13. Calista
THIRTEEN
CALISTA
L incoln hadn’t brought Sadie to our study session.
I hadn’t seen her at all since I had brought her home last week.
And if I were being honest, I missed having her present.
Not only did she help pass the time while Lincoln was completing learning tasks, but her presence kept his mood in check.
Without her, Lincoln was back to his usual, rude self.
“Are you even listening?” I asked, positioning my head so I could make eye contact with him.
“Yeah.” His thick arms were perpetually crossed over his chest. It caused his biceps to bulge, straining against the fabric of his black T-shirt.
The gold chain he was wearing peeked out from under the neckline, gleaming under the study room lights.
For a brief moment, I allowed my mind to wander.
Was his entire closet made up of the same shirt?
“Then what are the actions caused by the flexor carpi radialis?”
Lincoln glanced down at the notes I had made before coming here. I slapped both hands onto the page. He rolled his eyes, fixing me with a bored expression. “It helps you bend your waist.”
“Unless your arm is connected to your ass, that is incorrect.”
Lincoln removed one arm from across his chest and pinched the bridge of his nose before leaning back in his chair. The small gash that he was sporting the week before finally seemed to be healing. “Did I say waist? I meant wrist.”
“Sure,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “Have you listened to a word I said today? I told you when we sat down that we were going to focus on the muscles of the arm today.”
The unphased expression he gave me caused my heart to hammer within my chest. I hadn’t realized it until that very moment, but my biggest fear was coming to fruition. Lincoln was just showing up to keep me quiet. He had no intention of actually doing well on this course.
As long as he showed face, I couldn’t say anything to Hamilton.
I wouldn’t be able to say anything to his coach either.
What a dickhead.
One step forward, two steps back. Just when I thought I was making some leeway, Lincoln decided to put on the brakes and ruin everything.
“You agreed to this,” I reminded him.
Lincoln sent me a hard look. His dark eyes smoldered like embers.
“You have to do well in this course. That was part of the dea?—”
“I agreed to show up,” he admitted. “I didn’t agree to doing more than the bare minimum, and I didn’t guarantee that I would pass with flying colors.”
I pulled my lips into my mouth, biting on the bottom one. Passing might have been enough to keep his scholarship, but it wouldn’t be enough for me to get my recommendation from Hamilton. Heat rose up my neck. Lincoln Pierce was the most selfish asshole I ever had the displeasure of meeting.
“But you should.” I leaned into the table, the edge cutting into the front of my ribcage.
Gesturing to the study material on the table, I continued, “I’m literally trying everything with you.
I spend hours of my week compiling notes, flashcards, and creating quizzes.
You have to work with me here. You have a midterm in a week.
What’s the point in tutoring if you’re not even going to try? ”
His eyes grew half a shade darker. “Who said I wasn’t?”
Now it was my turn to lean back and cross my arms. “It doesn’t look like you are.”
Lincoln twisted in his seat. The hard angles of his body threatened to erupt from his shirt. “Did you ever think that maybe I just can’t be you?”
“No one is asking you to be me. All I’m asking is for you to come in with the will to learn. If you have forgotten, this situation is meant to benefit me as well. You need to do well in the course if I’m going to get what I need from Hamilton.”
He took in a deep breath, trying to level the anger that was bubbling to the surface. “I am willing to learn. I’m willing to learn enough to get me the minimum grade to keep me in my program. If you’re expecting more than that, then you should give up now.”
I clenched my jaw shut. “That doesn’t work for me.”
“Not my problem.”
“I’ll remember that the next time you ask me to watch Sadie.
” My tone was shaky, the frustration threatening to spill over.
I was dealing with never-ending coursework, exhausting practicum shifts, sleepless nights, and cramps.
Thanks, Mother Nature. The last thing I wanted was to deal with this man-child.
There was a heavy pause in the room. While his expression was calm, the fire in Lincoln’s eyes erupted at the mention of his little sister. His hands clenched, knuckles going white before he released.
“What else do you do?”
“What?” I asked, the question catching me off guard.
