tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13035733810463598842024-02-20T14:40:12.059-08:00Love and All Those Other DrugsSamantha is a 22-year-old third year medical student who remains optimistic at juggling relationships with the chaos that is medical school. She still dreams of a man who would sweep her off her feet the same way studying Medicine always does. Sometimes even literally. (This is a fictional blog.) Schedule pending.Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-11068164443671715922015-05-10T07:56:00.000-07:002015-05-10T07:56:12.554-07:00SOMETIMES, MEDICINE SUCKS<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I woke up today, thanking God tomorrow was gonna be a free weekend. No
papers, no assignments. Because I managed to finish everything last night with
Luke in the background. Tomorrow, I plan to conquer every freaking transcription
ever posted, and then some. And then I’d get to spend the entire Sunday with
Luke.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I showered leisurely, knowing I had all the time in the world because
I woke up early enough. When I was ready to go, I had enough time to walk and
even get myself a nice cup of coffee. All was well.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I arrived at school with five minutes to spare and saw Luke there,
waiting for me by the elevator. He waved a little at me, and I gave him a nice
bright and shiny smile.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I missed you,” he muttered as he gave me a peck on the cheek.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Ditto,” I replied as I drank in his scent, inwardly laughing how
ridiculous missing him was. We were together just last night!<o:p></o:p></div>
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We went straight to his apartment after we both got out of school and
work yesterday. I needed help staying awake for all the papers I needed to
finish and he did just that while he watched TV and ate pizza. We have, just
last night, become that kind of couple.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He wanted me to stay the night but I wanted to go back to my apartment
remembering we still had to slow things down a bit. I wanted to take a cab, but
Luke said he couldn’t let me “drive off with a stranger at this late hour”. So
we sped off at eleven in the evening on his Ducati as he dropped me off at my
building. It was physically impossible to not let him upstairs, but I had to
make him go home. And I slept well that night, hence the good start I was
having today. But I missed him. And apparently the man missed me, too. <i>Sigh.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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Luke never poked at me about my dinner with Casey either. I texted him
when I got home that night and all he asked was, “Had fun?” I said yes, she’s
awesome with multiple exclamation points to convey my enthusiasm, and that was
that about the Casey dinner at Cabeza. And everything has been going on
extremely fine. <i>Sigh again.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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The elevator doors opened, and we filed in along with the other
students. We were both stuck at the back but we didn’t mind. I looked up at him
and saw he was looking down on me, and I felt his hand on mine, and I thought
this day might just be one of the best ones.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The students thinned out slowly, ickle firsties and sophomores, floor
after floor, until it was only Luke and I going up three more floors to where
my class was gonna be. It was one of his “things” that whenever we went
together, he’d see me off before he went to work.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I’ll see you later,” he murmured behind my ear just a little after he
kissed me. It was such a common phrase but he managed to make the hairs on my
neck prickle by the way he said it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was smiling dreamily when I entered the classroom. Which happened to
be in silent chaos. “What’s up?” I asked Anne as I occupied the seat next to
her. I had to give it to her, she was already busy reading transcriptions this
early in the morning.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Literature reviews for clinical research due on Monday. No extension,”
she blankly answered, not even bothering to look up from her tab.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“You’re kidding me, right?” I asked with wide eyes. I didn’t even have
a decent topic yet!<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Do I look like I’m freaking kidding? I’m freaking out!” Anne said,
showing me her tablet screen. She hadn’t been reading transcriptions. Article
after article were opened in her browser’s tabs. And she had it by the dozen at
my estimate.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Did your group get your topic approved already?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“No. They’re gonna do the approvals later this afternoon.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“During the afternoon class?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“How are we even gonna be able to swing that?” I asked in revolt, but
took out my laptop nonetheless. The class had been divided into groups, and
each group member was to come up with a research topic and a justification for
choosing that topic. The research topics will serve as a pool for the entire
group to choose from with the help of our research adviser. In the end, only
one topic will be pursued by the entire group. And the topics were scheduled to
be submitted <i>next </i>Friday. UGH!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anne merely shrugged her shoulders with a roll of her eyes. “The one
day I decided not to bring my laptop with me,” she muttered darkly before going
back to facing her tablet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Not mere minutes later, the lecturer had arrived. Most everyone had
been busy with their laptops even before class started. And I would bet you
anything, the majority of my classmates were busy consolidating their research
topics for this afternoon’s presentation, not typing away lecture notes. I was
certainly part of that majority.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The lecturer droned on and on about the different types of anxiety
disorders and their symptomatic presentations. Yeah, well, at least that’s what
it said on his title slide. Fifteen minutes into his distracting monotony (I
could not string a decent sentence together for my research topic
justification!), I decided I had to set up camp somewhere else. I tapped Anne’s
wrist, told her I’ll just be in the library, and artfully sneaked out of the
classroom (with my laptop) unnoticed. I never paid attention in any of the
Psychiatry classes, anyway.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I took the stairs to go down two floors, lest the lecturer (or his
secretary) decide to find themselves where the elevator doors were. Then I rode
the elevator the rest of the way. Our library occupied an entire floor and it
was generally empty at this time of day since everyone supposedly had class. I
occupied my favorite corner table – the one far from traffic but near a window
– and started to set my computer up. Five minutes after I had started typing
away, I saw Anne walk in, looking for me. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one
being distracted by the walking monotony that is my Psychiatry lecturer.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“This fucking sucks,” Anne declared as she sat across me, wanting to
slam her tablet on the table but catching herself last minute. If she destroyed
her tablet, she’d be done for. Or, well, she’d be stuck with the library
computers which had a knack of shutting down in the middle of important work
(true story).<o:p></o:p></div>
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“I was really hoping for a weekend off. Luke and I had plans,” I
shared her sentiment. Luke did want to go out and finish the rest of our second
date that we didn’t get a chance to do since we both wanted to go home so bad
last time (wink, wink). “He had been so looking forward to it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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“And I was planning on a marathon of <i>North and South</i>,” Anne said, rolling her eyes in angst. She was
referring to the mini-series where, wait for it, Richard Armitage plays the
lead. That got me laughing in amusement.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Didn’t you watch that already?” I asked, still unable to rein in the
giggles.<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Fine, re-marathon. I miss him already and his raised voice and cool
temperaments,” she sighed and then laughed too. “Anyways, that is obviously not
gonna happen now. Thanks to these inconsiderate research people. Ugh!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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We ended up staying in the library and foregoing lunch altogether to
finish the justifications for our research topics. I was not greatly attached
with my topic but it had to do. I just had to be able to pass something for our
research group’s topic pool. If it ends up being scrapped, I don’t really care.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My Clinical Research class ended early. Half of our group’s research
topics were scrapped. Mine wasn’t lucky enough to be eliminated early. It ended
up being one of the three topics on temporary approval for group research. And
that meant I had to produce a literature review for it over the weekend. (<i>Fuck!</i>).<o:p></o:p></div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-20831592820033411392015-05-04T07:31:00.001-07:002015-05-04T07:31:16.243-07:00The State of the Family<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh, I already love how honest you are,” Casey said after laughing for
a bit. “You seemed so very shy the last time, I wasn’t so sure how to reach out,
really.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Well, meeting the older brother does things to the nerves,” I quipped.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“Especially when that older brother is Seth,” she winked. “So tell me,
did Luke explain things to you afterwards?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“Yeah, he did. Sort of.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“If you ask me, he should’ve told you before, not after. For the
record, <i>I</i> had told <i>him</i> that,” Casey said without
reservations, sounding much like a disapproving older sister. “I even thought you
already knew that time. Figured I was wrong in the middle of eating the
ravioli, but I couldn’t just pull you aside so soon.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“It’s all good. I mean, you didn’t even have to, and I totally
appreciate how you did,” I answered shyly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“Just so you know, I totally agree that Seth was an ass that night. I
even told him that,” Casey said with conviction.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I laughed. I thought I would be surprised to hear it, but I wasn’t. In
a short span of time, I already knew Casey was as straightforward as anyone
could get.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“I already asked him to behave better the next time. Told him you
seemed way better than that bitch Luke almost married.” The animosity in her
tone was only too palpable when she referred to Luke’s infamous ex.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh, so you knew her, too?” I tried to sound disinterested, but
obviously I was curious. And here was an opening.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Of course. Like I said, Seth and I have known each other since
medical school. When Luke introduced that girl to the family, I already had
that icky feeling that something fishy was going on with her. But I never said
a word because, really, who am I to do so, right?” She paused to nibble on a
tortilla before she continued on. “Anyway, I wasn’t wrong in the end. Well,
three years later, anyway,” she shrugged her shoulders.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I gave her a look that said “please elaborate” and she willingly
obliged.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“When Luke told Seth he wanted to marry her and asked him to help him
buy a ring, Seth knew he had to be the protective older brother. He only ever
wanted to know if the girl was ready to get settled in the financial department
– she was not – but he stumbled on something else along the way. Seth only
became so hell-bent on figuring things out with her when he posed a theoretical
question regarding pre-nups, and she shut Luke down for days on end in response.
And that was before Luke was even able to propose. Thank God he never had the
chance to.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“W-What was the dealbreaker?” I mumbled, not knowing if I even wanted
to hear the answer.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“It’s a jumble of things, really. Credit scores, for one. God-awful
credit scores. Cheating on Luke. And a kid on the side <i>with the</i> <i>cheatee </i>whom she
passed off as her bestfriend.” My eyes widened fractionally at that one. “That
girl was the worst decision Luke ever made and he knows it. But the period
between when he didn’t know yet and when he did wasn’t exactly a walk in the
park. Not for him. Not for everyone in the family…” Casey paused, her voice
lingering quietly as she let the statement sink in.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“What do you mean by that, exactly?” I meekly asked, urging her to
divulge more.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“What has he told you about it?” she asked, clearly treading the
waters before letting on a figurative bomb.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“That he threw away everything after what she did and that everything
went really bad with him after,” I recounted.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“That was a very good synopsis,” Casey said approvingly, her lips
curling into a very tight smile. “But very broad, don’t you think?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I had to nod lest there be no more stories to hear.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“He became a nomad. He left everything here and disappeared. He called
before he got on a plane to Europe, though, asking us not to bother him for a
while because he wanted to be alone,” she shrugged her shoulders at that, “And
after that, all we could trace him for were his credit cards being swiped at
this country and that. That was basically how we knew he was more probably
still alive.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I had to wait a few more seconds before Casey could continue. She
seemed suddenly lost in thought, and I figured maybe she was reimagining how
things had been before.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Their mother, Amelia, was distraught more than everyone else but we
all knew better than to come after Luke. Henry wanted to swoop in and drag him
back home, but he got vetoed by the two doctors in the family. Three, since he
gave me a vote, too, when he realized he was being overruled by his wife and
son,” she smiled faintly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I smiled, too, at the tiniest amusing thing in the story.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“We gave the grieving period three months. We knew Luke had to go
through it. And we hoped he’d come back recovered soon enough.” She paused a bit
to sip from her glass. “But we were wrong. He was gone for more than a year,
and we had no idea what he did to himself at the time. Three months passed and
we all wanted to intervene. God knows just how worried Henry and Amelia were,
but we all knew it was a lost cause and that even if we tried, we knew it would
just make Luke want to hide himself better. And we didn’t want to lose what
little information we could get about him, so we waited it out.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“When did he decide to come back?” I asked curiously, afraid of what
the answer might be. My mind was already picturing several scenarios of Luke in
his lowest, and I couldn’t help it. My head was spinning, and my overactive
imagination wasn’t helping.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“He just called Seth one day asking him to fly out and get him out of Amsterdam
as soon as he could. We knew where he was exactly and Seth couldn’t have been
on a plane sooner. I wanted to come with him but Seth said he knew it had to be
just him or he’d never get his little brother back.” She paused, trying to
gauge my reaction. I was waiting for her to tell me what happened next. “Seth
was gone for two weeks. And then they were back home. Luke looked terrible
after being on a mission to self-destruct for eighteen months from what I’ve
heard, and Seth looked miserable having to explain to the family about Luke’s
situation. Seth never hated the bitch more than he did the day he saw Luke in Amsterdam.
