by Cara Malone
“How old are you, anyway?” Megan asked, and then without waiting for Alex’s answer she said, “I’m going to guess eighteen.”
“Fifteen,” Alex answered, grinning even though no one could see it. Megan had a way of putting a smile on her face.
“Am I on a recorded line?” Megan asked. “Usually the scene with Chris Hansen happens before people hook up, not after.”
Alex laughed and said, “I’m twenty.”
“Oh boy,” Megan said with a heavy sigh. “That’s entirely too old for me.”
Now it was Alex’s turn to laugh, as she asked, “You can’t be much older than that. How old are you?”
“Twenty-three,” Megan said with a heavy sigh. “So you see, I’m going to have to shut this down.”
“And what is this?” Alex asked coyly, her teeth grazing her lower lip as she waited anxiously for Megan’s response. She was feeling jittery and a little bit lovestruck, and it took her off-guard every time she talked to Megan.
“I don’t know,” Megan said, and then disappointingly, she steered the conversation to the one thing Alex wanted to avoid. “I was actually calling to see if I did something wrong this morning.”
“Umm,” Alex hedged, wondering what to say and how honest she should be. She’d been so hopeful about skipping this talk altogether, but of course Megan would want an explanation. Alex settled on, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It was great, actually.”
“So great you couldn’t stand being there a minute longer?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve kissed someone,” Alex said, putting her hand over her face to ward off the embarrassment rising in her cheeks. This would be a much easier conversation to have in person, or with her therapist, or anyone other than the beautiful girl who had witnessed her insecurity first-hand this morning. She wondered how much she should tell Megan, but she had to say something more otherwise it would sound like she was confessing to being an inexperienced bundle of nerves. She blurted, “My dad died.”
“Oh,” Megan said, as surprised as Alex that’s she’d said that. “I’m sorry.”
“Not recently,” Alex added. She had no idea why she was telling this to Megan, but she’d started it now so she had to finish the story. “It was a little over a year ago. Heart attack.”
“Oh,” Megan said again, and then, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Alex hated that phrase. It wasn’t Megan’s fault, nor any of the dozens of other people who said it to Alex and her mother in the past year, but as far as condolences went, it never did much for her. She didn’t lose her father. He hadn’t slipped between the couch cushions or wandered off at the grocery store or been left behind on the bus. But there was no better phrase available, and I’m sorry for your loss was just one of those things that Alex had to get used to hearing.
“Thanks,” she said. “Anyway, I haven’t really been with anyone since, or wanted to. I guess I freaked out a little bit.”
“That’s understandable,” Megan said.
She paused for a long time, and then Alex quietly asked, “So what do we do now?”
“Well, I don’t want to bother you if you’d rather not be bothered,” Megan hedged, and Alex was quick to cut her off.
“No,” she said. “Bother me, please.”
This was another response she hadn’t been expecting from herself. Spending the whole morning pushing away thoughts of the call room had the effect of denying Alex an opportunity to explore her feelings on the subject, and now that she had she found that the feelings of guilt were outweighed by the strange, spirit-lifting effect that Megan had on her.
She added, “I think I just need to take it slow.”
“I don’t mind going slow,” Megan said, and now her voice had taken on the seductive tone she’d used to such great effect in the hospital earlier. “Slow can be fun.”
“Thanks,” Alex answered gratefully.
“Well, I have to run to a lecture in a few minutes,” Megan said. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and I didn’t do something idiotic earlier. Do you want to get together again sometime, maybe outside of the hospital?”
“I’d like that,” Alex said with a big, goofy grin on her face.
They hung up and Alex noticed that her phone’s alarm had gone off while they were talking—it was the one she set every afternoon to remember her pill—and she went into the bathroom.
She shook one into her palm and looked into the bottom of the pill bottle. There was a possibility that it wouldn’t matter how slow she and Megan went—if she kept taking these pills, she might never be able to feel their relationship, physically or emotionally. Alex was getting really tired of being numb, of merely subsisting rather than living, and Megan made her see what she was missing for the first time in a long while. Alex couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled with such genuine emotion.
She took the pill, then called her therapist to reschedule her weekly appointment to an earlier time slot. She decided it was time to remember what it was like to feel her emotions, and feel someone else’s body against hers. It was time to start tapering off the pills.
Thirteen
“What are you smiling about?” Ivy asked, rolling her eyes as Megan narrowly avoided running into her—again.
This time, it wasn’t the hospital lab. It was the door to the lecture hall, and Megan had been so preoccupied with her phone that she didn’t even notice Ivy power-walking toward the door. Megan had promised Alex that they would take things slowly, but that didn’t mean she could resist the urge to send her a few flirtatious texts.
It had begun the morning after they talked on the phone. Megan woke up and Alex was the first thing on her mind, but she had a full schedule ahead of her that day and no time to convince Alex that they should meet up, perhaps to continue what they’d started in the call room. So instead, she sent her a text (I think I had a dream about you last night.), blushed a little as she hit send, and then put her phone down as she went to take a shower and get ready for the day.
