Date Number Two

The thing about medical school is you ideally get to learn things by organ system. At my school, there are six periodicals (which we call “blocks”) in a year: first is gastrointestinal, second’s cardiology, third comes respiratory, fourth is infectious diseases, fifth is nephrology, and sixth comes neurology. All subject departments are supposed to stick to this schedule, as it seems to have been designed so that students don’t get so mixed up about everything and get to put all the knowledge in one brain compartment. Other subjects tend to sway this schedule, though. Take Surgery, for example. Dr. Anderson’s pediatric cardiovascular surgery schedule was pushed to the fourth block while thyroid masses were tackled during the second. And so on.

I just found out Thursday morning that entering the fourth block, which the whole time I believed to consist of only the dreaded Infectious Diseases lectures, would also mean studying for other topics in other subjects. Obstetrics and Gynecology only allotted one meeting for Infectious; that means there would be tons of other topics after that. And I don’t even want to talk about Ophthalmology. Ugh. This is what I get for never looking past the subject syllabus of the current periodical.

Anyways, Thursdays and Fridays right after exams are usually always just a breeze (like a free weekend spent in school with nothing to do but sit and relax in a classroom), and the real monstrous start of the periodical always arrives after the weekend. This periodical is NOT that. The 8 a.m. lecturer came ten minutes before time (always an ominous sign) and started the lecture on viral infections at 8 a.m. sharp. The doctor had a dull and dead-ish voice (perfect for confidential patient one-on-ones, NOT for big lecture halls) that practically lulled everyone to sleep with their eyes open. I checked the schedule and realized this lecturer would be with us for practically the entire block. And he’s notorious for giving out WTF exam questions. Ugh.

I was so eager to see Luke again just to take a break from the first two days post-exam. The lectures were too heavy and infectious diseases ARE a nightmare. He called me up on Friday about the second date that was going to be on Saturday and said he wanted me to dress comfy with sneakers preferably, and that it was all I needed to know. Right. If that didn’t make me curious and excited to see him, I don’t really know what will.

I was a kid on Christmas come Saturday morning. I had fallen asleep on planning out my outfit mentally last night. It’s not every day that I choose to go out wearing sneakers since I am a heels or flats kind of gal, especially on dates. But Luke did ask me to dress comfy, and I definitely will. I feel like he knows me already since he has seen me off my guard numerous times (especially at school), and he’d know if I tried too hard to look perfect. So I decided I’d go chic and extra-casual this time with my usual minimal makeup.

The moment I woke up, I sprung towards my closet and picked out my perfect go-to dark-washed straight skinnies that made my legs look like they’d go on forever and a white fitted v-neck that bore just how much a fan of Game of Thrones/ASOIAF I was (it may or may not have had the Stark words and sigil). I was tempted to pull out a pair of sneaky high-heeled high-cut sneakers, convincing myself that they should look comfy enough, but deciding against it at the last minute, putting on a pair of grey high-cuts that would put me as close to the ground as possible instead. All of these I prepared before I even managed to make and eat breakfast.

Luke was going to pick me up for lunch, and I was ready to go when he texted to say he was already waiting for me outside. I was wearing black lace underneath (you know, just in case), and I had my hair finger-dried which made it look so appealingly natural. I grabbed my prized leather jacket, my handy black purse, and my keys before I dashed out, locked my doors, and ran down the stairs. My unit was in the third floor of the building, by the way, so it wasn’t that much of a hassle (extra cardio, too, come to think of it!).

I saw Luke standing in front of the building looking at me expectantly, and standing right beside a black Ducati. My eyes were wide as saucers at the sight of that awesomely sexy bike, especially when a good-looking man was standing beside it wearing that same hot leather jacket he wore the last time. I was inwardly rejoicing at my fine outfit and my own leather.

“Who told you I was bringing a bike?” Luke greeted me with a kiss and a hug. “You rough up really good.”

I laughed at that. “Thank you, I guess. You look good, too.”

“You did tell me I looked hot in this jacket,” he said, holding the jacket open and revealing a grey shirt that hung on to his abs so enviously. “Figured I could play that card again,” he smiled sheepishly. “Here.” He handed me a sleek black helmet. I was so loving how lucky I was in picking my look for this date! I was this close to doing some KatnissEverdeen braiding when I finished dressing up too early. Thank goodness I didn’t or I’d be running in the opposite direction! Hahaha!

Luke wore his own helmet which I think looked much more badass than the one he handed me despite the two looking exactly alike. He straddled the big bike and helped me get on the back of it. I had never gone on a motorcycle before because my father had preached on about how “dangerous those things are” when I was a teenager and wanted one for my birthday, but with Luke, I felt I could risk it and it would be safe.

“Hold on tight,” Luke said as he started the bike, and I did, wrapping my arms around his waist, feeling out his washboard abs through his shirt stealthily (the creep in me just could not resist!). As we sped down the road, his scent caught up in my nose and it was intoxicatingly fresh. And I thought, I could do this all day.

“Where are we going?” I asked, almost sure my voice sounded too dreamy.

“You’ll see,” he shouted over the roar of the wind and the motorcycle, with a knowing smile I could almost imagine he was wearing behind that helmet of his. The speed he was driving at was exhilarating, and it made me throw my cares in the wind. I decided I’d forget about what a treat fifth block was for a while and just let myself enjoy the ride and the fact that I was spending it with Luke.