I never hated the bitch more than the day I saw the brothers back home.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I didn’t appreciate the fast-forward to Luke coming home, but I
understood how the information might be too private. That maybe it was up to
Luke to tell me what exactly happened on his own time. I fell quiet, realizing
I was dating a broken young man who broke himself consciously.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You must be reevaluating your choice of dating Luke, thinking it’s a
bad idea,” Casey said matter-of-factly after a moment of quiet observation. “I
would, too, if I were in your shoes. But I have to tell you one thing. You
never knew that bitch and how good she was in playing Luke. Damn, she was good.
She played all of us. And for that, she broke him. But he’s whole now, we all
made sure of it. Only Seth fails to recognize that.” She sipped her drink once
again. “Even their parents have moved on.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
And just like that, the loaded conversation ended. A long silence came
from my end. Clinks of the iced beverage came from Casey’s. It had to look
awkward, because it felt like it. It felt as though a compendium of secrets had
been opened before me and I was so overwhelmed that I didn’t know exactly what
I should do from there.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“So that’s basically what you stumbled on when you met Luke,” Casey
said after a while, a wide smile on her face as though she didn’t just tell me
the most serious thing ever. “And I really want you to stick around. I really
like you.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
And at that moment, from those words, I actually knew that despite
everything she had just told me, I still wasn’t going anywhere. There’s an out.
Somewhere between those lines, there was an out. Just like what Luke did
before. They were giving me an out. But I just wouldn’t take it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
The dinner went on normally after that. We chatted about medical
school. About just how much of a culture shock second year was. And about how
little the second year coverage was in comparison to third year. She shared
with me some funny medical clerkship anecdotes of her own along with some
survival tips… until we both decided it was late and we had to go home.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
She gave me a ride in her white Mini Cooper she was driving herself
(how cute is she??) and dropped me off at my building with an “I’ll see you
around, yes?” and a nice big smile from me. I can’t even believe she was years
older than I was. She seemed so lighthearted about things. She wasn’t like
other doctors who lived and breathed the definition of hierarchy. She was
definitely way up the societal ladder being a medical consultant and all, but I
never even once felt like there was a barrier between us. And I liked it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Now if only Seth could do the same, everything would be lovely.<o:p></o:p></div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-69663554582584004262015-05-04T07:29:00.000-07:002015-05-04T07:29:11.421-07:00My ApologiesHello. Anyone there still?<br />
<br />
So I left this blog hanging more than a year ago now and essentially just put it at the back of my mind. I am terribly sorry. I started medical clerkship and things got really hectic for me. Not to mention I went through a really bad breakup with my boyfriend of six years while I was in the middle of the most toxic rotation in the hospital. I couldn't really make myself write this lovey-dovey, bright and shiny fictional couple while my real lovelife sucked so bad and I was so bitter with everything.<br />
<br />
I swear every month I tried. I sat in front of my computer and figured out what happens with these two. I had it in my mind but the words wouldn't pour out like it used to. Or it would but it would all read as detached and soulless and bitter to me rather than being light and contenting like it did before. And I didn't want that. I never logged in to my dashboard also. Because I never had a finished piece to post. So then I brooded over my loss, produced a different story that was dark and twisted in my mind and began writing that instead. (The detached and soulless and bitter writing worked with that storyline and the words poured.)<br />
<br />
So it may sound like I'm playing the pity card here so that my year-long AWOL mishap may be forgotten. But I just figured I needed to explain myself. And if you'd have me again, I am back in the Sam and Luke business.<br />
<br />
Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I really hope you guys would still read on. I would really appreciate it.Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-25440783845660984212014-04-03T05:23:00.000-07:002014-04-03T05:23:32.945-07:00Opposites Do Attract“How did it go?” Carmen asked over lunch. It was just me and the girls again. Jack had lunch with his parents, Chris had an org thing, and Tommy and Lee had school council. I was supposed to go to the council meeting, too, but they didn’t really need me there so I decided to just spend lunch with my girls instead.<br />
<br />
“Awfully surprising,” I answered with a straight face, choosing my words very carefully to sum up the entire talk I had with Luke yesterday.<br />
<br />
“How are we supposed to know whether that was good or bad?” Anne chimed in with a frown.<br />
<br />
“Well, we are good now. But something weird happened along the way,” I supplied. I had battled with myself whether what happened yesterday was something I’d like to share with the girls so soon. I am actually quite the private person when it came to stuff like these. But my need of assurance prevailed over my need of privacy at the moment.<br />
<br />
“Spill it, Miller,” Anne said after a moment’s pause on my end. That’s Anne for you. No-nonsense. Straight to the point. It’s what I actually love about her.<br />
<br />
“Well. In the middle of explaining things about what Seth did and about how he acted over the horrendous dinner, Luke actually said he loved me.” My voice had grown tinier and tinier as I reached the end of that sentence. Just the faintest reminder of that moment sent my nerves tingling and cringing and what-not. And my friends did not disappoint either. They all cringed almost in unison.<br />
<br />
“Oh. My. God. I would not have picked him for that type of thing,” Olive whispered in shock. Olive was a very opinionated person and she makes herself heard when given the chance. Her commentaries, admittedly, are entertaining for the most part and very brutally honest. Like right now.<br />
<br />
“Me neither,” I agreed solemnly. “But it was just a slip, though. He wanted to take it back. But of course he couldn’t. And he offered me an out, which obviously I didn’t take. So there’s that, too.” I didn’t know who I was trying to convince at that point, but I could see clearly that I hadn’t sold the idea well despite my uber-defensive way of explaining things.<br />
<br />
“Well, I say if you’re comfortable enough to let it slide and go with it, then I fully support your judgment,” Carmen said with an encouraging smile. And that was really all I needed to calm myself down completely. Carmen was the type of person whose opinion you would really value. She knew just what to say in any situation and how to say it.<br />
<br />
Anne remained quiet although she looked as if she wanted to say something. She tackled her veggie panini instead and busied herself with finishing her lunch. I knew exactly what that meant. She had nothing nice to say and would only say things if invited to do so. I was scared to ask her about it, knowing my confidence about staying with Luke was still faltering, so I also just shut my mouth and finished my lasagna.<br />
<br />
The topic didn’t resurface in our conversation as we all complained about how wide the scope was for this block and how impossible it was to tackle it. And that went on until lunch break was over. On our way back to our classroom, my phone beeped obnoxiously loud. And twice. The hallway was severely quiet that the beep of my phone visibly destroyed its serenity. People trying to catch up on reading assignments and loitering the corridor were literally startled. I apologized loudly and embarrassedly took the phone out of my pocket as I realized I forgot to put it on silent mode that morning. I was surprised to see both were actually texts from Casey, Seth’s lovable fiancée who made me believe in the theory of “opposite attraction”.<br />
<br />
Hey, Samantha! Doing consult at your hospital in a few. Wanna join me for dinner later? I pay, you spill! –Casey<br />
<br />
Oh, and don’t worry. Definitely NOT bringing Seth with me. –Casey<br />
<br />
I smiled and quickly replied an affirmative. I couldn’t help really liking Casey. She was very thoughtful, welcoming and warm, and she left a very good first impression on me.<br />
<br />
“Cabeza at 8!” Casey replied. She was referring to the fancy but laidback Mexican restaurant just across the street from the hospital, which was really nice and convenient for the both of us, I think. I lived near and she’d be coming from the hospital. My inner penny-pincher was also doing a happy dance about the upcoming free food. (So sue me, I love anything that’s free.)<br />
<br />
I sat through the afternoon class in a breeze. The topic was relatively easy to digest and was actually very interesting. Plastic Surgery Overview. I never realized the genius behind this specialty until this afternoon. Skin flaps and z-plasties, ah! Whoever thought of how to make a vertical scar horizontal was a god. I mean, who would even think that, right?! Okay, enough of me fangirling.<br />
<br />
I was on my way home at five. Luke was stuck with (more) database tweakings and couldn’t time out at five and walk me home, which was absolutely fine with me. Nothing wrong with some time apart. Works with the plan of slowing some things down, right? I also texted him about the upcoming dinner with Casey, but he was no longer able to reply. Must have been a very busy workday for him today.<br />
<br />
Anyways, I lounged about in my comfy couch for about an hour before deciding to shower and dress up for dinner. Nothing to pressure myself to study on tonight because I had already caught up with last week’s difficult topics last night, and today’s load was relatively ultra-light. I mean, I could probably do with some advanced reading (obviously), but the procrastinator in me was already stomping its feet in utter rebellion, so…<br />
<br />
I had fifteen minutes to spare after I had ransacked my closet through and through, and decided I looked nice enough for a dinner with my boyfriend’s brother’s perfect fiancée. I chose to wear a nice pair of washed jeans and a dressy teal top, with a pair of grey heeled boots to finish it off. I gathered my hair up in a messy-but-not-messy ponytail and put on some natural makeup, and I was good to go.<br />
<br />
I walked the distance since I didn’t want to have to spend money for cab fare, and I still arrived a couple minutes early. When I walked in, I told the receptionist about the 8 pm reservation on Casey’s name and I was immediately seated in the VIP booth… thing (LOL). I knew it was VIP because these were the booths/tables that my friends and I would despise (‘cause we couldn’t swing it) whenever we had something to celebrate at this restaurant.<br />
<br />
I glanced at my phone momentarily, aiming at pretending to busy myself and not look awkwardly out of place just in case a waiter passed through. (That’s just socially awkward me.) I saw two messages, though, so I didn’t have to pretend at all. Score!<br />
<br />
The first one was from Luke, saying he was on his way home and that I should enjoy dinner with Casey. I figured maybe he was doing the slowing down thing, too, because it was just so easy for him to invite himself to dinner, right? Him and Casey were practically family, anyways. I was really glad and sorta relieved that he didn’t do that.<br />
<br />
The second one was from Casey, saying she was running a few minutes late and that I could order appetizers for the both of us so she could stuff her mouth STAT when she arrived. Yeah, she actually said that. And I panicked a little. I wasn’t bothered at all that she was gonna be late. Most everyone in the profession didn’t actually hold their own time; things happen, people get called to do things. What I worried about was that I was tasked to order appetizers for the both of us! What if she would judge me based on what I ordered for her?! (Ok, admittedly, that would be ridiculous.)<br />
<br />
I called the attention of a waiter and asked for the menu. I only ever knew the affordable ones on their list, so I had to take a look. Casey did give me free rein, so I thought I might as well try better tasting things on here. I decided on a sampler just because it all seemed the most authentic and delicious. Plus the waiter also told me it was a running favorite amongst the VIPs, HAHA! (Fine, I cheated there.)<br />
<br />
When the dish arrived, I was floored. Everything did look and smell so good, my mouth watered. Casey has yet to arrive, though, but she had already texted me she was gonna be in in about five minutes tops so, even though I so wanted to take a bite right then and there, I knew I had to wait for her.<br />
<br />
Within five minutes, I saw her walk in. She was wearing black skinnies and a white chiffon long-sleeved top in an “editor tuck” with black high-heeled boots and her hair up in a loose bun. Gosh, she looked sublime even at a distance. She quickly scanned the room, found me, and smiled a big smile before the receptionist could catch her attention.<br />
<br />
“God, I am so sorry I am late!” she exclaimed as she kissed me on the cheek before she sat in front of me. “Haven’t you started yet?” she asked looking down on the untouched plate on the table.<br />
<br />
“It just arrived a couple minutes ago,” I smiled at her, trying my best not to show how much I totally admired her. I thought I had gotten over it after I have seen her in her utmost best (in a cocktail dress), but my, my, there’s just something about a lady who glows even in simple clothes.<br />
<br />
“Oh! Let’s dig in, then! And thanks!”<br />
<br />
