Page 26 of The Chemistry Test

Cam

It’s my third week in a row going to seminars and labs, and from what I can tell, it seems like I got my act together just in time.

Genetics is starting to get intense. So much so that it’s making me wonder if it’s been a blessing in disguise doing first year over two years like this.

It really feels like this one class is taking up all my time, although I also believe in Parkinson’s law, the concept that work expands to fill the time allotted to complete it, so, maybe it’s just taking more time because I have more time.

Either way, the workload somehow feels exactly the same as the four classes I took last year.

When I sit down, ready for today’s seminar, Penny’s already there. I’m never early enough to see people go in, but it doesn’t surprise me that she’s one of the first. I take my jacket off and hang it on the back of my chair.

‘Today’s the day!’ she chants, manoeuvring her wheelchair to give me more room.

I raise my eyebrows. I have no idea what she’s talking about.

‘We finally find out the coursework topics today,’ she says, turning towards me as I sit down. ‘Honestly, what a tease having it on Moodle with a time and date restriction!’

Oh. That. Surely she’s not excited about coursework too.

Except, of course, she is. She doodles on the corner of her nameplate and looks at the clock every thirty seconds or so, waiting for Michael to arrive.

The restriction she’s talking about will be lifted in just under an hour, either way, but I don’t think she wants to hear that right now.

‘Of all the days to be late, he had to choose today,’ she huffs, seconds before he strolls through the door. She gives me a panicked look, questioning whether he heard her or not.

‘You’re good,’ I say, as Michael takes off his coat.

He logs on to the computer and explains how the projects will work before, much to Penny’s delight, putting the topics on the board.

We’ll work in pairs to study a range of papers on our chosen topic, and then make a scientific poster summarising all the key points.

I did one in my Enzymes and Metabolism module last year, so I know what we’re in for.

And I know calling it a ‘poster’ is the euphemism of the century – like calling an exam a quiz. Or calling raisins sweets.

Still, at least I know the drill this time. I skim over the topics. They never mean that much at this point anyway since it’s all new content. There’s literally no way to know which ones are the ‘good’ ones until you get started.

‘Do you want to work together?’ I ask, even though we don’t have much of a choice by the looks of it. Everyone else is already in an unspoken, yet obvious, pairing.

She looks around the room and seems to come to the same conclusion before replying. ‘Sure. Which ones are standing out to you?’ She reads through the brief again. ‘I know which ones I prefer, but we need one we’re both interested in.’

‘Well ...’ I read them again too, trying to figure out what words are jumping out at her. The headings may as well be written in Latin as far as I’m concerned.

Penny, on the other hand, is jotting down notes next to all of them, underlining key words and writing definitions like her life depends on it.

She clearly loves this sort of thing, yet she’s markedly less enthusiastic than before the seminar started.

I want it to be because of the lacklustre topic choices, but given her notes, I don’t think the list is lacklustre to her.

And I can’t help thinking the palpable drop in enthusiasm is because she’s been paired up with me.

‘I like them all,’ I say finally. She should definitely get to pick the topic if she has a preference. Especially if one of them relates to EDS or POTS in some way and I’m just missing the link. Plus, I feel like getting to choose the topic is exactly the sort of thing that will cheer her back up.

She frowns at me. Literally, frowns. Oof. Not quite the reaction I was hoping for. ‘Are you just saying that to be polite?’ she says. ‘Because you can say if there’s one you really do or don’t want to do.’

‘I genuinely would be happy with any of them.’ I mean, happy is pushing it, but I really don’t mind any of them.

‘I was kind of hoping we could do the Biochemistry of IVIG one,’ she says, biting her pen lid. ‘I have friends online who are on IVIG.’

‘IVIG it is,’ I say, making a mental note to google it when I get home.

She claps her hands excitedly. That’s more like it – I don’t think I’d ever get bored of seeing her do that, no matter what it’s about. ‘It’s a really good topic, actually. Do you know what it is?’

‘Yeah,’ I say, but Penny doesn’t respond. Instead, she just looks at me expectantly, letting the silence stretch on. ‘Well, sort of,’ I say eventually. ‘I know it stands for intravenous ... something or other and that it’s some sort of a ... treatment for ... something .’

She bites her lip, eyes crinkling. ‘I mean, you’re not wrong.’

Instead of googling it when I get home, Penny explains it to me in the car as we head to my place.

I think she’s bothered about being paired up with someone who’s missed most of the classes and wants to get me up to speed herself.

And she also wants us to start early anyway since she doesn’t know how she’s going to feel in the upcoming days and weeks.

When we get in, I open a chicken and beef kitten sachet (which I finally managed to switch out from the baby food) and give Penny the spoon.

‘Actual kitten food!’ she says, ruffling the fur on Callie’s head as she climbs on her lap. ‘It’s almost like you’re a real cat now,’ she laughs, patiently untangling Callie’s paws every time she kneads her cream cardigan. She stretches out the fabric to fix the loose threads.

‘Sorry about that,’ I say, trying to get Callie to stop, even though Penny doesn’t seem bothered by it.

‘It’s okay, she’s just working on her baking skills,’ she says, suddenly snuggling into her.

She clearly has a soft spot for Callie, and I wonder if it’s because she can relate to her in some way.

Or maybe not relate, but perhaps empathise with her more than I can.

I don’t ask about it though, in case I’m completely off the mark, especially since everyone has something of a soft spot for her.

I mean, with a fuzzy Ewok face like hers, how could you not?

But I do wonder if it influences how Penny interacts with and views her at all.

By the time we sit down at the table to start working on our poster, Penny’s holding on to the sides of her chair and taking really deep breaths.

She says she wants to continue, but she looks so unwell that I offer to drop her home instead.

And she agrees to it ‘just this once’, as if I’m the one being inconvenienced by all this.

Truth is, we have plenty of time before the deadline, so I’m not worried about it. And even if I was, I don’t think it’s worth getting ill over. It might not be to her standard, but if I have to take over certain parts, I have more than enough time to do it.

When I get home, I start telling Gran about it all silently in my head, as I pack up the explosion of textbooks Penny left behind.