Minutes later, the bike slowed to a stop just in front of a roadside diner. It looked nothing fancy and a bit on the rundown side, and I have to admit I was a bit disappointed. I was under the impression that this date was going to be, well, not on a diner.

“Here we are!” he announced as he steadied the bike and helped me get off, crushing the hopes of maybe we were just stopping for a bathroom break or something. I was even kinda holding onto the helmet on my head, not daring to take it off and hoping this was just some silly joke of his. But he took off his helmet and shook his messy hair into a sexier mess, kicked the bike stand into place, and went right up to me to take my helmet off himself, fluffing my hair like I was a little kid after he did so.

When he finished securing the helmets in place, he took my hand and led the way into the diner. “Wait ‘til you see what we’re up to today,” he said excitedly, smiling contagiously. His enthusiasm made me feel bad about my being a snooty little girl who wanted a decent restaurant for lunch.

Once we were inside, I found that the diner wasn’t exactly that rundown. So much for judging the book by its cover. It was cleaner than most roadside diners I’ve ever been to (not that I have been in many, but I’ve been in enough to say so). He led me towards an inner booth after he rang the bell by the counter. “I came by this gem with my brother. Our car broke down about a mile from here and it was starting to get dark. And we all know that’s how every horror story starts. We practically raced down here, scared out of our wits, and we found the most delicious apple pie there ever was or ever will be,” he finished with a solemn look, just at the same moment a waitress came over to take our order.

“It’s not just apple pies we have here, you know,” the waitress jokingly interjected. She was a blonde twenty-something girl who seemed to know Luke too well. “We have other pies that would taste just as good,” she smiled at me. “Pecan, keylime, and lemon meringue are what’s available right now.”

“No apple pie?” Luke asked, looking disappointed.

“Oh, of course there’s always some for you,” the waitress said. “So it’ll be the usual then?”

“Yes please. For two, this time,” he affirmed with a wide smile as he put an arm around me, totally oblivious about this blondie attempting to flirt with him.

“So, you seem to be a regular,” I smiled at Luke as the waitress sauntered towards the direction of the counter.

“What can I say? I love apple pie,” he answered. “You and Seth are the only ones that know about this place’s awesome apple pies, by the way. And you’re not allowed to tell anyone about it.” His face was so close to mine by the end of that statement, and I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he bridged the gap and kissed me. I melted.

We broke the kiss when the waitress arrived, announcing herself with some awkward throat-clearing. She set us up with two generous slices of apple pie a la mode and a couple big glasses of strawberry milkshakes before leaving us to our own.

“This is your usual?” I asked him incredulously, wondering how usual was usual. His washboard abs made me think it couldn’t be that usual at all.

He only laughed. “I try to come out here at least weekly. Just couldn’t pass this up,” he said gesturing the mouth-watering pie in front of us. “Come on, try it. And tell me it’s the best you’ve ever tried.”

“Is this lunch?” I joked as I forked the legendary pie.

“I thought you didn’t count calories?” he looked at me as though I just ruined everything he had planned for today. Then he smiled. “This is just the starter. It’s bread anyway.” He forked a piece and reconsidered as he chewed to his delight. “Well, there’s the crust.”

I giggled before I decided I should probably try the pie sooner rather than later. It did seem very delicious. And it was! That homemade vanilla ice cream was to die for! Especially with the milkshake! Gah, food-gasm! I was begging for more by the end of it. Luke was enjoying my reaction, too. It was as if he doubted me loving this at all.

I was fake-pouting at the lack of a second serving (I was already prepared to welcome flabs with arms wide open) as we walked to where the Ducati was waiting for us. “I’ll bring you again next time. I promise,” he said as he kissed the top of my head as though he was pacifying a toddler. Then he put my helmet on me and soon enough we were off to the second phase of date number two.

What Happened Last Night

The night at the diner was awesome, and I can’t wait to have that official second date with Luke (even though we’ve essentially gone out a lot already). We walked back to my apartment and I offered that he could “go upstairs for a bit”, which he gladly accepted. He hadn’t even put down my backpack when he started kissing me right after I locked my door, shoving me against it and starting out like a big raging fire. I tried to match the heat, but I think he won that time. Him merely kissing me like that turned me on big time. Then he noticed he still had the backpack and he quickly let it slide down his shoulder, and he laughed at himself in between ravaging me which made me laugh too.

“Sorry about that,” he said once he had calmed himself down (quite disappointingly, really). “I just can’t stop thinking about kissing you like that.”

I blushed and muttered a “thanks, I guess” and walked towards my couch which was too big for one but too tiny for two. He followed and sat beside me. Being so close without being physically distracted had renewed my plant potential.

“I really like it when you blush like that. You look so cute and pretty,” he muttered, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear, and then leaning in for another kiss. This time it was sweet and gentle. And it was on a different level of turn on from earlier and at the same time almost with the same intensity. He tugged at me and I ended up straddling him at some point, not really knowing how I got there. But when things got really heated (both of our shirts were on the floor), he pulled away and practically begged for us to stop.

I was so disappointed and felt really, really embarrassed. I thought I was coming on way too strong, but then it wasn’t long enough before I felt really, really happy. “I, uh, really want this to happen, Samantha. But I don’t want it to be just any other casual thing. I really want to do this right.”