After a couple bites, she asked me what I wanted to eat after. I had decided to just let her order whatever for the both of us since she obviously knew the menu better than I did, and I told her that. She had waved for the waiter in no time and was ordering dish after dish of this and that (with several specifications). She kept saying excitedly how she wanted me to try everything she dictated to the waiter, and her giddiness was just infectious.<br />
<br />
When all the food came, I was excited to try everything. But before I could choose which one I wanted to devour first, Casey decided to start what we came here for.<br />
<br />
“So you thought Seth was a total ass, right?” she was smiling, complete with twinkling eyes. And the visual stimulus was so off the mark from the auditory one. The statement caught me off guard and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say.<br />
<br />
“Yes. I’m sorry,” I answered after I recovered, quickly thinking up a standby plan for dinner if ever. I could buy fast food if she should decide to kick me out of the fancy restaurant. McDonald’s was just a block away, anyway.<br />
<br />
She laughed. She still looked marvelous, but I couldn’t really figure out why she was laughing like that.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-4966642644574531972014-03-22T08:31:00.000-07:002014-03-22T08:35:16.385-07:00I Sorta Panicked<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<i>A/N: Here you go, guys. Thanks for hanging in there and I hope you enjoy! I'd love to hear what you think by the end of it!</i><br />
<br />
I was panicking. I could feel my heart rate going up. I could already
sense my breathing. I could almost <i>even</i>
feel my pupils dilating (LOL, what?). In short, I wanted to take flight was my
initial reaction. <i>Why would he even say
anything like that? It’s all too soon! Does he expect me to say it back? How
can he expect anything like that? I can’t say it back! This is all too fast! </i>my
mind raced. It felt as if everything was on a standstill waiting for me to
respond to what Luke had just said. And I had no idea just what exactly I had
to say.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Luke had calmly and slowly let go of my hand after a couple seconds of
me just staring at him in dumbfound shock, probably recognizing there wasn’t
gonna be an answer any time soon. My mouth was dry and I had no idea how to
respond to <i>that</i>. Surely, he
understood where I was coming from, right? Or maybe I just heard him wrong. <i>Please, let it be just me hearing him wrong,</i>
I prayed dramatically in my head, complete with cracking voice even.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Whoa. Wait. What?” I managed to utter after a few seconds of complete
wordless shock, and after I had successfully laid down my coffee cup onto the
table (and not shattered it into pieces like the dramatic girl in me pictured
in my mental version of how things happened here). That wasn’t the best-worded
response, in retrospect. Nor was it the best-toned one. But I had enough sense
to filter some word vomit right then (thankfully) and, well, that was all my
filter could let through. I was still praying I had heard Luke wrong, but each
second that passed only proved the opposite. Man, why did he have to say things
like that?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Luke had been looking at anywhere but me after he had said the
precipitous L-word. He looked like he never meant for any of it to spill out,
but then it did, and it was a very bad slip, and he couldn’t take it back
anymore even if he clearly wanted to. His eyes had actually widened minutely
upon hearing the panicked words out of my lips. That reaction somehow calmed me
a bit. It was just a slip, hopefully. He never meant to say anything. <i>Wait, was that even calming enough?</i> my
thoughts raced and I was back into full panic mode again. Thanks, brain.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I should’ve stopped at <i>I
wouldn’t wanna change anything</i>,” he answered meekly. He rubbed his temples
with his right hand, like one would do with a migraine, as he continued to
evade my eyes. “Fuck,” he breathed more to himself than anything.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Are you okay?” I asked with concern. He definitely looked like he was
beating himself up from the inside, and I felt for him. I could have probably
worded out a better response than what I had just said. Maybe he wouldn’t be, I
don’t know, panicking himself at that moment if I chose my words better.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“No. I’m not thinking straight is what I am right now,” he answered
desperately as he slumped resignedly onto his couch while still not looking at
me. He looked so much like a kid in distress and I just wanted to smile at how
adorable that was if not only for the situation we were currently in. “I was
too wrapped up in what I was trying to say about Seth and everything… Just – I
guess I can’t ask you to just forget this ever happened?” he asked the floor,
sounding hopeful.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I actually considered the thought for a second, and it sounded totally
tempting. Everything’s gonna be fine if I pretended none of this ever occurred.
But then again, no. How can I forget how he told me that he freaking loved me?
“I don’t think we can forget this ever happened, though,” I told him after a
breathy, shaky sound that I tried to pass off as a laugh.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Yeah. Me, too,” he agreed. Finally, he was looking straight at me
again. He steeled himself before saying, “Nothing left to do but own up to it,
I guess.” His eyes were dead straight intense at that moment, and I could feel
him pulling me in. His look turned serious and he held me in his gaze. “You can
walk away, Samantha, if you think this is too much for you,” he uttered softly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“What? Why would I?” I asked quietly. I was confused at the
suggestion. Didn’t he just say he loved me? Why was he telling me to walk away
then? I couldn’t understand where he stood. Or maybe it was just his eyes that
were mesmerizing and mind-blocking, and I couldn’t look away. For some reason
or another, the way he looked at me was actually calming my thoughts. My mind
had begun to slow down.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Doesn’t this scare you?” he asked as he slowly moved to angle his
face closer to where I was, resting an arm on the table between us to support
his leaning weight. “I <i>know</i> it’s all
too fast.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Yeah, it does. And it is. Too fast,” I muttered, almost to myself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“And?” It was as if he was expecting for me to run for cover and he
seemed ready for anything.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“And I can’t walk away,” I told him quietly. I realized it was true
the moment I said it out loud. He gave me an out and I couldn’t take it. I
can’t. I can’t just walk away. That was clear enough. Yes, things were moving
way too fast for my taste, and I can’t say things back to him right now, but he
wasn’t really pushing me to say anything. He even recognized how fast
everything was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Was this unconventional? Yes, totally. A deal breaker? I didn’t really
think so. I didn’t think it was an impossible notion for the future, either.
Things <i>have been</i> running smoothly if
you took his older brother out of the picture. We just needed to slow down, in
my opinion. A lot.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He smiled his small smile at my response, and sighed what sounded like
one of relief. “That’s good to hear.” The relief in his voice was just too
obvious and I couldn’t help but be relieved myself. Gosh, I thought I’d be
running away in the opposite direction right about now. I had actually
considered it. But then again, I couldn’t.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“May I ask one thing, though?” I said tentatively. He nodded. “Did you
mean what you just said?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He looked down at the wooden floors for a couple seconds first as
though he was weighing whether to tell me or not. He gazed back at me after and
said, “I meant every word, but I never wanted to say anything too soon because,
well, I knew it’s too soon. It just… it slipped.” He was shaking his head lightly
at that, clearly thinking what he just did was stupid. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I honestly just wanted to hug him at that moment to make him feel a
little bit better. But an awkward “thank you” was all that escaped from my
lips, not entirely sure of what the correct response might be after an “I love
you” was said to you and you weren’t reciprocating nor rejecting it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I wanted to ask when he knew. A little part of me was curious. But I
figured I wasn’t really ready to know right now. What good would knowing be if
I didn’t have anything to tell him in return, right? And I thought knowing just
how early he knew would probably scare me to death and make me chicken out of
what this was. I was happier not knowing and I wanna be happy longer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
After an awkward couple of minutes, the conversation started to flow
little by little between us up to a point when I had almost forgotten about the
mishap. We sipped our coffee and told each other about our lousy weekend not
talking to each other and about what we did the entire day today and we were
almost back to normal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I am sure I am about to sound so clingy but I did miss Luke over the
weekend. I missed this. Just talking to him made me feel a whole lot lighter
than when I didn’t. He had this way of making me take my guard down and just be
comfortable around him. I had some big enough trust issues that this feeling
with Luke is just so welcome and so unthinkable to let go.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
A couple hours had passed before I remembered I had some studying I
actually had to do. I told Luke I had to go home. Since the caffeine had
already kicked in, I figured I could study in my apartment that night instead
of staying out late. Luke was nothing but understanding when I told him I had
to study and even volunteered to walk me home.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I was battling with myself whether I should invite him over as we both
walked the short distance to my building. I knew I really had to study because
I had only three free weekends left before I had another set of exams. But my
mind was saying it’s still only Monday anyway. Long story short, I was still
undecided when we reached my building.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Here we are,” Luke said when we stopped and I hadn’t yet figured out
what I wanted to do. He leaned in for a kiss and I met him halfway. It was soft
and hesitant at first until it deepened. I was out of breath when he pulled
away and smiled, “Have a good night studying.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I rolled my eyes at him knowing he was clearly teasing me, before I
opened the door and looked back at him one more time, still considering letting
him upstairs. I shook my head to dissolve the thought and I saw his smile
widen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I’ll walk away now. Goodnight,” he laughingly said before he turned
and started on his way.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Goodnight,” I called and he stopped and turned back, grabbed my hand
and gave me another kiss. It was outright intense and my knees weakened when he
grabbed hold of my waist and neck with each hand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Go up now or I’m coming with you,” he muttered after a while. I
seriously considered the thought, but he gently pushed me inside my building
and closed the door himself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
As I walked up the stairs, I couldn’t help but think it was a good
thing I didn’t take it when he gave me an out. Everything was simply better
with Luke. And I am really just happy that we were talking again. I was even
hoping things go better with his brother next time. If there was going to be a
next time. Honestly, I’d rather the next time was way, way far into the future.</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-10382887129931298382014-03-08T02:27:00.001-08:002014-03-08T02:27:54.716-08:00Author's Apologies<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">I'm very sorry about not posting this week. I thought I could write in between exams since I had four days vacant in between two sets of exams (a block and the finals). But I overestimated myself and it turns out my body needs sleep, too. I'm actually in the middle of a panicky cramming session for finals next week and just remembered I left a blog hanging here. I'm actually too out of it right now and I think I'm rambling.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">I am sincerely sorry about my erratic posts. I did try to stick to it though. But then, I am now trashing my schedule as I can't stick to it religiously anyways. Will figure it out later on. Sorry for letting you down, guys. I just have a lot on my plate right now. Will post soon enough. Hope you'd still read it when it goes up. :(</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">On another note, I would like to share other similar blogs that I have been reading, as well, to sort of make up for not posting here.</span><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://lovesexpizza.blogspot.com/">lovesexpizza.blogspot.com</a></span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://newyorkdixie.blogspot.com/">newyorkdixie.blogspot.com</a></span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://moderndayfaith.blogspot.com/">moderndayfaith.blogspot.com</a></span></span></li>
<li><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://crazyadventuresinny.blogspot.com/">crazyadventuresinny.blogspot.com</a></span></li>
<li><a href="http://highheelshappyhour.blogspot.com/">highheelshappyhour.blogspot.com</a></li>
</ul>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-43593201952828892362014-03-01T00:00:00.000-08:002014-03-01T00:00:03.659-08:00The Fast and The Serious<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“I was about to call you to talk over coffee,” I told Luke meekly
after his passionate conversation starter. He looked surprised about that.