When she got back to her room twenty minutes later, a message was waiting for her.
What kind of dream?
Megan didn’t have the benefit of reading Alex’s expression to see whether there was flirtation behind that question, but just reading her words sent a shiver of warm desire through Megan and she wanted to believe that there was. She wrote back—The best kind.—and thus began a stream of nearly constant texts back and forth with the girl with the steely eyes.
When Ivy questioned her dopy expression, though, Megan snapped out of it for a moment, holding her phone down by her side and retorting, “Oh, I was just remembering the look on your face last week when Dr. Morrow corrected you in front of the class. Who at this stage in their education doesn’t know that carbaminohemoglobin binds with carbon dioxide?”
“I know that,” Ivy said, her teeth clenched as she spoke.
It was very obvious that Megan’s words had gotten to her—it may have been less of a blow if Megan had literally punched Ivy in the gut just then—and for an instant, Megan felt bad. After a year of this rivalry, she wasn’t even sure exactly why they were so relentlessly harsh with each other, but one thing was for sure—Ivy started it. Megan would have been perfectly happy to be friends, but what began with a snarky comment in the college bookstore on the first day of medical school quickly morphed into genuine animosity, and now she played along out of habit, and because she knew Ivy’s next attack was never far away.
“I knew the answer wasn’t oxyhemoglobin,” Ivy went on, determined to make her point. “I just misspoke.”
“Tell it to Dr. Morrow,” Megan said, her phone vibrating in her hand.
She began to raise it to read the message, mostly on reflex because the conversation she and Alex were in the middle of was not something she intended to continue while she was standing in front of Ivy and they were holding up the line of students entering the lecture hall. But before she even had a chance to look at he
r phone, Ivy snatched it out of her hand.
“What the hell,” Megan began to object, reaching for it, and Ivy read the screen. Her eyes went wide and then she scowled at Megan as she handed the phone back, letting go a moment too soon and forcing Megan to grab for it before it fell to the floor.
“Idiot,” Ivy snarled at her, and then she went to the front of the room to take her customary seat in the front row.
Megan stepped out of the way of the line forming behind her, feeling irritated by Ivy and her constant snarky remarks. She sat down at a desk in the middle of the room and checked the message that had come through.
Tell me about the dream you had of me. Tell me how it made you feel ;)
A small smile formed on Megan’s lips again, and even though Ivy couldn’t see it from where she was sitting, Megan did her best to suppress it. On one hand, she was having a hell of a lot of fun talking to Alex, and needing to take things slow just made the anticipation that much greater. On the other hand, hadn’t Megan just told herself less than twenty-four hours earlier that she didn’t have time for Alex, or any girl for that matter? Ivy’s invectives only served to remind her of that, and Megan couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she was doing.
She bit her lower lip and put her thumbs to the screen, figuring that it wouldn’t hurt to indulge Alex’s curiosity while Megan was waiting for class to start, but before she had a chance to respond, Chloe slid into the seat beside hers.
“Hey, roomie,” she chirped as she got out her laptop and prepared for class.
“Hi,” Megan answered, putting her phone in her backpack as she did the same. It would be too strange to flirt with Alex while Chloe sat right next to her, and she couldn’t get away with that during class, anyway. It was one thing to give some of her free time to Alex, but it was a whole other level of uncharacteristic behavior to ignore the lecture in favor of her.
“What did you think of the readings last night?” Chloe asked. “You were already in your room by the time I got home, so I didn’t get a chance to ask.”
Reviewing lectures and homework assignments was one of Chloe’s daily rituals, which she and Megan usually did over coffee on mornings when neither of them had to run off to an early morning class. It was one of the best things about rooming with another medical student—Chloe kept Megan focused. In fact, she had pretty much the exact opposite effect that Alex had on Megan.
“Umm,” she said. She had done the readings—she never missed an assignment, especially with Ivy lying in wait for the day that Megan showed weakness—but after her phone conversation with Alex, she’d been so distracted thinking about her that she didn’t commit very much of what she read to memory. She had no choice but to make something up. “I’m looking forward to hearing Dr. Morrow’s take on that bacterial respiratory infection article. What about you?”
Chloe started rattling off her impressions and thoughts on the article, and Megan felt guilty for not having a better answer. She wasn’t prepared for this class like she wanted to be, and if she wanted to keep her class rank, that couldn’t happen again. Dr. Morrow approached the podium at the head of the room and Megan pulled out her notes on the respiratory system. They were nearly halfway done with this module already, and the semester was beginning to really fly by.
After class, Chloe headed across campus to do some research for the end-of-module paper that would be due around Thanksgiving, and Megan headed back to the apartment. As soon as she was alone, she dug her phone out of her backpack and returned to her conversation with Alex. As much as she had told herself to pay attention during Dr. Morrow’s lecture and push Alex out of her mind, Megan had been unsuccessful.