“Um, yeah. Sure.” That was the most awkward response I had ever managed to come up with as I tried to busy myself looking for my shirt. But he seemed fine with it.

“I, uh, can stay for some really hot make out session though, if you won’t kick me out.” He said after a while. He grinned at me fake-naughtily, and I had to laugh. That was some way to ease up the tension.

He ended up spending the night at my apartment which was a bit funny because he didn’t have extra clothes with him and all I had to offer was an oversized white tee that had a huge teddy bear face print in the front. He looked so adorable in it. We cuddled together on my bed (which was not built for two people to share in) until I had fallen asleep.

I woke up the next day with a note at my bedside table that said:

Had to go home and change into my uniform. I’ll call you about that date.–L

When I walked out of my bedroom, the smell of eggs, toast, and fresh coffee greeted me with a sticky note on the coffee maker that said “Hope you don’t mind me going through your food stash!” I was smiling ear to ear until the end of the day, despite learning how cleaning the basement can literally stop your heart and kill you in a way similar to drowning (Infectious Diseases are a nightmare to learn, people!).

Two Papers, One Rock Star, No Scissors

He walked in at the coffee shop fifteen minutes after I said yes to coming over, and just after I had enough sense to at least put on some lip gloss and powder my nose. He was wearing a dark grey v-neck and dark-washed jeans paired with a black leather jacket and dark loafers. Someone could have told me then he was a timid and private rock star who had a huge fan base because of his mysterious eyes and rare smiles, and I would have believed them. He looked so… hot.

I waved at him when he started looking around, and he walked right up to my table immediately, all the while looking at me like I was the only girl in the room. Yeah, he does that so very often and I melt every time. I most probably looked like a ghost with my lack of sleep and dark circles under my eyes, lanky dead-straight hair, and pale skin (from lack of sleep as well). Plus the fact that my eyes were practically glazed from deprived shut-eye.

“Hey, you look nice,” he tried to say with a straight face as he pulled up a chair to take a seat, and I had to laugh. That had to be the biggest overstatement of the year. He looked at me questioningly, and I had to compose myself. He probably thought he said something wrong or whatever.

“Please, you don’t have to make me feel good by false flattery. I know I’ve had better days. I haven’t slept in like 36 hours,” I said without being able to avoid giggling.

He smiled sheepishly at that and then laughed shyly, “I do think you look nice, given the circumstances. But, uhm, you have had, uhm, better days.”

“That’s better. And thank you. I like me some honesty. You look really nice.” He smiled widely at me. “Doughnut?” I offered him some of the half-eaten chocolate-dipped doughnut (I was using a fork to eat it because it was huge and covered with melted chocolate, and I had to type on my laptop at the same time).

“Err, that won’t do. I haven’t really had dinner yet. I’m gonna get myself a sandwich. What would you like?”

“Oh, uhm… there really aren’t any real food for you here, if you’re looking for a decent dinner. What about the diner across the street?”

“Er… are you sure about that?” he asked, looking worriedly at my laptop. And seriously, when would he stop being so cute with the worrying about me?

I smiled widely. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’m done with the other paper anyway. I have to submit two tomorrow. And I’m surprisingly more than halfway with this one. Which doesn’t have to be submitted until five. I deserve a break.” And with that I practically slammed my laptop close and shoved it into my bag, ready to go within a minute.

We crossed the street and entered the diner. It was a quarter past ten, and when we sat down in one of the booths in one corner and had put down our orders with the nice waitress, I had to ask Luke where he had come from because he really did look extra nice.

“Nah, just a party with some work friends. Didn’t turn out so great because I kept thinking about how much more fun it was to just hang out with you, so… I didn’t get to eat dinner there.” He said it so nonchalantly and with a shrug that I couldn’t decide if I was supposed to be touched or really, really touched about it. But I also couldn’t decide if that was, well, too early for what all of this was. “They served a whole lot of yummy hors d’oeuvres and decided to push the big dinner at ten, so that’s why I’m dressed up a bit fancy.”

“Oh. I like this jacket on you. You look so… like a rock star,” I blushed saying the compliment. I meant to say “hot”, but I chickened out.

He looked down at me (he always does because he was like a foot taller than I was) and whispered a soft “Thanks” right before leaning in and starting a full-on make out session. I still can’t believe what a great kisser he was. I was basically clutching on the lapel of his jacket with his hand on the small of my back pressing me towards him and making sure there was no space between us. We were practically out of breath when we looked up to see the waitress with our orders, clearing her throat loudly.

“Sorry,” we both mumbled at her as she put down the fried chicken, cheese fries, corndogs, burgers, and milkshakes. I knew the kinds of food we ordered were coronary artery murder, but who cared? I sure didn’t, and Luke apparently felt likewise. It was comfort food and I loved every bite.

“Wow, I didn’t think you’d actually finish everything,” Luke said in disbelief as we both finally got to slurping at our milkshakes happily. “I’m sorry, but I took you for a counting calories type of girl.”

“Eww. I don’t do that. I don’t even have time to do that.”

“Yeah, I see that now,” he was still in quite a bit of shock. “Where’d you put all of it, though?” he mock-searched my sides, frisking me with his hands.