Which I thought was weird. I was deferring on talking to him, yes, but I never
thought of just <i>not</i> talking to him altogether.
That’d be simply immature.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“Oh. Okay. That’s – That’s good, I hope,” he acceded, visibly
relieved. He exhaled deeply and looked the tiniest bit more relaxed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
We walked out of the building quietly and got to my usual coffee shop.
We ordered our drinks and sat on a secluded corner. We each sipped tentatively,
calculating what to say to each other, I think. He seemed nervous. I knew I
looked anxious, too. And the coffee now seemed like a bad idea. Did I really
need additional sympathetic nerve stimulation? Nope, not really.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
He cleared his throat. “Let me just get this out of my system. You’re
not thinking of breaking up with me right now, are you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
I stared at him quietly for a while, my mind whirring unstoppably. No,
I did not even consider breaking up with him at all. That was just crazy. “No,
Luke, it hadn’t crossed my mind. Why would you even think that?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
He looked down and rubbed his forehead. “Look, I know Seth screwed
things up. <i>I</i> screwed things up by
having you meet him so early on. And it was him that has a problem, I realize
that now. I just – I wanted you to know how serious I am about you and that’s
why I wanted you to meet him. Obviously, the plan backfired on me.” He finished
passionately, leaning back on his seat like he was relieved to say what he had
to say.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“I don’t wanna get between the two of you, though. I know how much you
adore your brother.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“And he should feel the same way about you and me.” He looked very
pissed about Seth.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
I had nothing to say in response to that. Luke seemed legitimately mad
at his brother. I meant what I just said about not wanting to get between the
two of them. But this reaction from Luke would have been welcome last Saturday.
And I told him exactly that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
He apologized about how he reacted that night. He said he had already
talked to Seth about me before the actual dinner and he was expecting a better
welcome than what I received. Obviously, his brother did not follow through,
and he just did not know how to react. He had not appreciated the fact that
Seth was being rude to me, but he also could not just call him out <i>in front of me</i> because that would only
make Seth more unreasonable than he was actually being. (Yup, I thought Seth
was an egotistical maniac who was being ridiculously petty at that exact
moment, too.) The explanation itself was complicated and Luke had rambled on
for several minutes before I got the gist. And miraculously enough, I
understood his side of the story. Seth, though, was a different side of the
coin.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“Why was Seth even like that to me? And for Christ’s sake, why did he
have to be debriefed on how to act in front of your<i> </i>girlfriend? Shouldn’t that be, I don’t know, <i>general knowledge</i>?” I didn’t mean to sound aggressive, but it came
out that way. Really, I have yet to learn how to contain my emotions. Thank
God, I have the bedside voice nailed perfectly or my future patients will not
want to even go near my future clinic.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“I’m sorry. He’s always been like that.” He breathed deeply before he
continued, “I’m the kid who screwed up in my family. They still treat me like I
need protection from them, especially my brother.” He paused, looking at me
thoughtfully as though he was considering if he wanted to tell me more. “Seth
thinks anyone that comes in my way is only there because of my advantageous
background ever since I almost married a girl who was exactly that a few years
back and they lost me.” He stopped and I let the information sink in. <i>He almost got married</i> was what sank in.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“You had a fiancée?” I asked in surprise.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“I had bought a ring to propose, yes,” he replied solemnly. “But that
was years ago. Is that seriously all you took from that?” he asked, a ghost of
amusement shadowing his features with a small tentative smile.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“I’m sorry. It was what sank in…” I replied wistfully, blankly staring
through the glass windows and towards the street. I was trying to imagine him
married to some girl. I could not. He was simply way too young. “When did you <i>almost </i>get married?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“Four years ago. We were twenty-one and in love. Or so I thought. It’s
a long story and I don’t really know how to work that into a normal
conversation, but suffice it to say that my brother and I fortunately found out
early enough how she was merely after the money and connections of the family.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Turns out Carmen and Olive were
both right about Seth’s reasons, then</i>, I thought.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Luke paused to take a sip from his coffee before continuing on. “I was
devastated when I found out. I built my life around her at one point in my
life. And I threw away everything for about a year and a half after what she
did. And then I realized I needed help when everything went really bad with me.
I was a lost cause and Seth helped me recover. And now I have all this fragile
connotations all around me from my family.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“They love you,” I told him in a small voice. Seth made sense now. I
am an older sister, too. And I understood exactly where Seth was coming from
now. I’d probably be doing the same thing. Although less harshly, ideally.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“I know that. But they <i>are</i>
overbearing. I have literally regressed to an adolescent in their eyes, and I
can’t really blame them. I screwed my life up consciously.” He couldn’t look at
me anymore at that point. “I was fine with it at first, thinking I deserved it,
but I admit I was relieved when my parents decided to go on a cruise, thinking
I could be just normal again. I had never realized Seth would take on all the
overbearing for the whole family. And I only recognized that the night you met
him.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
I was speechless. All of this history coming from Luke was too much to
take in, and I was starting to chicken out from all the drama he has revealed.
So this was what I was waiting for for him to divulge. It was seriously so
naïve of me to think there was no baggage to this man. Or at least not a
baggage that was <i>this big</i>. I had been
thinking it was something lighter, something petty like sibling rivalry or
whatever. And I was so hugely off the mark.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“You’re the first girl I’ve introduced to Seth ever since that failed
one, you know. I know I’ve moved on from that, but clearly my family hasn’t.
And it also doesn’t help matters for them that we’re technically moving fast,”
Luke continued. He reached across the table for my right hand and squeezed it
gently. “But I don’t care about our pace. I know this is right. I want it to
be. You’re the right fit for me and I wouldn’t wanna change that. I love you,
Samantha.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
I was drinking from my cup when he said it. I almost spit my coffee
out of pure shock, but thank God I didn’t or that would have been completely
embarrassing. Not to mention offensive.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
But come on, the direction of what he was just saying? Who would think
it was headed to <i>that</i>? And wouldn’t
you think that this was all going <i>too
fast</i>? Because I certainly did.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-91339246052817084462014-02-28T00:00:00.000-08:002014-02-28T00:00:09.096-08:00Diagnostics<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
The night I actually met Seth was horrible. The drive home was awkward
and quiet. Luke kept looking at me worriedly whenever we stopped at a red
light. And we seemed to be stopping at every freaking red light. I was
determined not to look at him because my level of annoyance had reached that
part where one jostle and I could cry. I felt violated for some reason. And to
think I had been so excited to meet Seth that day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
When we reached my apartment building, Luke ran out to open my door
for me but I didn’t wait to let him. I opened the door on my own and hurriedly
fished my keys out of my purse. I just wanted to get out of there and let out
my tears. It was so difficult keeping them in. I needed a good two or three
sobs, for God’s sake, and I blame it partly on the hormones.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Hey, talk to me,” Luke had said quietly as I was busy trying to
unlock the building door. “We said we won’t shut down on each other,” he said
before I pushed the door open and went inside. I had no reply. I knew he wanted
to come into the building when I saw his eyes, but he let me shut the door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Anne was furious at Seth the moment I recounted to them what happened
over lunch the following Monday. “Okay, did you really just tell me he was
thirty? Because I don’t believe you right now.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Carmen seemed to be calculating what she was about to say. And Olive
was simply dumbstruck. I hadn’t really wanted to bother them with stupid stuff,
especially since we all had mountains of notes to pore over. But I simply
couldn’t figure out whatever it was I did wrong, and I needed some consult.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I hadn’t talked to Luke yet, either. He hasn’t called since he dropped
me off and I closed the door on his face. I was secretly hoping he’d magically
appear out of nowhere, trying his best to pacify me and figure out what was
wrong, but it was radio silent between us over the weekend.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I knew how it was so totally juvenile for me to give him the cold
shoulder (and suspect that Luke was doing the same), but I didn’t exactly know
how I could communicate to him effectively about how his “perfect” brother was
simply rude and how he didn’t stand up for me when I expected him to. (Even I
thought the latter statement sounded way too demanding from a girlfriend of a
mere one week.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“There has got to be a reason why Luke’s brother was like that. You
said Casey herself told you he was just being protective,” Carmen said over the
incomprehensible mutterings Anne was doing. “Let’s get our facts straight here.
You are a medical student. Luke’s family is basically made up of doctors with
apparently sparkling practices and huge connections. You have only been dating
Luke four weeks and he’s already arranged for you to meet his family,
basically, a week after you went exclusive. Something in that storyline must
have sent his danger warnings through the roof. Although, that’s one big
paranoid person, if you ask me.” She finished with a meaningful look towards
me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I was speechless. I never thought of it that way. “So let’s say Seth
thinks I am a social climber to his brother’s alternative medical connections.
