention.

Adrianna’s eyes reluctantly peel away from my direction.

“As you know, the final for this lab section is next week on Wednesday at eight a.m.,” Tracy announces, causing a couple of students to groan at the reminder.

“I know it’s way earlier than our normal time,” she cuts in, “but just think, at least you’re getting it over with first thing,” she finishes, trying to be optimistic.

“For today,” she continues, grabbing her stack of papers and passing them out, “I’ve made some review sheets for you to study and a mock final for you to try out. Turn it in by the end of the class period and I’ll give you a few bonus points.

“Now I know your professor has come up with the brilliant idea of having you take the finals in pairs,” she says cynically, letting us all know she’s not too keen on the idea.

“So work with your partner on the mock final and figure out how you want to execute the real thing by either divvying up the sections or each studying it all and coming together. Whatever you want. Rats are in the back corner if you want to grab one to study and let me know if you have any questions.”

Wordlessly, Olivia and Delilah stand up and get in line to grab a rat, leaving me at the table alone.

While waiting for them, I pull out my phone to scroll through some of my socials to distract myself from Adrianna’s returning gaze, until I hear a small collision and a loud, surprised gasp.

I immediately look up to find Olivia frozen, her eyes wide and jaw slack.

Taking a closer look, I see something spilled all over her light-pink sweater.

A girl from Adrianna’s table is standing in front of her, holding one of the trays that the cadaver rats are usually in, and I look down to see a rat at Olivia’s feet.

“Oops,” the girl—one of Adrianna’s minions—says insincerely, giving her best grimace.

The legs of my chair screech loudly against the tile as I get up and immediately go over there.

“Seriously?” Delilah spits at the girl, her eyes narrowing and growing hard behind her glasses. “Don’t you watch where you’re going?”

I come up behind Olivia and wrap my arm around her to tuck her protectively into my side, getting a large whiff of formaldehyde. Looking down at her, I realize it’s formaldehyde spilled down her sweater from the rat Adrianna’s minion must have dropped on her.

“What’s going on here?” Tracy jumps up from her chair and walks over, her eyes flicking between the four of us.

“It was an accident,” Adrianna’s minion insists, her overly sweet tone telling me she’s lying.

I glance over at Adrianna, catching a smirk on her lips. This was no accident.

“She ran right into Olivia and spilled the tray all over her,” Delilah informs Tracy, annoyed, gesturing at Olivia’s soiled sweater.

Olivia grabs the front of her sweater, trying her best to pull the wet fabric away from her skin, grimacing.

“Olivia, you need to go change right away,” Tracy instructs her, her voice surprisingly calm. “Do you have any extra clothes?”

A flash of worry passes in Olivia’s eyes. “No.”

She immediately looks at Delilah, who gives her an apologetic look, letting her know that she doesn’t have any extra clothes with her either. Instantly, I whip off my hoodie and offer it to her.

“Olivia, go change in the restroom and be sure to wash your skin off thoroughly,” Tracy says. “It should be fine, but if your skin starts to get red or irritated let me know immediately.”

“Come on, Finch,” I say, gently grabbing her arm and leading her out of the lab.

She carefully steps over the dead rat at her feet and follows me down the hall to the nearest restroom, still clutching the front of her sweater, preventing it from touching any more of her skin.

“Are you okay?” I ask, holding the ladies’ restroom door open for her.

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “Thankfully my sweater is pretty thick, so not much seeped through.” She breezes past me, and I go to follow her inside. “What are you doing?” she asks, looking back at me, eyes wide.

“Um, coming to help you?”

She looks at me as if I have two heads. “Bronx, this is the ladies’ room,” she whisper-shouts, like it’s the biggest crime of the century if I step foot inside to help her.

I try my best not to roll my eyes. “Finch, I’m just coming in to help you, people will understand. No one’s even in there anyway,” I point out. “Hello!” I call into the restroom, my voice echoing off the tiled walls of the small space.

Silence.

“See,” I say, my point proven. “I’ll even make sure to lock the main door so no one comes in.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just clean up and change and you can stand outside the door to make sure no one tries to come in.”

I open my mouth to argue but end up shutting it, realizing she may not be comfortable with me being around when she has to change. I think about offering to turn around when she swaps clothes to still try to help her, but decide against it, not wanting to push her or waste any more time.

“Okay,” I grumble.

She gives me an appreciative smile, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss on my cheek before slipping into the restroom. The lock to the main door clicks into place once the door is fully shut, and I lean on the wall right next to the door, my arms crossed over my chest.

In the silence of the hallway I’m able to hear the faint sound of the faucet running behind the door, water splashing as Olivia washes off the formaldehyde that touched her skin.

Standing here, I mull over what just happened, knowing this without a doubt was some sort of petty revenge instigated by Adrianna, which makes my blood boil.

It’s one thing to mess with me, but there’s no way I’m going to allow her to make Olivia’s life a living hell at my expense. I did Adrianna wrong, not Olivia. Adrianna has another think coming if she thinks she can get away with this.

I make a mental note to talk to her later to set things straight.

Down the hall I hear a door open and close, and I peek around the corner to see Delilah walking down the hallway, her dark curls bouncing with each step.

“How is she?” she asks, walking closer.

I give a helpless shrug. “She could be better.”

Delilah frowns, rounding me and the corner to push open the restroom door, only to find it locked. She knocks on it twice, her voice cutting through the wood. “Liv, it’s me. Do you need any help in there?”

“No, I’m okay.” Olivia’s voice drifts from behind the door over the sound of the running water.

Delilah huffs in defeat and I frown, wishing she would at least let Delilah in to help her.

Delilah slumps on the other side of the door, waiting with me.

“What happened in there?” I ask, my tone hushed so Olivia doesn’t hear.

“Malibu Barbie with highlights brighter than the sun totally dumped that rat on her on purpose,” Delilah insists, crossing her arms tightly over her chest with a slight sneer on her face.

I scrub my hands over my face, cursing under my breath. “Fucking Adrianna.”

Delilah lets out a humorless laugh, shaking her head in disgust. “Of course. The classic pretty, popular, mean girl revenge.”

I sigh, unable to argue that. Not that I’m looking for excuses for Adrianna at all.