“In my mouth, down to my stomach, which is so big right now.” I smirked, looking down at my tummy, and we both laughed at how ridiculous our conversation sounded.

“So. Take out your computer already and work on finishing that paper. You said you were almost done,” he said after a while. I laughed because he sounded just like my dad pestering me with my homework back in high school. “Come on. Then I could take you home. You shouldn’t be out in the wee hours of the morning where it’s still so dark out. What if something happened to you?”

“You shouldn’t be out, too,” I shot back at him with a smile. “And I just live a block away.”

“Come on, do the paper already.”

“I can do it tomorrow at school,” I laughingly said. I really could. With my progress tonight (which was so damn surprising), I really could put writing the paper off until tomorrow morning. And yes, that was me procrastinating again. I never learn, do I? But who wouldn’t do the same thing if they were spending some time with someone like Luke?

“Yeah? Because I really want to make out with you right now if you’re not gonna start writing that paper yet.” He was looking at me playfully, those eyes getting darker with boyish mischief.

“I can do it tomorrow at sch –,” I repeated, but was unable to finish what I was trying to say because he had pulled at my hand and kissed me right then. I could still taste the milkshake when I tasted his lips. It was getting so steamy in that booth and there was definitely a lot of groping and petting involved.

“L-Let’s get out of here,” he muttered after a while, catching his breath, and I nodded. He picked up my backpack and held out his hand to help me get up from my seat. When I looked up at him, I laughed. His hair was disheveled and it made his rock star look more believable. But my pink backpack pulled away from that. “What?” he smiled.

“Nothing. You just look really hot with your leather jacket and all, but then you’re wearing a pink backpack, too, so there’s that.” I was giggling by the end of that statement.

“Oh please, I rock this backpack,” he fake-posed with it, and it was so hilarious that we couldn’t stop laughing. The waitress was eyeing us suspiciously. We were acting so carefree like we were drunk and we weren’t even! When I finally stopped giggling and was able to stand up, he pulled out some bills from his wallet and left it on the table before he grabbed my hand. I offered to split the bill but he just waved me away. And he was a very generous tipper. Maybe it was his way of apologizing to the waitress who endured our PDA?

Hell Week Extended Version

Okay, so I mentioned how the 7 days before exam week was called Hell Week, right? Well, exam week wasn’t any better. And the days following exam week aren’t exactly the light at the end of the tunnel either. Why, you should ask? I just learned there were two freaking papers due Thursday, the day right after exams! I mean, what the hell? Can’t they give us a break??

Okay, rant over. I do usually get like this whenever the stress of medical school takes its toll. But I do love medicine and everything that comes with it, and I can’t really imagine myself doing something else. Sometimes I do wonder what I could have been doing if I’d just stuck to my first choice in college which was Chemical Engineering. I know. It’s such a long shot from taking up Medicine. But I had to pick through courses in high school. Exactly how many kids knew what they want for their future while they were in high school, right? Especially when all I was thinking back then was how to bag Valedictorian and the big fat juicy accusations of me being a relationship wrecker. High school, right? So much drama. But that story is for another time.

So, medical school. I should probably tell you that I have wanted to become a doctor since I was a kid. I remember playing with a toy stethoscope and other toy doctor stuff since time immemorial, really. When I finished elementary education, I put in “To be a doctor” as my ambition.

In high school, I attended career talks to figure out what I wanted to do in life, for real. You see, as I grew older, I also grew more conscious about our financial status and the fact that medical school simply cost too much for my parents’ average salaries on top of the private education they were working hard to provide for the four of us (my parents are very adamant with paying for high-quality education).Being a doctor meant four years of pre-Medicine, four years of Medicine, one year of internship, then two to six years of specialization (depending on which one you wanted). So when I had to fill up college forms, I put in a more financially achievable course: Chemical Engineering, five years. My father was an engineer, you see, and engineering is kind of the family go-to course on his side. I also put in other courses as second options with different first options on different colleges, expecting I’d probably only be accepted in one and whichever college and course it was was probably meant for me. But when push came to shove (that is, all schools that I had applied in accepted me), I jumped the gun and just remembered that I wanted to become a doctor (my discovery of House, M.D. and Grey’s Anatomy around that time influenced my decision, too). I talked to my parents about it and they said they were going to support me all the way. So my high school yearbook said “To be an obstetrician-gynecologist” on the ambition part, and now I am working on getting that suffix fixed to my name.

Anyways, Hell Week wasn’t so much of a Hell Week, really. I stayed in the coffee shop near my apartment building most nights, making papers and reading on different subjects (no news there). Usually, I’d feel guilty about using up a table for hours in exchange of only a couple large cups of coffee and some sandwiches, but this coffee shop isn’t really a place for guilt. There were a ton other students there, and most were my schoolmates. Several were ickle firsties (as I’d like to call them) and honestly, I don’t get why they feel the need to study outside all night. I mean, I wasn’t like that during my first year. At all. I usually studied a subject the night before said subject’s exams. Because if I hadn’t made it clear to you yet, I am a huge crammer by nature. And it has worked for me since forever. Sure, there are lots of times I regret not having studied several days before, how I could have covered that trivial question if I had bothered studying in advance, but really, I have maintained academic scholarships by the skin of my teeth with cramming and I never thought it was a bad idea at all. Oh, and BTW studying a week before exams is already cramming at my level: 5 subjects in first year versus a whopping 13 in third year, there’s no surprise there.