Why would he, though? I never even knew half of Luke’s family were doctors
until after we decided to be exclusive!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
We all fell silent at that. It would have looked stupid if a stranger
looked in on us. We were literally brainstorming over a guy the way we normally
would do a difficult diagnostic case. Rule this in, rule this out. The best
diagnosis must explain everything the patient has…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Wait,” Olive said after a while. “You said something about bumping
into Dr. Anderson. And the residency offer.” She literally looked like she just
discovered fire.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh come on, that was clearly <i>a
joke</i>. That could not have been tacked negatively on me! At any rate, that
should have made me look better!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“No, no. I get where Olive’s coming from,” Carmen butted in. “But we
can’t ever know for sure by just sitting here. You need to talk to Luke.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I can’t,” I answered petulantly, forking a piece of pasta
pointlessly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Why not?” Anne suddenly asked, coherently this time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“’Cause I told you, we’re not talking.” I knew I sounded like a kid.
And it wasn’t a half hour later when they managed to put some sense into me and
convinced me to reach out to Luke. I had decided I’d call him later for coffee.
I was planning on studying out after class anyway.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I spent the last class getting anxious about having some serious talk
with Luke. I was pretty sure by dismissal that I would be back at square one on
that topic by the time I got home. I have never been a fan of serious talks
because I have a tendency to not think and get carried away by my emotions that
word vomit usually happens. And to know that one was lingering right around the
corner was enough to weigh on my heart heavily.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I was delaying on calling Luke. I had decided I’d call him once I got
out of the building. So naturally, I was postponing having to <i>leave</i> the building after class had
ended. But Anne and Olive saw right through me and dragged me to the elevator.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Turns out I didn’t have to call. I saw Luke leaning on a column at the
lobby once the elevator doors opened. He was still wearing his uniform and it
was already past six. I had forgotten I already handed him my schedule. Our
eyes immediately caught each other’s and my heart began pounding. <i>Here goes…<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Anne and Olive said goodbye the minute Luke walked up to me. I have to
admit I considered following them out of the building for a second. But that
wouldn’t get me some progress, would it?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Hey,” I greeted him awkwardly. He leaned in for a kiss on the cheek
and I let him. It was… restrained.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I’m just gonna say it, okay?” he started assertively with his hands
stuffed in his pockets. “I don’t know if you still wanna see me or talk to me,
but I’ve given you your space and it was hard to do that but I did, and I think
I deserve at least a moment for you to let us discuss what happened.” He was
panting by the end of his sentence. He clearly thought this through. And I have
postponed thinking about anything. <i>Something’s
definitely wrong with the stereotypes we’re playing</i>, I thought mindlessly.</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-28169633771024349732014-02-22T00:00:00.000-08:002014-02-22T00:00:09.924-08:00Meeting Doctors<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Tonight was the night Luke had set for me to meet his brother Seth and
his girlfriend Casey. Anne and Carmen were shocked to hear it. Luke and I have
only been official one week and they kept warning me at just how fast things
seemed to be going between us. I didn’t think it was a big deal anymore though.
Things were running smoothly, I just didn’t think meeting Luke’s brother would
make any negative impact.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Seth had confirmed the dinner on a Saturday evening. Three days after
Luke called. He had said his brother’s schedule was a challenge to overthrow
and three days was a good interval. Anyways, it was going to be at this upscale
restaurant that was simply impossible to get a table from if it were only me
and my measly budget and strings. It was a different case with Luke’s brother
who knew the owner, though.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I browsed the internet about the restaurant’s menu, just so I wouldn’t
get so out of my league when it came time to order. (I think that was probably
the control freak in me.) And I almost died when I saw the price list. Suffice
it to say that I just can’t wait to be a doctor myself if it meant I could eat
without worrying about how to pay for it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I had decided to wear a dark green cocktail dress for the occasion and
matched it with strappy silver heels. I wanted to make a good impression and I
was ready to go when Luke called me to say he was waiting downstairs. He was
leaning against a black sedan when I got out of the building.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I’ve never seen you drive a car before,” I said to him after I
greeted him with a kiss on the lips. He looked extra nice in a crisp white
shirt, black pants, and skinny black tie.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“The bike’s faster and less restraining.” He opened the passenger door
for me and gestured for me to go in and I did. He handed me a long-stemmed red
rose and kissed my cheek before he closed the door before I could even say
thanks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
That was his thing. He’d do something so utterly sweet out of the blue
and he’d act as if it was totally normal that he does these things. As if it
was no big deal when it actually was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You ready?” he asked once he got inside the car.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Yes.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Don’t ditch me when you see him, okay?” he said, looking at me
seriously while also trying to stifle a laugh. He had been saying how much
better Seth was than him. And that Seth’d probably be more my type than himself
because Seth was a doctor and he was not. He’d always say it like it was a
joke. But somehow I felt he was not so confident when it was his brother
involved.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I giggled. “I won’t,” I promised with a huge smile on my face. I had
long decided I would wait until he felt comfortable enough with me to open up
about how he felt about his brother.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
It turns out Seth was an anesthesiologist who already had a
flourishing practice at age thirty. He has practically inherited the patients
of the surgeons that their mother worked with four years into his fellowship
when their mother decided to retire and go on an extended cruise with their
father at the Caribbean just a couple months ago. I’d never have known Luke’s
mom was a doctor too if I hadn’t asked about Seth! And Luke only said he never
knew how to stir it into the conversation.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Luke’s father (was not Darth Vader, sorry), on the other hand, was a
businessman who had a flexible time so the brothers never had to grow up alone.
It was a well-thought plan, in my opinion, a doctor marrying another from a
different field that was less demanding of time than her own. And it explained
the reason why Luke went to a completely different direction than his mom and
Seth. It wasn’t like the whole family was a bunch of doctors. It wasn’t a
stuck-up thing where he was expected to follow everybody else’s footsteps <i>just ‘cause</i> (which actually tend to
happen A LOT in families made up of doctors). It was to each his own.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<i>“Hang on a second. I distinctly
remember you saying you weren’t rich at all,” </i>I had told him the moment I
realized just how wealthy he must have been if he had an anesthesiologist and a
businessman for parents. I was flashing back on all the signs: the Ducati, the
big tips, the clothes, the apartment.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<i>“I’m not, though. My family’s
wealthy, not me,” </i>he answered so nonchalantly before he kissed me into
submission. And what a typical answer from a typical Richie Rich. Dang it, I
was stupid, wasn’t I?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
We got stuck in traffic two blocks away from the restaurant and we
were already running late when Luke received a call from his brother.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“We just ran into a bit of traffic. We’re almost there,” said Luke.
Seth said something on the other line. “No. Don’t be ridiculous. I just didn’t
know the road’s gonna be like this. I brought the car.” A pause, and then Luke
hung up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You okay?” I asked reaching out for Luke’s hand, noticing he was a
bit agitated after the call.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Seth just has this thing about being punctual, and we’re ten minutes
late. Don’t worry about it.” I could feel just how affected he was by Seth’s
call that I wondered whether there was more to it than he was letting on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
We arrived at the restaurant five minutes after the call and found
Seth and Casey waiting for us at the bar. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You guys, this is Samantha, my girlfriend,” Luke introduced me with
an arm draped around my shoulders. “Samantha, this is Seth, my brother, and
this is Casey, his fiancée.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Casey was very sweet, warm, and smoking hot. She was wearing a sleek
black asymmetrical cutout dress with her hair high up in a bun – a look only
models could have pulled off. She hugged me so tightly after Luke’s
introduction and she seemed so genuinely pleased to meet me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I couldn’t say the same about Seth, though. He was civil about me, as
far as civility is concerned, but he merely shook my hand so coldly. Not that I
was expecting to be treated like family instantly, but it was anticlimactic, if
you ask me. Luke had portrayed his brother as this warm, kind, and loving older
brother that this cold and aloof person in front of me seemed to be an entirely
different person from who I was debriefed to meet.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
The moment our hands touched, my jaw almost dropped to the floor. I
could see past his shoulder. Wearing a sterling suit and leaning into the other
side of the bar with a glass of scotch was Dr. Karl Anderson and his wonderful
grey eyes. He was talking to a couple other guys who I assumed were around his
age as well. My heart stopped out of sheer admiration. Dr. Anderson looked
absolutely perfect.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
An usherette walked up to us to inform us that the table was being
prepared. At that exact moment, Dr. Anderson looked over his shoulder towards
the door. He seemed to be waiting for someone else to arrive. And then, his
eyes fell on my little group. First on Seth, then on Casey, and finally on me.
The recognition that clearly showed in his expression made me float in the air.
He remembers me still!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I furtively watched him excuse himself from his friends and walk right
up to our side of the bar. He was looking at our direction and I did not know
exactly what I should do. Panic was the right word for it, I think.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Dr. Anderson greeted Seth, Luke, and Casey and it clearly showed they
all knew each other well. “And how did you manage to get your hands on Ms.
Miller?” he asked Seth humorously while shaking my hand in greeting. “No stealing
from my department!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Seth only responded with a forced laugh.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh, there’s our table. I’ll see you around,” Dr. Anderson waved us
goodbye once he saw his friends leaving the bar. “Ms. Miller, I’ll put in a
good word for you in Surgery if you don’t take up this man on any
Anesthesiology offers.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I was sure my eyes were wide as saucers because Dr. Anderson merely
looked at me amusedly before taking off. I think I was able to mutter an “I’d
be honored” before he had gone. And Seth had returned to his previous stony
expression before Dr. Anderson came by to have a chat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My mind was immediately in a buzz. I did not know whether I could take
Dr. Anderson’s word for this bright future in Surgery at such an informal
meeting. But then again, much of everything in taking up posts at the hospital
happened this way, as far as I’ve heard. It’s all word of mouth until they give
you a paper to sign and everything becomes official.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
If Dr. Anderson were being serious, him putting in a good word for me
in his department would be a huge deal. His word would as good as seal the deal
on a surgical residency for me in the future! No competing with other
applicants. No unwarranted asskisseries to senior residents during internship
just for a decent endorsement. Just a residency spot waiting for me, served on
a silver platter with ice cream on top. But that’s just me counting my chickens
before the eggs are hatched.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
The usherette led us to our table moments later, and I found out Seth
already had the chef prepare a menu for our dinner. It seemed a bit too
controlling, in my opinion. But I decided to just zip my non-paying mouth and
go with the flow.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Luke tells us you’re already in third year, Samantha. How are you
getting on?” Casey said over dinner. She seemed so very enthusiastic about
almost everything that I wondered how she could tolerate Seth’s attitude on a
frequent basis, really. He just seemed so… standoffish.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
The rest of the dinner conversation was mostly shouldered by Casey on
Seth’s end, who had generally been just quiet and watchful that it was almost
too rude even for me. And I have an unbelievable threshold, you guys. I did not
understand what I could have done wrong to even deserve such impoliteness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Luke, on the other hand, was trying to act as if everything was
normal. And honestly, it was starting to get on my nerves. I was really only
putting on a nice attitude because I did not want to be rude to Casey who was
trying so hard to salvage the situation. But it was simply too challenging to
not be fazed by this man’s attitude.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Before dessert was served, Casey asked me to go to the lady’s room
with her. I went just because I could not stand Seth anymore and any break from
his rude behavior was too welcome.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I met Seth in medical school, you know,” Casey shared once we were
both in front of the mirror powdering our noses (oh, so ladylike of me).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh. Luke never said you were a doctor, too.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Yeah, he doesn’t always know when to say stuff like that,” she
agreed. “I’m guessing Luke told you last minute about Seth and his mom being
doctors?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Yeah,” I mumbled in response.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“He’s a bit uncomfortable about it. I think he thinks people treat him
differently once they know.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“But why does he think that?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh, it’s just Luke being Luke. Trust me, I’ve known him long enough,”
she said as she let her hair down glamorously. And by God, her hair was
luxurious. I’d never be able to pull off a hair down from a bun in a jiffy and
in one day. “And right now, that’s just Seth being Seth. I do apologize about
his behavior. I really want to smack him with that attitude of his. But he is
very protective about Luke, I hope you understand.” She put her hands on my
shoulders and turned me to face her. “Don’t let this phase intimidate you,
please. I really like you for my little brother-in-law-to-be. And I know Seth’s
gonna like you, too, if he gets over his tantrum tonight.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Thank you.” I smiled at Casey’s kind words and was inwardly thanking
I did not end up making drama at the table. I was <i>this</i> close to calling Seth’s ugly behavior out. That was how rude
he was being. And I did not exactly care that Seth was eight years my senior
then.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
We went back to our table with me a little bit saner than when I left.
