Elevator Rides Are Fun

I was waiting for the elevator to open up at the ground floor, sighing frustratedly at how long it seemed to be taking at the first years’ floor. These freshmen need to learn how they are not going to fit all of them in one elevator ride, I begrudgingly thought. The weight limit warning had already buzzed twice and the elevator has yet to leave their floor. There’s three elevators in the building, for God’s sake, why do they keep on trying to cheat the system?

I knew I was being a bitch despite knowing that most first years in medical school did tend to flock together in big groups. Heck, my friends and I still flock together, but I guess I have more respect for other people’s time now than I did when I was in first year: other people are waiting for elevators to come down!

I sighed loudly once again, crossing my arms against my chest, and immediately regretted my bitchy attitude when I looked around me. There was another guy waiting for the elevator as well, holding up a coffee tumbler to his mouth and looking at me with an amused smile. I smiled awkwardly back at him, knowing full well that my face was too red of embarrassment. My bitch moves were really more of an introverted thing, and they only show up whenever my niceties run out, which is not very often but usually coincides with paper deadlines.

This guy clearly did not go to my school. He was not wearing a white uniform. Instead, I surmised he was one of the hospital’s IT specialists since he was wearing the navy blue uniform and the IT office was in my school’s building (for reasons unclear, really). He looked cute and clean with a snobbish look, mysterious eyes, sexy jawline, and windswept hair that made hisamused smile look a lot hotter. I liked snobbish-looking guys who looked like they just got out of the shower every time. This guy was it and it made waiting for the elevator a lot more bearable.

When at last the elevator opened up, I couldn’t help but send out an exasperated look at the freshmen who were getting out of it. They looked troubled and apologetic at that and I was satisfied. There is a pecking order in this profession and I was technically their superior, and I played out that card every now and then to those who deserved it.

IT guy gestured for me to get to the elevator first and so I did. Plus points for being a gentleman, I thought. He followed me inside, stood across the elevator buttons, and pushed seven. Yup, definitely an IT guy. “Where to?” he asked, turning his head fractionally towards me.

“Eighteen, please. Thanks,” I said meekly as I watched him push the button. Darn it, I always get so shy around guys that I like. Awkward silence was awkward! The only sound I could hear was the soft hum of the air shaft above.

When the elevator opened up at the seventh floor, he turned to me and pushed the hold button, extending a hand. “I’m Luke, by the way. It’s so nice to see you not in too much of a rush at last. It’s always difficult to get an elevator ride with you.” He smiled.

“Samantha,” I almost stammered as I shook his hand. He was too cute when he smiled!

“See you around, doctor,” he said with awide smile and waving two fingers like a salute or something. I was sort of stunned as the elevator doors closed.I’ve always had this weird stand that confident guys who had the guts to talk to a random stranger were cocky (I know, it’s stupid. My friends think so, too). But I strangely didn’t think this Luke was cocky at all. In fact, I was flattered.It was the first time I saw him, but apparently it wasn’t the first time for him. Gosh, now I was self-conscious of how I looked whenever he saw me rush past. I just hoped I looked decent enough.

The Great Rush

I was hurriedly preparing for the day. I was running late for class. Again. My bed is just severely inviting these days, what with the stacks of papers to write and the other stacks to read and “familiarize” (read: memorize forever), my nights have started to become days as well. Heck, I was simply in over my head this month with due dates and exams.

I am a third year medical student. That’s right, I know how to do physical exam and explain what diseases you have, but I won’t talk about that. This year is the hardest yet, and here I thought second year was the worst hoop to get through (someone falsely led me to believe so!). I go to a college connected to a widely known hospital, locally and internationally (not to brag). And I am running late for my morning class.

I looked at the clock again, read 7:58 a.m. and wished for time to go slower. My hair was still dripping wet and I had to grab my towel again to at least get some of the water out before I went off to my daily exercise routine: jogging from my apartment, out of the compound, and into the street corner to flag a cab. Yes, I take a cab nearly daily now to get to a school that was only two blocks away. I used to walk ten minutes to get there, and my weekly allowance is taking the hit from cab fares. Ugh, time is just not my friend these days.

In some manner of miracle, a neighbor was just getting off his cab (I am NOT a friendly hey-how-are-you-doing-type of neighbor) so I flagged it and muttered a hurried and awkward “Hi!” at the guy before declaring my destination to the cab driver. My neighbor was cute, but I had no time to dwell on it right now, really. The cab driver seemed surprised at my drop-off site but I gave him a look that said “I know it’s near enough but just shut up and step on the gas” and we were off. I came to class at 8:05 a.m. looking smug. The elevator was practically waiting for me and no one was riding with me to get off at other floors.Plus, our lecturer has yet to arrive.

“You’re early enough,” my friend Anne greeted me as I laid my stuff beneath my armchair beside hers. We consider ourselves early whenever we arrive before the doctor did. Anne is a hot,genius, well-mannered bombshell who made me think twice about being straight and made me look like Plain Jane. If I were to somehow discover that I was actually a lesbian, I was definitely gonna be all over her. She is really pretty and makes most guys’ heads turn.The only flaw I could think about her was her unruly hair, but that easily gets fixed with a single trip to the salon. The minute I saw her on Orientation Day, I thought I would die if all of my classmates were this hot. But she hasn’t had a boyfriend ever with her high standards and tendencies to secretly swoon over the unreachable guys (read: married doctors, engaged residents, Richard Armitage, haha!).

“Thank God. I’m trying to turn over a new leaf,” I said. I was more often late than not these days. And it’s not good to have a bad rep like that in medical school. To be honest, I’m just grateful the doctors haven’t picked up on my tardiness yet, and I have no plans on them figuring it out.

“You say that all the time, but your rep’s a picket fence pattern,” Anne laughed, referring on a fever pattern we just learned yesterday. We usually build our jokes on medical stuff, and we get weird looks on restaurants and cafes when we do so. “One week you’re the early bird, the other you’re Miss Tardy.”

I just rolled my eyes at her at that because the doctor had already arrived and was already putting up the lecture on the computer. Anne was kinda right. Exaggerating, but right. Ugh, I needed to get my rep straight ASAP. On a side note, my other friend Carmen had yet to arrive. The two of us were usually the late ones, but she had a better excuse: she lived far enough and I didn’t. But I was secretly proud of myself at beating her on time anyways. Pathetic, I know.