There were a couple nights when Luke dropped by at the coffee shop for several minutes after doing some database repair overtime. Or some days when he’d walk me from school to my apartment when our schedules matched. Being with him was always a nice thing for me. It was a real break from everything else, and I very much liked it. We have yet to go on that formal second date though. And he would always remind me that “this is so not the second date yet, I swear” whenever he’d show up with a huge smile on his face.

When exam week finally arrived, I was reduced to a blur. I was always in a hurry every morning (since I cram and procrastinate a lot). No, I wasn’t taking any more cabs. It was the last week of the month and my monthly allowance was almost burnt through from the coffee shop all-nighters and the need for breakfast. I rarely eat breakfast, and I do know that it is unhealthy, but I never make time for it when I lack sleep (which was most of the time) since extra sleep time trumps breakfast in my book. But, since it’s exam week and I need my brain cells to work at top speed and not think of food during the morning exams, I always made it a point to eat breakfast during exam week.

Post-exam hallway huddles were also a thing at our school. I don’t know about other medical schools, but it was a common sight every time an exam was done. People confirming whether they answered (or guessed) the question right, people relaying the difficult and confusing questions, people arguing which choice were the right ones, people pointing out which keyword was the key to which answer, those sorts of things. And when the last day of the exams was done, there were no celebrations (within my batch). There would usually be some binge drinking sessions at someone’s apartment, some embarrassing drunken demeanors that don’t necessarily have to be shared in this blog, and the worst hangover ever the next morning. But since there were 2 papers due the next day which happened to be Thursday (which is now officially the worst day of the week), all celebratory plans have been cancelled.

I had to stay over at the coffee shop again that night just so I could keep myself from falling into a state of coma. My eyes were watering from both sleep deprivation and excessive LCD exposure, and my body kept tingling its shutdown warning every time I tried to rest my eyes for a couple minutes. Seriously, I was thinking it was in Medicine where an irrational fear of falling asleep develops. Anyway, I noticed a text message from Luke a couple hours into my paper making session with a time stamp of a half hour ago. (I forgot I had a phone; that was how out of it I was).

The elevator posts say your exams ended today. Congrats! And get the sleep you deserve. Then, how about that second date?

I smiled and texted him back.

Sorry I replied late. I didn’t notice my phone go off. I have papers due tomorrow, so sleep has to wait even though I need some shut-eye so bad. :( How about this weekend?

You in the coffee place? I could come over.

I texted a quick “Yes and please” and hit send in no time. Luke was going to be the answer to keeping myself awake. I enjoyed his company so much, he has to be the last sure thing that could keep me awake.

A Not-So-Hell-Week-Thursday

Thursdays have a bad rep in my third year book. Thursdays are when there is always a paper due at 8 a.m. And not just any paper, a clinical case a.k.a. imaginary patient that is always so difficult to analyze (read: misleading vague symptoms, multiple possible diagnoses that you can’t pinpoint which one is really the culprit) and make a clinical analysis, diagnostic plan, and management about, that the night before always tends to be an all-nighter just to produce a decent paper on time. (Fine, I procrastinate a lot, but that’s not the case here!)

Anyways, this Thursday is posed to be even worse because it’s in Hell Week (that’s the Thursday to Wednesday before the exams). We’re not supposed to have papers from this subject the week before exams, but the outstanding ER doctor who was supposed to discuss the case last week wasn’t available, did not send out the case on time, and the lecture had to be rescheduled. That’s right, we didn’t have the chance to make the paper in advance which was essentially nothing short of a violation of our human rights! In short, I was awake when Wednesday turned into Thursday, making a difficult paper decent enough to pass.

I was running on empty at the sleep department. I had enough time to shower after I finished, but not enough to chic myself up, and it was so freaking disappointing. Today was Dr. Anderson’s lecture, and I am so not prepared! I had time to run up the two blocks, though, which in retrospect could’ve been better spent applying some makeup instead. But I was trying to cut down on my other expenses since Hell Week and Exam Week really meant having to spend more time outside of my apartment and in more-expensive-than-usual 24-hour diners or cafes in an effort to keep myself from falling asleep. I had to redirect my cab fares.

I was able to arrive and pass my paper on time though, thank God. And by the second period (which had a lecturer who was boring as hell), I was close to entering coma. I survived the horrendous lecture though and instead spent lunch break eating a sandwich for 5 minutes then sleeping the remaining hour off. Needless to say, I was essentially out of it when Dr. Anderson came in and it was so not the way I had imagined it!

I was able to ogle at him though, and I was right about reading his lectures in advance because I could not absorb a thing he was saying. It all just sounded mashed up in my head (even now as I am writing about it). All I absorbed was how good his voice sounds, how cute he looks when he laughs and gestures with his hands, and how hot he looks when he walks around the podium. Anne looked at me several times during the lecture and I could just sigh in response.

By the end of the 2-hour lecture, I was in fantasyland while my classmates filed out of the room. “Ms. Miller?” I heard someone call me, and when I turned to look, I almost died. It was Dr. Anderson and he. Freaking. Knew. My name. There were eighty three students in my class and he knew my name! It was so awesome!

“Doctor?” I answered meekly. Is this really happening? I was fangirling inside! (Not to mention playing a thousand scenarios in my head.)

