by Camryn Eyde
Tricky Wisdom: Year I
By Camryn Eyde
Copyright 2015 Camryn Eyde
Tricky Wisdom
Kindle Edition
Published September 2015
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is unintentional and purely coincidental
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
Cover design by Camryn Eyde
Authors Note
This is a piece of fiction, and while the greatest care has been taken to be as medically accurate as possible, I send my heartfelt apologies to any medically-trained readers at the off-chance I’ve mixed up the ileum with the ilium. I’m not a doctor, I’ve never been to medical school, and I’m certain I’ve grossly underestimated just how hard it is to train to become a physician. To those that have dedicated their lives to healing others, you have my utmost respect.
For
All the dedicated healers in the world…
…and for L. You’re a special lady.
YEAR I
Chapter One
Perfect. She was just damn perfect.
I sighed and continued waving at the speck that was my best friend as the bus gained momentum. She had stood at the bus terminal in a summer frock that showed off all that olive skin that I longed to touch. Moving away was unavoidable. Studying to become a doctor was rather difficult in a town boasting a total population of one thousand. I sighed again and thought of Taylor’s beatific smile. Of her twinkling blue eyes. Of those full plump lips I had been staring at since I was thirteen and wondering what they’d taste like.
I sighed, thinking of the night before when I had been given the perfect moment to tell my best friend how I felt.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Taylor had said, hugging me tight and stalling our progress to the lakeside docks.
“Me too,” I said, hugging her back just as tight and mentally mapping the way her body fit against mine. For the millionth time, I cringed at myself taking advantage of moments like these. If Taylor knew, I was pretty sure all our public displays of platonic affection would cease to exist.
“I want to keep you here in my arms forever,” she had whispered against my neck.
Goosebumps erupted across my body. “I want to stay here forever,” I whispered back against the blonde hair falling down over her shoulders. I licked my lips, my mouth turning dry as I tried to work up the courage to tell her I’d been head over heels in love with her for years. “Tay, I…the thing is. I’m kind of…well…I…”
“You?” Taylor said, pulling back a little to look at me.
I chickened out, that’s what I did. “I’ll miss you.”
She smiled and pecked me on the mouth in the one-thousand-two-hundred and twenty-first time. She had been my first kiss. My first closed-mouth, totally platonic, nothing is ever going to come from this kiss.
“I’ll miss you too. Now, let’s get to the bonfire. I bet Jack is there.”
I rolled my eyes the moment she turned. Jack was the high school sweetheart that took her innocence in middle school. A milestone that felt like having hot pokers jabbed into my heart and ears. Jack was henceforth my mortal enemy. It was a shame he was the local doctor’s son. A man I considered my hero.
“Yay,” I muttered, unable to keep my disapproval from my voice.
“Careful, Darce, you’re beginning to sound jealous.” Taylor laughed over her shoulder.
Well, duh!
I sighed, bringing myself back to the present as the bus leaned into a corner. Last semester, I had completed my pre-med requirements and had applied with fingers crossed to Harvard University. I figured if I’m going to study to become a doctor, then I’m going to do it at the best university I could find. Thankfully, my undergraduate degree was completed with honors and my letters of recommendation from my state university had been overflowing with praise. A tense few months, lots of exams, and some nail biting as I waited for my MCAT scores, plus a long-winded letter pleading for financial aid later, here I was on the way to Boston with a rigorous four years ahead of me. I couldn’t help sighing…again.
“Careful, dear.”
I looked to Mrs. Henderson sitting across the aisle from me. “Pardon?”
“All that sighing. It’ll give you an aneurysm.”
As a pre-med student, I knew that was a bunch of hokum, but I smiled and nodded at her anyway.
“Besides, how can someone as young as you have such weighty matters getting them down?”
“I’m just going to miss home. First time away and all that.”
Mrs. Henderson raised her painted-on eyebrows at me. “Fibs will clog your arteries.”
“What?”
“If memory serves, this is, in fact, your sixth time away from home.”
