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.