“I applaud the paper you turned in the last time. Brief, relevant, and to the point. Keep it up and I just might have to request you under my service on clerkship next year,” he smiled.

Oh. My. God. I’d give anything to see that crinkled-eyes-smile everyday for the rest of my life. “Thank you, Dr. Anderson. I am so honored.” I was so sure I was blushing as he turned to leave and my smile couldn’t get wiped off my face by anything.

“Oh my God. What was that?” I heard Anne and Carmen ask. They went off to the girls’ room right after class was dismissed and I was waiting for them. I didn’t realize they saw what happened, but I was almost sure they chose not to enter the room and eavesdrop on me instead while I was busy making a very special memory.

“He just said I wrote a good paper,” I mechanically answered, still shaken by the close encounter with a surgical god a.k.a. man of my dreams.

“Er, are you okay?” Carmen asked, playfully snapping fingers in front of me.

“Dr. Anderson talked to me and knew my freaking name!” I exclaimed with a stupidly wide smile. Damn, that was already something! My inner fangirl was doing a crazy dance.

“Calm down, Miller,” Anne smirked. “But just as promised, I looked. And there was no ring on that finger.”

“My day couldn’t possibly get any better than this!” I gushed. But I was wrong. The minute I got off the elevator with my girls, I saw Luke and he looked gorgeous. He never mentioned he was going to be there after my class and we were just texting earlier. Carmen and Anne mouthed a “we’re going ahead” to me as they walked past Luke and I couldn’t help but smile. These are the times when it just dawns on me how supportive my friends really were. (And I know you guys would totally think me shallow, but it stems on a deeper reason than I can fully explain with words.)

“Hey, you,” Luke greeted me. He wasn’t wearing his blue uniform and was looking good in dark washed jeans and a navy shirt.

“Hi,” I smiled back. “You look nice.”

He laughed shyly at the compliment. “Thanks. I hope you don’t mind me waiting for you here.”

“Uh… why were you?” I was so sure we had set our second date for after exams. Didn’t we?

“Just really wanted to give you this,” – he handed me a paper bag – “I saw it and I had to buy it.” He was smiling sheepishly, almost apologetically, and I found it immensely cute and flattering. What guy gives a girl a random gift in between the first and second dates just because he thought so?

“Gosh, thanks! What’s this?” I asked as I peeked into the bag. It was a huge wide-mouth coffee mug that said “Little Miss Doctor” on it in goofy colorful writing. “It’s so cute! Thank you!” I gushed before hugging him.

“I’ll walk you home, if you want. I mean, if you won’t be taking a cab,” he joked.

I laughed before saying “I’d like that” and going on our way. We talked about random things on the way to my apartment. He asked about my day at school and my exam review progress (he did seem too worried about the “study break” I had with him which was quite adorable), and I asked him how he was getting on at work. When we reached my building, I didn’t want the walk to be over. Something about Luke just made me want to spend time with him more.

“I’ll see you after exams, then,” he said, waiting for me to enter the building while I rummaged through my bag for my keys. I couldn’t help but think that we kissed the last time he walked me here and I was panicking whether he expected us to kiss again or should I kiss him or would he kiss me and all those sorts of things.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.” I was inwardly cursing myself for suddenly being so awkward about everything. Why can’t I just find my damn keys? “Aha!” I exclaimed (quite embarrassingly), actually forgetting myself once I got a hold of the damn keys.

“You’re really cute when you rush,” Luke said and I had to look at him. He was smiling amusedly at me and I knew I was blushing ridiculously. And then he leaned in to kiss me as I had just looked up at him in utter embarrassment. The kiss was soft, unhurried, and almost surreal that I was at a loss for words when it ended.

“And I, uh, really hope I get to do that more often,” he said before I closed the building doors. My smile was practically glued to my face all evening despite studying ER trauma cases.

Flirting Over Coffee

That day on the elevator with Luke and my friends was epic. Luke said hi to me and the legendary teasing went off like clockwork. I was blushing beyond belief which only intensified the teasing even more. Seriously, who would even believe we weren’t still stuck in high school? My friends basically still behave like kids. With adult vocabularies. Haha! When at last we got to the ground floor, everyone started piling out and left Luke and me to ourselves.

“Sorry about that. My friends are really silly sometimes,” I said.

“Can I take you out for coffee or something?” he blurted out all of a sudden, disregarding my embarrassed apology and completely taking me off guard.

“Like a date or something?” I asked, and how very silly of me.

He laughed. (Somewhat nervously, if you ask me.) “Yeah, something like that,” he answered, his stupidly cute grin not leaving his face. I couldn’t say no to that!

And now here I was, spending a weekend afternoon off of studying with an insanely cute guy. I was wearing a cute peach flowy dress that fell short of my knees with my hair up on a messy bun and a pair of beige wedge sandals and he was wearing a grey shirt, dark jeans, and black Chucks. Exams? What exams? (Although admittedly, I had brought study materials with me, hahaha! Because I’m a nerd like that.)

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you had exams this week. You could’ve told me,” he part-apologized to and part-blamed me. It was probably the third time today. He apparently only found out last night from the elevator posts and he didn’t have my number to confirm if the date was okay with my schedule. But really it was. We were just hanging out at this coffee shop near school, which was literally packed with other lower level students from my college, study materials all spread out in front of them. I was able to score a small table for the two of us since I came in early to study for a little bit.