Lincoln’s stony expression didn’t waiver. “Besides being a student, what else do you do?”
My brow furrowed together. “I have practicum?—”
“So, more school.”
I pursed my lips into a thin line as Lincoln inched closer, forearm against the table. “Of course you’re going to be good at something if that’s all you do.”
Silence rang through the study room. Could I even argue with him? I was aware just how privileged I was not to have to worry about anything other than grades. Sure, I didn’t know all the facets of what went on in Lincoln’s life, but he couldn’t pretend he knew mine either.
“I think we’re done for today,” Lincoln announced, dragging his empty bag off the carpeted floor.
I tapped my phone, checking the time. “We still have thirty minutes.”
Lincoln didn’t hesitate or stall in the slightest. “No, we don’t. I’ll see you on Wednesday.”
His long legs carried him towards the door before I could attempt to stop him.
“Lincoln,” I called. “Lincoln!”
It was as if he couldn’t hear me. I didn’t even bother getting up from my seat. Something told me it was better to let him leave. And he did. The study room door reverberated shut behind him.
I brushed both hands through my hair, dragging in a deep breath through my nose.
Lincoln Pierce was going to be the death of me.
A deafening silence settled over the room. What in the world had gotten into him? I dug my elbows into the table as I rubbed at my temples. A deep breath tumbled out of my mouth. I was in way over my head.
As I considered my next steps, my cell phone began to buzz.
“Hello?” I responded without checking the caller ID.
“Cali girl,” my mom’s sweet voice greeted me. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”
A muffled sound quality told me she was most likely in her car. She was the type of person who had her window cracked open no matter the weather.
“Fine,” I bluffed, pulling myself together. “How are you?”
“Wonderful! I’m just driving home from work. I was telling Stella—you remember her, right? I was telling her that you’ll be graduating this June. She couldn’t believe it. My little girl is growing up and becoming a nurse of all things. A registered practitioner!”
“That’s the plan.” I drew circles into the table with the back of my pen.
“Are you still fretting about the master’s program?”
“A little.”
“Oh, hun,” she started. “They’d be lucky to have you. And if Fenton doesn’t offer you a spot, there are so many others that will.”
Yeah, but you wanted to go to Fenton .
“I guess so,” I mumbled, allowing my pen to fall from my fingers. It clattered against the table.
“Your father and I are so proud of you, Cali. You’re doing everything that I couldn’t. Don’t think that your hard work isn’t being noticed. You’re going to be a wonderful RN, no matter the path you take to get there.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I whispered.
“I love you, sweetheart. How’s practicum going?”
I leaped into an explanation of my first day in the ICU, excluding the part where it stressed me out whenever I even thought about having to go.
I told her about my elderly patient in a coma, and the bus route I’d been taking to get to St. Francis Memorial.
In typical mom fashion, she asked me a million and one more questions, forcing me to elaborate on small details like what I was bringing for lunch, or if I was using my orthopedics.
We said our goodbyes somewhere along my walk back to the dorms. The days were getting shorter, and the sun had already begun to set.
This was usually my favorite time of the day.
When the clouds in the sky turned into cotton candy, but as I stood outside of my dorm building, all I could think about was how Lincoln Pierce was going to single-handedly ruin everything I had worked so hard for.
“Did he show up today?” Harper questioned when we sat down for dinner that Friday. She took a bite of her meat-lovers pizza. The cheese glistened under the pub lights, and I began to regret my choice of a soggy Greek salad.
I shook my head, poking at my half-eaten meal with a fork. “Nope. ”
It had been a few days since I had last seen Lincoln.
He had missed our last two study sessions and left all my text messages on read.
The distance was killing me. The longer we went without talking, the further my chances of getting Hamilton’s referral were.
I tried to use the opportunity to reflect on the situation and figure out what the fuck happened.
However, the more times I mulled over our conversation in my mind, the more confused I became.
I had no idea why Lincoln’s behavior had changed. He had been more closed off and cold than the first time I had met him. Maybe something was going on at home? Maybe the stress of everything was getting to him?