I felt Luke squeeze my hand beneath the table once I was seated and I turned my
head towards him. He was looking at me with concern and I only gazed back at
him with pursed lips. In an instant, I was slightly annoyed by the fact that <i>he</i> never called his brother out at the
way <i>I</i> was being treated. And it
annoyed me more that the person who had enough sense to appease me had to be
Casey, who was practically a stranger to me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Dinner ended uneventfully after that. We said our goodbyes and Casey
and I exchanged numbers before I quietly walked over to where Luke’s car was
parked. I think I put on a good show for Casey and Seth, but now that I’ve
watched their car leave the parking area, I no longer had to pretend I was
happy to meet Seth at all.</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-2213867598624025612014-02-21T02:32:00.002-08:002014-02-21T02:33:28.204-08:00A Pancakes-and-OJ Kind of Morning<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I woke up to the smell of pancakes wafting in my bedroom. Luke’s side
of the bed was empty and I had to smile despite the filthy hangover that was
starting to come on. I had to get glucose into my system fast.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I fell asleep securely tucked in Luke’s arms last night/this morning.
He had remained quiet, but he cuddled with me and I was fine. (But that was
just because I was tired.) I still had no idea why he was acting weird though
because I never had the guts to ask.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Morning,” Luke greeted me when I walked out of my bedroom. He flipped
a pancake to an empty plate before he walked towards me and kissed me at the
top of my head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Morning,” I greeted him back. “Which syrup do you want?” I asked as I
walked towards the fridge, trying to be casual. “I have maple, chocolate, and a
bit of strawberry left from last time.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Whatever you’re having,” he answered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Maple, it is” I announced, bringing the bottle to my tiny breakfast
table.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You always pick maple,” he observed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I always do, don’t I?” I responded, trying to keep the conversation
alive. It was tough.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Unlike all the other mornings, when talk flowed so easily between the
two of us, today I ate quietly, not really knowing what to say after the little
awkward conversation we just had. The air between us was simply weird.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I was trying to figure out why Luke had been quiet and acting the way
he was while I chewed on a piece of pancake. I stared out the kitchen window,
hoping to clear my mind and identify what was wrong in this picture but I was
drawing blanks and I didn’t really want to entertain the idea of just asking
Luke about it. I knew I was being stupid, but I couldn’t really work up the
courage to call him out. Maybe I just had to give him some space or something.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You’re quiet,” Luke nudged me gently after a while.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“<i>You’re </i>quiet,” I answered
back, figuring the conversation’s about to happen anyway. “You sort of shut
down on me last night.” I didn’t mean for my tone to be accusing, but it did
come out that way. So much for deciding to just let him be.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly as he touched the corner of my lips,
apparently wiping off a crumb. “I was just… thinking last night.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“About what?” I put down my utensils and stared at his brown eyes
intently. They looked so beautiful against what little sunlight crept inside my
apartment, and it was distracting.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“About how much I like you,” he said so matter-of-factly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I don’t understand. I like you, too.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I like you too much, I… I don’t know what to do with you.” He
answered, looking at me as though I was a puzzle he can’t solve.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You what?” I asked stupidly. I didn’t really fully understand what he
meant. Or whether I should be offended or something.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Samantha, I don’t want to see other people.” He breathed deeply
before continuing on. “I don’t want <i>you</i>
to see other people. I don’t know what to do with <i>you</i> seeing other people,” he said, not taking his eyes off me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I’m not seeing other people right now,” I muttered almost
incomprehensibly. I couldn’t even understand where all of this was coming from.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Do you want to?” he asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
His eyes looked unsure, and I had to smile. Now I get it. And I
realized just how stupid I was for not recognizing it earlier. I blamed it on
the alcohol. “No. I don’t want to see other people.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He smiled widely at that. And then he kissed me. It was a soft,
soothing, maple-y kiss. His eyes were still crinkled with a smile when he
pulled back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He stood from his seat and walked towards the fridge, taking out a box
of orange juice. I was secretly celebrating how my kitchen was freshly stocked
with decent food and how perfect everything was with Luke in it. I watched him
fill two glasses before walking a couple steps right back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He sat in front of me again and sipped on his drink, looking at me
intently. I felt like I was chewing on the pancake quite loudly now that no one
else was eating with me, and I felt quite conscious.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“So. I can call you my girlfriend now, right?” he said once the sound
of my chewing had momentarily stopped.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I guess.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“And you can call me your boyfriend now, too. Congratulations,” he
said, faking arrogance that worked well with his messy morning hair.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I only smiled at him, tilting my head a little at the ridiculous way
his cockiness sounded. A second later, he had already pecked on my lips so
quickly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Let’s not shut down on each other again, hmm?” he said after a while,
pausing just before he drank from his glass.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Let’s not.” I agreed, fully understanding he was referring to
himself. “And let’s not get jealous over Jack. Who was flirting with the
bartender last night, by the way.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He pursed his lips guiltily. “I wasn’t.” He was actually trying to
hide a smile while he busied himself looking down on the floor.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Yeah. You weren’t,” I teased. He was just so adorable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Turns out he thought something was up because he found me and Jack
alone at the bar while our friends were out on the floor. And that my awkward
introduction between them was received as shady.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t know how I was supposed to introduce you!” I
said, blushing at how ineffective my introduction skills were. In my defense,
they have never been the best.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Now you do.” He smiled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
We finished our breakfast and cleaned up together. And then we spent
the rest of the morning lounging lazily in the couch, flipping on random TV
channels. The couch was still small for the two of us, but we didn’t mind. I
was only so relieved I didn’t have any case papers I needed to write.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
We later decided we’d go out for lunch after we went to his apartment
for him to change. I’ve never been to his place, which I thought made this
thing between us seem faster than it already was. He’s already my boyfriend and
I’ve never been to his apartment! I was hyperventilating inside, panicking
myself over nothing, knowing it was stupid all the same.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You’re not changing your mind about us, are you?” he nudged me after
he parked his bike. It was as if he had read my mind. I didn’t realize he was
already beside me, waiting for me to walk up to his apartment with him. He took
my hand and pulled me near just enough for me to catch a whiff of his scent.
“’Cause I’m not letting you,” he whispered in my ear before kissing the top of
my head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I was speechless when we entered his apartment. It was spacious and
well-furnished, as if an actual interior designer came in and fixed the place.
My own apartment looked extra shabby in comparison to this, and I wondered why
he never asked me to spend the night instead of the other way around. It would
have been much more comfortable. For the both of us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I won’t be long. Feel at home,” he said before disappearing into his
bedroom. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I went to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water, and saw stuck on
the refrigerator door a photo of him and an older guy who looked so much like
him, but with glasses. That was probably his older brother Seth. Luke always
talked about things he’d done with his brother. But I had never asked Luke what
Seth did for a living. By this picture, he looked so much like a corporate man.
Someone people like me despised and admired for being rich at such a tender
age.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I see you’ve seen my brother,” I heard Luke’s voice from across the
kitchen counter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“He looks so much like you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I want you to meet him soon,” he said, throwing the idea out there
just so very casually. Oh, this man is killing me with his speed. “I’m sure you
two’d get along great. He’s a doctor too, by the way.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh. You never said,” I uttered with a small voice. I looked at the
picture again. The idea of Luke’s older brother being a doctor fit the profile
indeed. And then I realized that was probably why Luke was always so concerned
about me studying. He already knew how hard and time-consuming it was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I had to make you my girlfriend first. Or you’d probably just ditch
me and go after him instead,” he said as he walked over to where I was
standing. “Girls do find Seth hotter, I think.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“That’s a stupid notion.” I put my arms around his neck and kissed him
long and hard. “I think you’re hotter.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You say that now. But I’ll take it.” He smiled his cute smile and
kissed me again, pressing my back flat against the cold fridge. We never got to
eat out for lunch. Or dinner.</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-7626138171481827972014-02-16T02:34:00.000-08:002014-02-16T02:34:51.243-08:00I Think We Know How to Party, Too<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
A/N: Sorry about this late one. Ze boyfriend surprised me with a
Valentine getaway before I finished writing. :/</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
It’s been almost two weeks since I bruised Luke’s chiseled abs. (Yeah,
I just had to put that out there once more.) And he has spent a total of three
nights in my apartment since then.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He always made me breakfast. Which was actually starting to spoil the
heck out of me. And I have yet to be late whenever he was here (since we both
had to go to the same building at the same time). All was doing fine. Until the
post-exam batch party last night, that is.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I’d already told Luke about the upcoming party. I had wanted to ask
him to come with, but I thought he might feel out of place since he hasn’t
really gotten to know a lot of people in my circle yet. He had also said
earlier he’d probably go and visit his brother then, so I figured I wouldn’t
invite him altogether.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Friday arrived and everyone looked like a zombie that morning. You
have got to understand, guys. A week in third year medical school does take its
toll. Everyone’s been taking hits since Monday. And even though partying that
night seemed like a very bad idea over getting some much-needed sleep with this
zombified crowd, I knew everyone was gonna bring their A-game on tonight’s
party. And I was not mistaken.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
When the afternoon class was over, everybody went home. I bagged a
couple hours of sleep before getting ready for the party. I donned a pair of
black leather leggings, a sparkly tank top, and a pair of black high-heeled
ankle booties. And when I arrived at Monica’s place, the party was already in
full swing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
It was almost like a college party, really. Only with a bit older
people with Latin vocabularies and better mixed drinks. The loudness, the
dancing, they were practically the same. These kinds of parties are where
doctors-to-be let loose and forget about just how a doctor-to-be should behave.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I found Anne and Olive dancing their feet off with Jack and Chris, and
I zoomed towards them in an instant. “You guys! Where are the others?” I
shouted over the loud dance music. That was me now. I never know who the artist
is anymore, all I ever really know is when it sounds good.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Getting drinks!” Jack answered. “Have you seen Monica’s bartender?