I blinked. Mrs. Henderson, the town know-it-all, was right. Scout camp, that time we visited a dying relative, and the trips to university for my undergrad. “Well, this is the first time I’m going away with no intention of coming back for months. Maybe years.”
Mrs. Henderson nodded in understanding. “Very well, dear.”
Thinking that was the end of it, I went back to watching the countryside zip past the window on the way to the St. Paul Airport in Minneapolis. Mrs. Henderson had other ideas. Considering we were the only two on the bus, discounting Gus, the driver, her need to chatter was solely my problem.
“You must be diligent in the city, dear,” she told me at the start of a very long lecture about miscreants, deviants, insurgents intent on ruining civilization, and your common everyday criminal out to steal a young woman’s virtue. We just passed the airport welcome sign when she finished her six-hour story. “… and that’s when Dorothy thought she saw her late husband’s ghost. Right there, standing on the porch as if he was coming home from the mines.”
Tuning back in on the last sentence, I stared at her agape. “Huh?”
“Dorothy, dear.”
I nodded and made a humming noise as if I completely understood her inane ramblings. “We’re here,” I said, distracting her from frowning at me.
“Oh, yes. We are. Now, remember, dear, stay away from ghosts, gypsies and politicians. Remember what happened to Dorothy and you’ll be fine.”
“Ah…you betcha.”
Harvard pre-med. One of the most competitive and daunting schools I could think of, and that was downright scary enough. Even more worrisome was discovering the apartment you were barely able to afford a room at was occupied by a roommate with a serious personality disorder.
Olivia Boyd entered my life with a sneer and disapproving blue eyes raking over my casual, country-girl look. She was taller than me by a four-inch margin, she was also slimmer, which was difficult to achieve. My metabolism made my eating habits the envy of everyone I knew. Olivia wore a professional look. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy-but-trendy bun and the wisps fell gently on narrow shoulders. I envied her hair instantly. Mine was dark as well, but growing length was challenging, so I kept it just long enough to scrape into a tiny ponytail.
She crossed her arms over a gray vest and a crisp white shirt. Grey trousers completed the look as they descended to the ground to heel-clad feet. That explained her height. Without those shoes, she’d be a good two inches shorter.
“And you are?” she said, distaste in her words. I couldn’t decide whether it was because of my presence, or the fact I just assessed her clothing.
“I’m Darcy,” I said, holding out my hand for her to take. She sneered at it.
“And you’re studying at Harvard?”
“Yes.”
Her lip curled. “As what?”
I furrowed my brow. “Pardon?”
“Are you one of those charity cases universities take on from time to time?”
“Charity case? No.”
She hummed.
I shook my head at her and inspected the rooms I had blindly signed my life over to for the next few years. The place wasn’t large. In fact, I could see the entirety of it from my position by the front door. Olivia stood just to my side at the entrance to the pokey kitchen. In front of us was a four-chair table, a two-seater sofa surrounding an outdated entertainment system and a small balcony giving us a view of the city from our third floor. Turning my head away from Olivia, I could see two large desks placed against the walls in the space between the doors to the bedrooms and bathroom.
“My room is the one on the left.”
I shrugged. I didn’t care where I slept. “Are you taking the left desk, too?” I asked, picking up my suitcase and entering my new room. The single bed took up most of the space, and a closet and night table completed the bedroom ensemble.
“Yes,” Olivia said, answering my question.
Dumping my bag, I returned to the living area and looked at the place I would most likely be sitting for the majority of the next few years. The desk was old and marred with dents, etched initials of past students and random lines of ink from wayward pens. Coffee stains had replaced the varnish that once existed on the table top.
“So…” I said with a long exhale. “What are you studying?”
“Pre-med,” Olivia said curtly.
“What did you major in?” I said, referring to the undergraduate degree she had to have taken to apply in the first place.
“Biochemistry.”