I gritted my teeth. He wasn’t the only one who was stressed, dammit.
But every time my anger flared up, my guilty conscience soon put it out. Maybe I was applying too much pressure.
Harper chewed for a moment. “Is this an inappropriate time to say, I told you so ?”
I gave her an unimpressed look. “You wouldn’t be able to pick a more inappropriate time.”
“Not even a funeral?”
“If this keeps up, you’ll be attending my funeral.”
This whole situation had turned me into one big ball of nerves.
The last time I was this stressed was when I was preparing to get into university—something I didn’t have complete control over.
I remember being cooped up in my room for days, unable to eat.
My mom had come knocking on my door with dinner, hoping to coax me with her infamous cinnamon rolls.
That’s when she perched herself on the edge of my bed and told me something I still thought about.
“All you can do is put in your best effort. Focus on what you can control. Not on the things you can’ t.”
She was right. All I could do was put in my best effort and hope that whoever was reviewing my application liked me enough to give me a shot.
The situation with Lincoln was similar.
I could prepare and create whatever resources I wanted but couldn’t control Lincoln. He had to want it. He had to be willing to work with me. And he had made it clear that he wasn’t.
“You’ve been hanging out with Ella for too long,” Harper said with an impish smile, pulling me from my inner turmoil. “Her dramatics are starting to rub off on you.”
I placed my fork down. “I don’t know what to do, Harp.”
“I wish I could make the decision for you, but we both know you’re as stubborn as a mule. If you want my honest opinion, I’m afraid tutoring him is causing you more harm than good. Ditch the buffoon.”
“I can’t,” I whined.
“But you can,” she insisted, leaning towards me to emphasize her point. “Lincoln Pierce is a colossal waste of your time. You’re better off without him and finding some other way to win Hamilton over.”
“I don’t know if I could just drop him. Hamilton basically handed me the key to his reference letter on a silver platter. I knew this was going to be difficult based on what you and Ella said that night. I just didn’t realize how difficult it would be.”
Harper’s hand enveloped mine on top of the table, and I sent her a grateful smile. She did not take part in physical touch often, but she must have realized I needed the comfort. She slid her hand away a moment later.
“Does he appear as though he’s trying to understand what you’ve been teaching him? ”
“Sometimes. Other times, I catch him staring off into space… or fidgeting. He says he’s trying, but we haven’t made any progress.
Midterms are coming up soon, and I doubt he’d be able to pass that with the minuscule amount of information we’ve been able to cover.
I keep feeling like I have to backtrack with him. ”
Harper pondered for a moment. It was as if she were debating whether to help me or not. Then she picked up a fallen pepperoni and popped it in her mouth. “Now, normally I wouldn’t be encouraging this, but perhaps you’re going about this the wrong way.”
“How so?”
“From my understanding, not everyone learns the same way.” She wiped her oily fingers on a napkin. “Have you considered the way you’re relaying the course material to him?”
“Of course.” I gaped at her. “I’ve been trying to teach him in a bunch of different ways.”
“Such as?”
Splaying my fingers, I recounted the list. “I’ve tried flash cards, quizzes, reading him the textbook… making him read me the textbook…”
“Those all sound like your typical study strategies.”
I blinked at her. “That’s because they are.”
Harper nodded. “You know… I’d probably scream if you forced me to try to memorize terms with flash cards.”
“They’re my favorite way to study.” Along with filling notebooks upon notebooks with colorful and detailed notes or annotating a textbook. Who didn’t appreciate pages adorned with stick tabs and highlighted sections?
“That’s exactly my point,” Harper said, pointing a lazy finger at me.
“They are your favorite ways to study. Instead of utilizing what typically works for you, branch out and consider what would work for him. You may not be able to make anatomy more interesting, but you can change how you teach it.”
“Harper,” I said slowly. “Have I ever told you that you’re a genius?”
She cracked a smile. “Once or twice.”
Rummaging through my bag, I slapped a few bills down on the table. “I’ve gotta run. I might have just figured out a way to make a scholar out of Lincoln Pierce.”