Tall drink!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I laughed, trying to get a good look at where Jack’s lips were
pointing. Jack was bi, more recently veering towards the gay side, I think,
with the streak of guys he has been going out with. He pulled it off, you know.
He had brown hair, blue eyes, a lean physique, and an academic résumé that made
him hotter than he already was. He literally had looks that appealed strongly
to both sides of the spectrum, me included.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Jack usually hosts these parties in his house because he lived alone
with just a maid for company. His parents are already based abroad and expect
him to follow once he graduates. So basically, he could do whatever he wants.
His parents were in the country this weekend, though, so the party couldn’t
swing at his place this time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Why didn’t you bring Luke with you?” Anne asked while we danced.
“Tommy brought Natalie. And Carmen came with Shane.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“He doesn’t know a lot of people here!” I said defensively. Natalie
and Shane were not medical students. But they have been dating my friends even before
we started medical school. Naturally, we know them already.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“He could <i>meet</i> everyone
here!” Jack interjected with an eye roll.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I considered his response for a moment, and figured he was right. “He
was planning on going to his brother’s, though.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh. Too bad,” Anne said as she downed her drink in one gulp.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
A couple hours into the party, I was already feeling disinhibition: I
was laughing at stupid stuff, saying stupid things… well, basically enjoying
the night. Beer pongs were happening, ridiculous dancing. The stamina of “my
people” is simply commendable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Anne was already getting drunk, too, by the looks of it. She brought
me aside, asked me to go to the bathroom with her, and we both literally almost
fell to the floor because of her drunken, mildly ataxic gait. We laughed
victoriously when we arrived at the bathroom without having to kiss any of
Monica’s carpets.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I asked her to hold onto my purse when it was my turn to use the
bathroom. And when I got out, she was smiling maliciously at me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I did something,” she said, aiming at mysteriousness, but failing at
it miserably. I saw she was clutching my phone in one hand, and both of our
purses in the other.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“What did you do?” I started to panic. Anne was notorious at doing
petty little nuances whenever she got drunk and careless. I love the girl and
all; and we all understood alcohol made people (i.e. Anne) do things. But right
now, I was worried at what she might have just done.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I answered Luke’s call,” she giggled, showing off the phone and waving
it in front of my face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“And?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“He’s coming over!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Why?!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh, don’t worry! I just invited him to come over if he wanted to.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh my God, Anne! Why would you do that? He’s probably at his
brother’s!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“He said he wanted to!” she assured me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I had to run back inside the bathroom and look at myself in the
mirror. Ok, I still had my makeup on fine. And I still looked a bit on the
fresh side.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You look fine!” Anne called on me from the hall. “Hot, actually,” she
said as she held the door open, looking me a once over from head to toe.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“He’s probably at his brother’s, Anne,” I scolded her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“He said he could come.” She smiled and then took my hand and pulled
me back to where the bar was. We both needed fresh drinks. I needed one for my
sudden bout of nerves.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
We found Jack at the bar. He had successfully taken the bartender’s
attention. Turns out Stan was a friend of Monica’s and he was gay, and they
were flirting to and fro, it was crazy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Anne left to dance with the others after getting herself a drink. Me,
on the other hand… my feet were already hurting and my head was kinda buzzing
that I decided to just “thirdwheel” with Jack and Stan. They didn’t seem to
mind. I was busy laughing with Jack at the hilarious joke Stan dropped before
leaving us for a while to make some drinks when someone tapped my shoulder from
behind. “Hi!” I greeted when I turned to see Luke.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Anne invited me,” Luke answered, as though he needed to explain. He
was looking at Jack and me alternately.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
It took me a while before figuring out introductions were apt. I
didn’t really know how to introduce Luke now that we weren’t so much strangers
to each other as before, so I decided to keep it simple. “Jack, this is Luke.
You remember him?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I remember. Hi!” Jack greeted with a wide smile and raised eyebrows,
saving me from my awkward introduction.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Luke, on the other hand, just gave him a small smile. Apparently,
simple introductions were NOT what was expected by both parties.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Let me just slip away and let you two, uhm, interact,” Jack said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I laughed nervously as I watched Jack “slip away” towards where my
other friends were gathered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I didn’t want to impose, I’m sorry,” Luke said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You weren’t. You don’t have to be sorry.” I told him before giving
him a peck on the cheek.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“It seemed you and Jack were having a good time,” he answered bluntly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I was about to tell him about Stan’s joke when Anne and the others
came over and I had to introduce everyone. “Hey guys, this is my friend, Luke.
Luke, this is everyone,” I said before naming the guys in my limited social
circle.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My friends were immediately loud, and I forgot about what Luke had
just said for a while. Luke was a good sport with the non-stop teasing that
erupted, taking on Lee and Tommy’s jests and keeping up with the relatively
strange company. He was impressively at ease and was earning so many points for
being in sync with my friends. He was being less accommodating with Jack,
though, which I thought was weird.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
When the clock struck two, the crowd started to thin out. The couples
Carmen and Shane, and Tommy and Natalie were the first to leave, followed by
Lee and Anne who were sharing a cab since they lived close to each other. I
decided I was tired when Luke asked if I wanted to go home, too, and we said
goodbye to Jack, Olive, and Chris at the bar.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Jack winked at me before we left, looked behind his shoulders towards
Stan the bartender, and raised his eyebrows repeatedly. I laughed. That was his
way of telling me he’s gonna get lucky tonight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
When we got outside, Luke gave me a helmet and helped me on his
motorcycle. He was quiet during the short ride. My apartment was only a block
away from Monica’s. He helped me off again when we arrived in front of my
building.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I was waiting for him to go and park the bike properly so we could
both go up to my apartment, but it seemed he was only waiting for me to go
inside. “It’s too late already and you’ve had a drink. Don’t you want to sleep
over?” I asked, prepared not to take no for an answer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Do you want me to?” he asked. He was still wearing his helmet and was
still astride the black bike. He looked like one wrong move and he’d be off
into the road.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Yes,” I answered, wrinkling my forehead in confusion. I wondered why
he was even asking. I had told him of my discomfort when he rode all alone late
at night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Okay,” he replied. He remained silent until we got inside my unit. He
was acting weird and I didn’t exactly know what was going on.</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-12045135849621560792014-02-14T00:00:00.000-08:002014-02-14T00:00:02.070-08:00Patient-Doctor Relationship<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I was rummaging through my closet for my medical bag. I needed to find
my stethoscope and listen to Luke’s bowel sounds and vital signs fast just to
ease my hypochondriac self-projection. Which at that time was already imagining gastric
perforation or internal hemorrhage. Luke, on the other hand, was sitting calmly
on the couch shirtless with an ice pack in his abdomen’s left upper quadrant.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You don’t really have to. I’m fine, Samantha,” I heard him say again
for the umpteenth time. I looked over my shoulder to see how he’s doing. Again.
His face looked like an awkward morph of amusement and pain.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You’re just saying that,” I responded. For the umpteenth time, too. I
found the blasted steth at last and walked over to Luke in a heartbeat. “Here,
let me see.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I checked his heart rate first, then his pulse rate, his breathing,
and then his bowel sounds. I even threw in a temperature check just to be sure.
He was right. He was fine.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You’re clear, I think,” I told him, hanging the steth around my neck
before checking on the state of his LUQ. It was already starting to bruise.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I told you so,” he muttered smiling at me. “You look good, doctor,”
he said after a while. He touched the steth, craftily caressing my nape, my
throat, and my collarbone along with it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Shut up.” I could tell I was blushing, and he was enjoying every
minute of it, it seemed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“You do,” he murmured, looking straight into my eyes. His fingers
lingered on my collarbone, tracing one side to the other and then back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Does it hurt when you breathe?” I asked, trying to clear my mind. His
bruise did look like I hit part of his lower ribcage too. Again, my
hypochondriac self was imagining rib fractures or something.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“A bit.” His voice was low, barely louder than a whisper. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Does it hurt even when you don’t move?” I don’t even know now why I
was still asking questions. My rational self already knew he was fine.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“No.” He was inching towards me now, and I followed suit. His eyes
looked playful, but I watched his mischievous expression instantly turn into a
wince halfway into moving towards me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“But it hurts when you do, doesn’t it?” I asked worriedly, snapping
back to reality with that pained expression on his face. I felt really bad
about my being clumsy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Y-Yeah.” He sighed, repositioning his back on the couch. “Remind me
never to attack you to the point of injuring myself again.” He attempted at a
laugh but only managed a pained scoff.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I smiled at him and decided I’d bridge the distance myself. It was a
bit tricky, trying to situate myself where I’d be comfortable and he’d be
pain-free. I was certain the position was awkward if somebody else looked in,
but who cared? I certainly didn’t care about anything. Luke didn’t care either.
He was kissing me hungrily and I only wanted more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I sat on his lap carefully, never breaking contact while also making
sure I never jostled the ice pack too much. His hands immediately went to my
nape, bringing me closer to him as if I still needed to.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I was breathing hard in between kissing him, and I could hear him
panting, too. I could feel him grow hard beneath me which only made me want him
more. Something about me being careful not to bump into his injury and him
<i>wanting </i>to be more aggressive was just so arousing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I started grinding slowly astride him, channeling a teasing vibe and
hoping it worked. It did. He grabbed me by my waist, urging me to go harder as
he kissed and licked my throat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He winced again after a while, and I had to stop. “Are you okay?” I
had to ask. I was not a selfish bitch. Even though I very much wanted to be at
that very moment.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I’m fine. Just… don’t stop,” he said, looking at me intently before
kissing my throat again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I was so sure I wasn’t just about to stop worrying about him, but his lips began to
move south as he unhooked the bra beneath my shirt, and his hands started
working their magic. My mind was a blur.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Take this off,” he whispered hurriedly as he brought his lips to my
ear, tugging at the fly of my pants. I never noticed he had had it unzipped
already. I stood in front of him and obliged, taking my shirt off too and leaving
my panties on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He sat up straight and took off his own pants, hiding a wince that was
so noticeable. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I had to ask again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Are you sure we’re not teens and you’re the boy in this situation?”