She wasn’t really sure what it was about Alex that made her so interesting. Maybe it was the effortless way that they spoke to each other—usually when Megan met someone knew, there was a period of awkwardness while they became accustomed to each other, but with Alex, it was instantaneous. Or maybe it was the silent strength that Megan could feel whenever she was around Alex. There was something about her that said she’d been hurt, but that she was strong enough to overcome anything the world threw at her. Megan was drawn to that, because at least in the romance department, she felt very much the opposite.
Her first and only long-term relationship, with a girl named Ruby who she grew up with, fell in love with, went to college with, had ended in a spectacular explosion of pain and hurt feelings, and Megan had been largely to blame for it. Now she was afraid to get close to someone new lest she replay that whole story again and hurt someone else the way she hurt Ruby. Megan knew she should keep her distance from Alex, for both of their sakes, but it was hard to do when she couldn’t stop thinking about her.
She responded to Alex’s last text, asking for details of her dream.
Well, it started in a hospital call room…
Fourteen
The next time Alex and Megan met was about a week and a half after their hospital adventure, and the mid-October air had become colder as Alex headed to Northwestern’s library. She was very busy, between classes and labs and research assignments, and Alex had her own schedule to keep to, so in the end it was easiest for Alex to meet Megan after one of her daily study sessions. The university library was far bigger and more comprehensive than the small room full of reference books and computer terminals that was the library at Evanston Community College, and Alex counted herself lucky to find Megan at all in the maze of shelves and study carrels.
“There you are,” Megan said as she approached, shutting her laptop and standing to greet her. “Find it okay?”
“Eventually,” Alex said with a laugh. Megan’s small desk was piled with books and Alex nodded to them, asking, “What are you studying?”
“The nervous system,” Megan said. “It’s never too early to start preparing for exams, and I’m also doing a literature review for my research project. I decided to dig a little further into the meningitis case we saw and I’ve been talking to one of the interns who worked in the ER the day that Paul Goulding was there.”
“That case really intrigued you,” Alex observed.
“It’s just kind of crazy that there could be a bacterium out there that’s strong enough to kill someone in such a short time, and yet no one even recognized it until the autopsy,” Megan said. Then she shook her head and said, “Anyway, we were going to get coffee. You ready?”
“Yep,” Alex said with a smile. “We never did make it to the hospital cafeteria, so I think you owe me one.”
“I owe you?” Megan asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “How do you figure?”
“You’re the one that got amorous in the call room,” Alex pointed out.
“I seem to remember you enjoying that moment, too,” Megan said, and Alex blushed, suddenly aware of the other people in the study carrels around them.
“Shh,” she said, but they all just kept their heads down and she added with a smirk, “Fine, I’ll buy.”
“I was just teasing,” Megan said as she scooped up her laptop and some loose papers and started putting them in her backpack. “I’d love to buy you a cup of coffee, as long as you don’t drink that sugary unicorn crap that costs seven dollars a cup.”
“Oh, I forgot,” Alex said, tapping her fingernail on the cover of Megan’s expensive laptop as she slid it into her bag. “You’re broke.”
“Completely,” Megan said. “I had to smash my piggy bank to take you out today, so you better be happy with a small black coffee.”
“I’ll do my best to be a cheap date,” Alex said, shooting her a smile. It was always so easy to banter with Megan, and so much fun to push her buttons.
She watched Megan pick up the remaining books on her desk and carry them over to a book cart at the end of an aisle, and then Megan waved Alex over, saying, “Hey, come here. I want to show you something.”
“What?” Alex asked, following her into the stacks.
Megan reached for her hand, sending excitement rushing into Alex’s cheeks.
They’d spent a whole week sending flirtatious text messages back and forth to each other, and it was nice to feel Megan’s hand in hers after all that built-up tension.
They made it about halfway down the row before Megan whispered her reply. “This.”
And then she pulled Alex into a slow, smoldering kiss. Alex felt her cheeks growing even warmer, her whole body tingling from the softness of Megan’s lips. She’d missed that feeling, and she was apprehensive about it, too. What if Megan didn’t want to go slow, or wasn’t content with the flirtatious text messages they’d been exchanging? Alex’s heart leaped into her throat every time she saw Megan’s name flash across her phone screen, but she didn’t know how her body would react to her in person. She’d made a plan with her therapist to taper off her anti-depressants—she was ready to re-enter the world of the living as long as Megan helped her ease into it. But it would take a while to get all the medication out of her system, and in the back of her mind there was the lingering fear that she had sacrificed her sexual drive for a little bit of numbness.
It had been so long since anything really felt good, and Megan was so beautiful, so seductive, it scared Alex.
She pulled away from the kiss, intent on coming clean to Megan about the reason why she’d asked to take things slow, but before she got the chance, she heard someone clear their throat at the end of the aisle. Alex took a step away from Megan and they both turned to look at the source of the interruption—a petite girl with a comically large pile of medical textbooks in her arms who had paused at the end of the row to glower at them.
“Crap,” Megan muttered as she caught sight of her, and they exchanged scowls before the girl went on her way.
“You know her?” Alex asked when she was gone.
“She’s my med school nemesis, Ivy,” Megan said. Then, shaking it off, she reached for Alex’s hand again. “Should we go get that coffee?”