Impressed, I nodded. “I stu—”
She held up a hand. “I’m not interested in whatever humanitarian program got you here. I can only assume you’re going to be commuting to and from the main campus. Which, if I’m honest, makes your decision to live south of the river an astonishing one.”
I shrugged. “I like living on the wild side.”
She sneered. “Yes, well, considering that I have something that will assure our time in this apartment will go smoothly.”
“Oh?” She produced a thick document and handed it to me. I read the term Roommate Agreement on the cover. “Seriously?”
“Very.” She indicated for me to sit in the lounge space with her.
“You watch too much TV.”
She looked offended. “I abhor television.”
“Then what’s with this Sheldon book,” I said, tapping the document in my hand.
“Who’s Sheldon?”
I gave her my best are-you-serious look. “Big Bang Theory,” I offered as a clue.
She looked confused. “I’m sorry, I have no interest in the theories of astrophysics.”
“What? That’s not…never mind.” I rubbed my temple and tried to ease the ache forming there.
“This document, something I downloaded from the internet I’ll have you know, ensures a harmonious living environment. Essentially, it’s an agreement to respect each other’s space, need for quiet study, and to ensure our living space stays as clean as possible.”
I flicked through the novel. It looked like jargon to me.
“My program of study is rigorous and requires a significant amount of dedication. Unlike yourself, I have no time to waste on trivialities such as a social life.”
I shook my head at her second assumption that I was here doing social sciences or some other arts-like degree. I preferred to keep her clueless and planned to savor the look on her face when I turned up in all her classes.
She handed me a green piece of paper. “Here’s a list of addendums.”
“Of who-what?”
“Addendums. My preferences for a roommate that ensure I have a quiet residence to complete my MD.”
I scanned her list.
No television in my presence.
No music of any sort – use headphones.
No visitors. Relatives included.
No significant others.
No gossip and inane conversation.
Cell phones to remain on mute within the house.
Refrain from utilizing my food.
The list continued down the page.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I don’t kid.”
“Yeah, that I can tell.” I huffed and tossed the paperwork to the coffee table. “I’m not signing that.”
“You must.”
“No, I mustn’t.” I stood and stretched. “I’m not a slob. I respect other people, and I have no friends or significant others to invite here. My phone doesn’t have an obnoxious ringtone. I don’t watch much television, and I love my headphones. I’m here to study, not to party.”
She rose to look me in the eye. “Very well, then. Perhaps this documentation is unnecessary.”
Hell, yes, it is. I hummed a response and went to the kitchen in search of a snack. The fridge was stocked with a ton of fresh food. None of it mine. “You cook?” I asked as I stared at the ingredients in there. Some completely foreign.
“Of course I do.”
I scoffed to myself. I bit my lip in thought. I couldn’t cook worth a damn, and nor could I afford take out every day. I had planned on surviving on noodles for the next few years regardless of all the hype about them being coated in plastic. I shut the fridge door with a sigh. “Where’s the local grocery store?”
“Depends. Are you interested in a 7-Eleven or a market that sells actual food?”
“I’m not fussy.”
“Of course you aren’t. The 7-Eleven is a left at the main street, and a selection of whole food markets are to the right, then south near the animal center.”
“Okay.” I went to my room and changed into my favorite running clothes and shoes. I figured I may as well explore the area by foot. Not that I had a choice. The only transportation I had here was walking or bus. Strapping my phone to my arm and selecting some tunes, I yelled out a goodbye to an unpacking roommate and headed for the store.
My phone rang before I got there. Taylor’s name and picture lit up my screen. Smiling, I answered. “Hi!”
“Hello, city girl. How’s the big smoke?”
I looked around my part of Boston. “Grey.”
Taylor laughed. “So was Minneapolis.”
“True.” Smiling, I remembered spending the past four years at college with Taylor. We had rented an apartment off-campus for our time there. I barely saw her considering my workload and her need to party all the time. Gaining an MBA at the end of her study so she could run her father’s store, she had also gained several notches on her bedpost in the process. Something I grimaced into the phone at. Those men were never right for her.