“It’s just like a study break, really,” I told him. Luke was sitting opposite me and our calves kept brushing on each other’s in our cramped space. He smiled shyly before taking a sip from his iced mocha, and you wouldn’t think it was him who had the guts to ask me out. My mind immediately went back to the first time I saw him: he had been sipping from a coffee tumbler then with a smile on his face, too.

Luke was a breath of fresh air, in my opinion. I did not have to talk to him too much about medicine and stuff, and I found that relaxing. Almost everyone I know beyond medical school always had so many medical things to ask whenever I was around: “I have a lump, is this cancer?”, “Can I take this medication with this other one?”, “How many more years are you gonna study it?”, those sorts of things. The conversation Luke and I had that day was so lighthearted and relaxed as if we had been doing that for years.

I found out that I was right, he was indeed an IT specialist who worked at the seventh floor. He was relatively newly hired (still just a couple months) and he previously worked at a smaller company that went belly-up just last month. I complimented his smart strategic move then, and he smiled saying it was all just a stroke of luck: he never knew the old company was running out of gas and it only so happened that a friend had connections with HR that his name was put forward once an opening came through. He mentioned he was kind of worried when he first started working for the hospital since he only ever worked with a small company before, but that he was adjusting with his new work environment quite fine.

He also talked about the first time he saw me: I was getting out of a cab in a great rush (no surprise there), although it was still 5 minutes before 8 in his watch. He remembered because, apparently, I almost bumped into him had he not gotten out of my way immediately, and he had to wait for another elevator because I closed the doors on him. Talk about embarrassing.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry about that! I am never myself when I am in a hurry!” I apologized profusely.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he waved my apologies away. “Employees get to time-in at the hospital ground floor, so you never made me late and there’s no harm done,” he finished with an amused smile, both hands palm up and gesturing with a shrug. How was it even possible for him to get any cuter?

Oh, and we talked about me as well. And I was quite embarrassed to admit that I lived only two blocks away and still had to take a cab. He laughed it off, shaking his head while muttering “rich kids” at the same time. And then I had to explain.

You see, even though I study medicine and essentially everyone in my batch are filthy rich socialites (as is really expected with a top-notch school such as mine), I myself do not come from a wealthy background. My family belonged in middle class and my closet have only ever met Forever21, H&M, and Zara at the best of times. I was an academic scholar (my parents would never be able to afford sending me to medical school along with everything else) and they are barely making ends meet to pay my rent and send me monthly allowances while they send my other three siblings to private schools. Bottomline: I am not rich, and that had to be clear.

Luke seemed taken aback with the passion in my clarification, but he merely shrugged it off and said sorry instead. I had to ask what he was apologizing for and he admitted he didn’t really know, he just felt like he had to, and we both laughed at that.“I am not rich either, so we’re on equal footing here,” he joked.

All in all, I had a great study break with Luke and I was looking forward to seeing him again. He walked me to my apartment building and was cool enough to offer a second date after my exams instead, which I found really, really sweet. Oh, and by the way, we kissed.I was never one for kissing on the first date but I thought those lips weren’t just good for smirking, and I was right. We’ve been texting ever since.

Call the Doctor Very Quick!

“You look really good!” Carmen greeted me as I took the seat beside her. I beamed. My early morning struggle with gel liner paid off. Carmen was a sweet girl and a close friend. She was full-figured, good-natured, smart, and cute. She worked before pursuing medical school, unlike me and Anne who went straight after college graduation, so she is a couple years older than us. She also has a steady boyfriend, Shane, whom she met back when she was still working, and they are simply adorable together.

“Oh I know exactly why,” Anne teased, briefly looking up from her smartphone, an earbud fixed on one ear. I looked over to her screen and saw a video of a Richard Armitage interview playing.

“And here I thought you were studying how to do some suturing!” I laughed, shaking my head as I feigned a motherly kind of disappointment.

“I can learn that later. For now, I need my Richard Armitage dose,” she responded before shushing me.

I was too excited for afternoon to finally come after that. I could not wait to see Dr. Anderson again because I rarely got to see him at the hospital whenever I was passing through. Sure enough, when the Surgery Department secretary walked in, my seat could not contain my excitement. However, the secretary did not arrive to put on the lecture on the computer (which is the usual signal for the whole class to settle down). She walked towards the podium and reached for the microphone instead. “Dr. Anderson can’t come in today. He says he’ll instead compress his two lectures in a meeting next week. You’re dismissed.”

That was disappointing. I came prepared! But oh well, at least there’s something nice to look forward to next week, which is otherwise known as “hell week” because it was the week before exams and it was typically the time when every subject decided they’d need more papers to be submitted and the students didn’t need the supposedly vacant time for studying.

I begrudgingly marched out of the lecture hall and waited for the elevator with my friends. We were a close knit group, and we were not all girls, actually, although I was obviously more attached to the girls in my group. There were eight of us, four girls (me, Anne, Carmen, and Olive) and four guys (Tommy, Jack, Lee, and Chris). Our group was loud whenever we went out, and every lunch or dinner out with my friends was always a lot of fun.