he smiled jokingly as he copied my intonation. “I’m fine. Stop worrying about
me. Come here.” He pulled on my hand and sat me astride him once again. This time
his arousal was ever so palpable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He pulled me up, sucking on my breasts when they reached his eye level
as he took off his boxers. His other hand slipped between my legs, pushing my
panties to one side. I shuddered. Then he pulled me back to him as he began
easing into me, oh so deliciously slowly, his hands pressed tightly on my waist.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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He guided the pace the entire time, and I let him. Until we were both gasping
for breath. I curled up beside him after, and he put his arm around me.</div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Let’s get to bed, hm?” he whispered as I dwindled in between
consciousness. I merely nodded my agreement.</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-13352900502894565662014-02-07T05:24:00.000-08:002014-02-07T05:31:38.693-08:00Date Number Two Part Deux<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I found myself looking at the coastline ten minutes into the ride from
the diner. The road was practically empty and the ride was a breeze. “Where are
we going?” I asked Luke again, but this time he just laughed.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We slowed to a stop at a restaurant that looked like a big expanded
hut. The sign said they served Italian and I was nothing but delighted. I
remember saying to Luke in passing about how much I loved Italian. I couldn’t
believe he remembered it!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Luke propped the bike into place again and helped me off it before he
set the stand into place. “Wait here,” he said as he took off his helmet and
hung it onto the handlebar. He flashed me a big smile before he dashed inside
the hut.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I’d bet you a dollar I probably looked like an idiot standing in the
tiny parking lot, wearing a helmet with crossed arms as I looked from the bike
to the hut and then back again. I did that for about five minutes until Luke
came back out with a picnic basket in his hand.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“This is lunch!” he excitedly said as he walk-jogged towards me,
raising the big basket as if I could not have seen it if he didn’t. My mouth
watered when he was near enough – I didn’t know whether it was the yummy waft
coming from inside the picnic basket or Luke’s clean scent coming in with the
sea breeze.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Where are we eating?” I asked in confusion. The basket was too big
for the motorcycle.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Come, I’ll show you,” he was smiling from ear to ear. I started to
walk towards him when he chuckled “Take off your helmet first, missy.” My face
could not have gone any redder with embarrassment.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We walked around the hut until we found a set of stone steps that led
from the concrete road to the sandy beach. Luke held the basket in one hand,
and led my hand in the other. Thank goodness he said no heels. Those steps
would’ve toppled me over. And the sand underneath would’ve been a nightmare.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
We walked a bit until Luke found the spot he was looking for – a sandy
alcove guarded by big rocks, facing the sea.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He set everything up in five minutes, I think. And our lunch was a
gift from the gods. Assorted pizza slices piled on top of each other,
over-stuffed lasagna, garlic bread, and white wine. It was simple and rustic,
and I loved every bit of it. That, plus the view beside me and in front of me
was marvelous.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Do you… uh… like it?” he asked hesitantly as I was delightedly
chewing onto a garlic bread I just got my hands into.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I love everything about it!” I answered immediately (after I
swallowed the bread, of course!). He smiled sweetly at me then, and I swooned
at just how adorable he really was.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
We spent the time eating and talking about everything under the sun.
Until he noticed the writing on the shirt I was wearing. “I knew I’ve seen that
wolf somewhere!” he exclaimed. That was when we both realized we were big fans
of Game of Thrones (the TV series, sadly, but I take what I can get!).</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Well, I don’t really know how it happened, but one minute we were
bashing King Joffrey, the next we were glued together on the lips. I had my
back on the blanket while he was lying sideways, leaning over as he was kissing
me with his one arm supporting his head lazily and his other arm draped across
my belly, his hand feeling the curve where my waist became my hip. His hand
would slide up, merely grazing the swell of my breast before he would slide it
back down to my thighs.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Things were heating up and I felt quite adventurous knowing the rocks
kept us hidden from sight. I felt his arousal poking my thigh which only
stirred my excitement more. I rolled myself sideways to get a better angle as
he started kissing me more intensely. I was only too glad to reciprocate.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I still have something else planned, you know,” he murmured a little
while later in between kissing me. I barely understood a word. “I planned the
entire day out.” I could feel his lips curling into a smile.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“What? Why?” I asked confusedly. I was so okay with just this,
honestly. He chuckled. The sound was beginning to become music to my ears.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Let’s go, hmm?” he breathed into my ear which sent shivers down my
spine. I said okay without even knowing what I just agreed to.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
We were back in his bike in no time. I clung onto him tightly as we sped
down the road, past the rundown diner, and silently wishing it was to my
apartment we were going. I knew it was nearer than his place. (<i>I didn’t stalk him, he told me!</i> said my
defensive ego.)</div>
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<br /></div>
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I didn’t really notice how long Luke and I had been out until I looked
down on my watch that said 6:30 when he was parking the bike straight in front
of my building. I didn’t really care. I just wanted Luke to continue what he
was doing at the beach.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
My door had only been shut when he reached and grabbed me towards him,
and we literally fell to the heavenly couch that was waiting for us. It might
have been a dreamy affair, except it was not. I fell on Luke and accidentally
elbowed his tummy. Hard.</div>
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<br /></div>
Suffice it to say that all of my lust got drained out by his
yelp of pain. Curses! I was never meant to get my fix today, was I?Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-84343271073034614812014-01-31T00:00:00.000-08:002014-01-31T00:00:02.932-08:00Date Number Two<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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 <i>other topics </i>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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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 <i>entire</i> block. And he’s notorious for
giving out WTF exam questions. Ugh.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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!).</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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 <i>own</i> leather.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Who told you I was bringing a bike?” Luke greeted me with a kiss and
a hug. “You rough up really good.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I laughed at that. “Thank you, I guess. You look good, too.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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 <i>this </i>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!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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>I could do this all day.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Where are we going?” I asked, almost sure my voice sounded too
dreamy.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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, <i>not</i> on a diner.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“No apple pie?” Luke asked, looking disappointed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh, of course there’s always some for you,” the waitress said. “So
it’ll be the usual then?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“So, you seem to be a regular,” I smiled at Luke as the waitress
sauntered towards the direction of the counter.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“What can I say? I <i>love</i>
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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Is this lunch?” I joked as I forked the legendary pie.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.<a href="" name="_GoBack"></a></div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-38716108685733512332014-01-15T05:58:00.000-08:002014-01-15T05:58:00.644-08:00What Happened Last Night<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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 <i>really </i>heated (both of our shirts were on the floor), he pulled
away and practically begged for us to stop.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I woke up the next day with a note at my bedside table that said:</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
Had to go home and change into my uniform. I’ll call you
about that date.–L</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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!).</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-37066136368105143802014-01-13T00:00:00.001-08:002014-01-13T00:00:03.448-08:00Two Papers, One Rock Star, No Scissors<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Please, you don’t have to make me feel good by false flattery. I <i>know </i>I’ve had better days. I haven’t
slept in like 36 hours,” I said without being able to avoid giggling.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He smiled sheepishly at that and then laughed shyly, “I <i>do </i>think you look nice, given the
circumstances. But, uhm, you <i>have </i>had,
uhm, better days.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“That’s better. And thank you. I like me some honesty. <i>You</i> 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).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Err, that won’t do. I haven’t really had dinner yet. I’m gonna get
myself a sandwich. What would you like?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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, <i>really</i> 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.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Wow, I didn’t think you’d actually finish <i>everything</i>,” 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.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Eww. I don’t do that. I don’t even have <i>time</i> to do that.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“<i>You</i> shouldn’t be out, too,”
I shot back at him with a smile. “And I just live a block away.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Come on, do the paper already.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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 <i>lot</i> of groping and petting involved.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh please, I <i>rock</i> 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 <i>very</i> generous
tipper. Maybe it was his way of apologizing to the waitress who endured our PDA?</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-7068024243450623662014-01-10T00:00:00.000-08:002014-01-10T00:00:06.645-08:00Hell Week Extended Version<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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??</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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 <i>wanted</i> 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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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 <i>all night</i>.
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 <i>is </i>already
cramming at my level: 5 subjects in first year versus a whopping 13 in third
year, there’s no surprise there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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 <i>the </i>worst day of the week), all celebratory plans have been cancelled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
The elevator posts say your exams ended today. Congrats! And
get the sleep you deserve. Then, how about that second date?</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
I smiled and texted him back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
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?</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
You in the coffee place? I could come over.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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 <i>has </i>to be the last sure thing that
<i>could </i>keep me awake.</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-39737128420097273512014-01-08T00:00:00.002-08:002014-01-08T00:00:04.199-08:00A Not-So-Hell-Week-Thursday<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
Anyways, this Thursday is posed to be even worse because <i>it’s in Hell Week </i>(that’s the Thursday to
Wednesday before the exams)<i>.</i> We’re
not supposed to have papers from this subject the week before exams, but the <i>outstanding</i> 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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Doctor?” I answered meekly. Is this really happening? I was
fangirling inside! (Not to mention playing a thousand scenarios in my head.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Er, are you okay?” Carmen asked, playfully snapping fingers in front
of me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Calm down, Miller,” Anne smirked. “But just as promised, I looked. And
there was no ring on that finger.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Hey, you,” Luke greeted me. He wasn’t wearing his blue uniform and
was looking good in dark washed jeans and a navy shirt.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Hi,” I smiled back. “You look nice.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
He laughed shyly at the compliment. “Thanks. I hope you don’t mind me
waiting for you here.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Uh… why were you?” I was so sure we had set our second date for after
exams. Didn’t we?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I’ll walk you home, if you want. I mean, if you won’t be taking a
cab,” he joked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-70352368586105075022014-01-06T00:00:00.000-08:002014-01-06T00:00:08.172-08:00Flirting Over Coffee<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Sorry about that. My friends are really silly sometimes,” I said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Like a date or something?” I asked, and how very silly of me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Oh my God, I am so sorry about that! I am never myself when I am in a
hurry!” I apologized profusely.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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 <i>then</i> I had to explain.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-41536248009467943972014-01-03T00:00:00.000-08:002014-01-03T00:00:04.974-08:00Call the Doctor Very Quick!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I can learn that later. For now, I need my Richard Armitage dose,”
she responded before shushing me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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. <i>If the target was not on you.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="text-align: justify;">“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”.</span>Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-4792480316440663362014-01-01T05:04:00.006-08:002014-01-01T05:39:41.176-08:00In My Dreams<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“I know who it is, so quit dangling the information in front of me,
stupid,” I shot her down jokingly. “Seriously, how can I <i>not</i> 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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“’Morning,” I mumbled back. I can’t believe he is seeing me again on a
great rush!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<span style="text-align: justify;">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.</span>Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-32523669465152036862013-12-22T17:05:00.002-08:002013-12-22T17:05:48.995-08:00Elevator Rides Are Fun<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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. <i>These freshmen need to learn how they are
not going to fit all of them in one elevator ride</i>, 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?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“Samantha,” I almost stammered as I shook his hand. He was too cute
when he smiled!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1303573381046359884.post-62655583275210992422013-12-22T06:21:00.001-08:002014-02-22T01:57:31.392-08:00The Great Rush<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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!).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
“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.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
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.</div>
Mishahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09689944904225321891noreply@blogger.com0