“You settled in then?” she asked.
“Mostly. Just on the way to the store. I met my roommate though…ugh.”
“That good, huh?”
“She’s like Sheldon. Came at me with a roommate agreement and everything.”
Taylor laughed into the phone.
“She thinks I’m a hippy, or some country-hick wanting to know more about cows or something.”
Taylor’s laugh kept filling my ears. I loved her laugh. It was so carefree and light. I sighed and immediately thought of Mrs. Henderson and her aneurysm advice.
“Damn. Dad’s calling me. Now that summer holidays are over, he’s got it in his head that because I have an MBA, it’s time to apply it. Ugh. Lame-o Daddy-o.”
I smiled. “We’re twenty-three, I don’t think we’re allowed to say things like lame-o daddy-o anymore.”
“Says who?”
“Me. It sounds stupid.”
She blew a raspberry down the phone. A male voice in the background yelled out for her and threaten
ed consequences if she didn’t hurry. “Ugh. If lame-o daddy-o sounds stupid, then I suggest you go and tell my dad that I’m too old to be grounded.” She huffed. “I have to go. We’re interviewing for a new store manager today.”
“Enjoy.”
She made a noise of dissent. “Love you.”
“Me too.” I sighed again when the call ended. I’m in love with you rattled around my head. Putting my phone away, I slumped the rest of the way to the store and stocked up on artery-clogging noodles, chips, and pastries. My heart already ached, so I figured I may as well tip it over the edge.
Chapter Two
Harvard Medical School was an easy stroll from our apartment. And by easy, it was less than a mile away. It was the reason I chose the cheap but worn-out apartment in the first place. I assumed Olivia leased it from whoever owned it and was the one to put out the advertisement for a roommate. Shaking my head, I couldn’t fathom why she even wanted a roommate to begin with. She was asinine.
She also left incredibly early.
Our first class was at nine in a building I had yet to locate. Strolling down Longwood Avenue admiring the buildings around me, I managed to find the right one. Smiling, I made my way inside and followed my fellow straggling wannabe doctors into the auditorium.
“Ah, my last ducks,” the professor said from the podium. “Come now, we’ve much to discuss and only two weeks to discuss it in. Hurry. Hurry.”
I gave the man an odd look and quickly found a seat. I grinned as I spotted Olivia staring at me from the seated students with an incredulous expression. I added a little finger wave to my grin making her scowl and force her attention back to the professor at the front.
“I’m Dr. Allen, and I’m going to give a number of seminars with you fine young men and women this year. First off, I’d like in introduce our course facilitator who will give you a run down on the path to medical greatness.”
A sour-looking woman emerged from the shadows. “Students,” she said by way of address. “Congratulations on being the first intake to Pathways, a bold new approach to making you all the best doctors you can be. From now until Christmas, you will begin the pre-clerkship required to move into clinical experience and advanced clinical experience in year two and three. You will cover the foundations of biochemistry, genetics, biology, anatomy, histology, pathology, and so on. Next year, you’ll have two more intensive blocks to survive. It’s rigorous, and I expect you all to succeed. Fail, and your life in medicine just took a fatal hit.” She clapped her hands together and made everyone jump. Yikes. “Year two of Harvard Medical, just got real people. No longer will students be coddled through classrooms and pandered to like children. Instead, you’ll be thrown into what strengthens the backbone of any decent MD and transition straight into clinical experience. Here you learn how to become doctors, and those of you who manage to make it through the first year will suffer and sweat. Your ranks will be culled as those that can’t make the grade fall away. Trust me, there will be many. Maybe half of you will find yourselves in year three to take Step One exams…if you’re lucky.” She followed this delightful reality check with a dressing down about how lovely it was for us to dedicate our lives to help others but dare we lose focus for a moment, then death and destruction will haunt our lives. It was quite the motivational speech. I considered taking up a degree in the arts as she waved her goodbyes and left us stunned and shaken.