We were the last ones left on our floor then, so the elevator had enough room to accommodate the entire group. The guys were teasing me about my makeup and were jokingly comforting me about the disappointing not-encounter with Dr. Anderson, and I was feigning some disabling disappointment to get along with the jokes. Everybody in the group knew about my not-so-little crush on Dr. Anderson.

Amidst the loud banter, I saw the elevator screen flash a number seven and maintain the display as I felt the elevator stop. I was hoping I wouldn’t run into Luke then because I haven’t told any of my friends about him yet, and well, they’re like kids when it comes to new people. Essentially, my friends would obnoxiously tease anyone of us if they met someone’s acquaintance that they didn’t know and was of the opposite gender. It was amusing, really. If the target was not on you.

The doors opened to reveal no one. As a matter of common courtesy, Tommy (the “leader”/father figure of the group, technically because he was one of the oldies, but also because of his personality) called “going down” at the seemingly empty floor lobby. I was relieved to hear no one answer and to watch the doors close again.

“Sorry!” I heard someone say out loud as I saw a hand slide between the doors to have them open again. It was Luke. Well, at least the day is not going to end on a “sad note”.

In My Dreams

“Guess who’s lecturing tomorrow for Surgery!” Anne said excitedly to me. I knew who it was, and rightly so. I have been waiting for this lecture since the year started.

“I know who it is, so quit dangling the information in front of me, stupid,” I shot her down jokingly. “Seriously, how can I not know about it? I know his clinic hours, for God’s sake. And yeah, I heard how creepy that sounded.” Anne and Carmen laughed with me and my obsession.

Dr. Karl Anderson was my Dr. McDreamy. “McDreamy” because that’s where he belongs: in my dreams. He only ever had two lectures with our batch before, and it was way back during freshman year. The first time I saw him, I was stunned. He was probably twenty years my senior based on his credentials, but he was smoking hot and looked not at all his age. Yes, he had crow’s feet that made his eyes crinkle so adorably and yes, his sideburns are turning gray, but there was something about him that made him so… delicious. He was not tall nor did he seem to have abs that were to die for, but he was lean and hot all the same. And yes, he fit my taste for snobbish looks and kind smiles.

After that first lecture in first year, I went to my computer first thing and went on to activate my mad online stalking skills (I share these skills with Anne, thank you very much). And what I unearthed made him look even hotter in my eyes. Alright, I may or may not have just Googled his name. He was so accomplished, with an established and flourishing surgical practice, doing pro bono cardiovascular surgeries and papers on new surgical approaches on the side just because he can.

The doctor review site I found even had several comments from some of his previous patients who claimed he was compassionate, empathic, and went through lengths to ensure that the patients knew exactly what was going on with their child (oh yeah, didn’t I mention he worked with kids that had heart problems? *sigh*). I belong in the medical profession now and I know now how other doctors usually lack these qualities, which only made me admire him more. Busy surgeons with huge, established, and practically sparkling surgical practices are gods who don’t waste time interacting with patients too much. Dr. Anderson being the kind surgeon who hugged his kid patients after fixing their hearts and took time out of his busy schedule to take pictures with the cute kids just scored himself the title of “man of my dreams”. (The pictures aren’t for advertising. There are pictures of him and his patients online posted in blogs of the children’s parents who gush at how compassionate he is!) And he would be lecturing tomorrow which meant free creepy ogling time for me! I figured I would just do some advanced reading tonight since I probably would just be swooning and sighing all over him tomorrow, imagining dirty and naughty things that started with “Doctor, I have a problem”. I know, I’m creepy as hell.

The next morning, I was rushing once again. I woke up early despite having to finish an entire chapter on congenital heart diseases, mind you, but I figured I wanted to look extra special today since I was going to see Dr. Anderson and I wanted him to see a pretty face if ever he looked to my direction later this afternoon (fingers crossed!). I put on some eye liner and mascara on top of my usual cheek tint and lip gloss, and admired my chic look in the mirror before I noticed that I was almost running late (putting on eye liner was NOT my thing and it was an effort to get them to look perfect).

I had to flag a cab to get to school, and saw the elevator doors about to close when I got to the lobby. “Please hold!” I cried, desperately wishing the person inside would hear me. The other two elevators were high up, and it would probably take away minutes of my time waiting for another one. “God, thank you!” I said aloud gratefully once I saw the doors reopen.

It was Luke inside, smiling widely at me as he pressed the elevator button with a finger.“’Morning!” he greeted as I walked in, blushing ridiculously.

“’Morning,” I mumbled back. I can’t believe he is seeing me again on a great rush!

“You look different,” he said as the doors closed, his eyes staring at me like I was the only girl in the room. (Well, yeah, I was the only other person in the elevator, but you know what I mean). I smiled shyly at him, not knowing whether the statement was a compliment that I should thank him for. That was typical me, shutting down whenever I was in the vicinity of someone I liked a lot. My friends and I had a name for it, since both Anne and I have it. “Plant potential”. Because we practically shut down like mere ornamental plants in a room whenever someone we were really attracted to walks in; we just stand there and forget what to say due to severe nervousness. We both recognized it was absurd.

We reached IT guy’s – er, Luke’s – floor in awkward silence after that. “I like what you did with your eyes,” he said to me before getting off. I think I managed to mutter a thank you on his way out, and I think I saw him smile again before the doors closed.