Chapter 3 #2
"Sebastian's the smartest guy in our program," Wei adds, unhelpfully. "Well, except for Psychology. He's tanking that class."
I shoot him a death glare.
"Psychology?" Gavin asks, his eyes lighting up with what seems like amusement. "Not your favourite subject?"
"I find it lacks precision," I say diplomatically, not wanting to get into a debate with everyone watching.
"So what is your major?" I ask, a bit desperately, trying to change the subject.
What's your major… seriously, could you sound like more of an idiot?
"What do you think I study?" he counters, a playful challenge in his eyes.
"Sports Management, or maybe Exercise Science?"
His smile widens. "Not even close. But I'll let you keep guessing."
Something in his expression, a mischievousness, a secret enjoyment, makes me think he's playing with me. He clearly likes that I can't place him neatly in a box.
"Seb here thinks anything outside hard sciences is 'subjective nonsense,'" JP volunteers, making air quotes and ignoring my murderous expression.
"Is that so?" Gavin asks, looking at me like he finds this really funny.
"It lacks the empirical rigour of hard sciences," Shit, I sound like such a tool.
There's no going back now, so I push on and try to defend, lifting my chin. "Too much interpretation, not enough data."
"Interesting perspective," Gavin says, looking at me with an intensity that makes me uncomfortable. I feel like he's not hearing my words; he's seeing right through them to something else. "Though behavioural patterns can be pretty predictable if you know what to look for."
"Human beings aren't elements on a periodic table," I counter.
"No, they're infinitely more complex and fascinating," he says without missing a beat.
There's a moment of tension between us, not hostile, exactly, but… tense. I'm suddenly very aware of how close he's standing, how his eyes are watching me too closely for comfort.
"Anyway," he continues, breaking the moment, "you guys doing the scavenger hunt?"
"We're making an appearance," I say quickly.
"The prize is a $100 campus bookstore gift card," Gavin mentions casually. "Could buy a lot of highlighters with that."
It's such a specific reference to my colour-coding system that I can't think of anything to say.
"We'd love to join you," JP jumps in, earning another death glare from me. "In fact, why don't we combine forces? Seven heads are better than three for a scavenger hunt."
"Great idea," Gavin agrees before I can object.
And somehow, just like that, I find myself part of a combined team of pre-med students and athletes, wandering from department to department collecting ridiculous facts for a scavenger hunt I don't care about.
The worst part? I'm having fun. Gavin talks to everyone, asking questions about their studies and sharing random, weird facts. He has a way of making people feel comfortable and drawing them out. It's irritating how charming he is.
At one point, we're alone briefly at a literature table while the others have moved ahead.
"So," Gavin says casually, "if you hate Psychology so much, why take it?"
"It's required for med school," I answer. "A box to check."
He nods thoughtfully. "And medicine itself? Is that a calling or another box?"
The question catches me off guard. "What do you mean?"
"Some people really want to be doctors because they love medicine. Others do it for the status or money or because their family expects them to." He shrugs. "Just curious which camp you fall into."
"That's a rather personal question," I reply stiffly.
"Personal questions are kind of my thing," he says with a grin, not elaborating further.
Without thinking, I tell him the truth. "Medicine is... everything. The human body is this incredible, complex system, and understanding it, being able to heal it, that's not a box to check. It's the only thing I've ever wanted to do."
He looks at me with those gorgeous brown eyes, and I get the clear feeling he's studying me. "Yet you dismiss Psychology, which is essential to understanding the people inside those bodies."
"The brain is an organ like any other," I say. "It operates on chemistry and electrical impulses."
"And emotions? Behaviours? Relationships? Also, just chemistry?"
"Essentially, yes," I say, though even as the words leave my mouth, I know that's not the whole story.
Tell that to Nonno. All the chemistry in the world didn't matter when Papa wouldn't take him to see a doctor. "They just want your money, these doctors." Two months later, the cancer had spread everywhere.
Nope... Not going there. Not now.
"Interesting theory," he says. "So when you look at me, you just see a collection of organs and electrical impulses? Nothing more?"
The question feels like a trap, and I'm suddenly very aware of him, not just as a collection of biological parts but as a man.
Christ, when did he get so close? Eighteen inches. No… less.
There's nowhere to look except at him. Soap-clean skin and that stupid, perfect hair with its stupid natural highlights. Like he walked out of a shampoo commercial.
I swallow so hard my whole throat moves, my Adam's apple bobbing like a traitor. Fuck, was that audible?
"I should catch up with my friends," I say quickly, avoiding the question entirely.
"Sure," he says easily, but I can tell he caught me dodging the question. "But Doc? People are more than what you'd find under a microscope. Sometimes the stuff you can't measure matters most."
As I walk away, I can feel him watching me, and my neat, organized world feels suddenly, dangerously tilted.
As we're leaving the mixer, without winning the gift card, much to Wei's disappointment, JP nudges me.
"So, the hot jock," he says with zero subtlety. "What's the story there?"
"There is no story," I insist. "We met briefly in the library. That's it."
"Uh-huh," JP sounds far too amused at my expense. "That's why you were giving each other 'I want to climb you like a tree' eyes all night."
"I was not—" I sputter.
"You kind of were," Wei says quietly. When even Wei comments on social dynamics, you know it's obvious.
"He's not my type," I say firmly.
"Tall, muscular, smart, and looks at you like you're the most interesting person in the room?" JP raises an eyebrow. "Since when is that not everybody's type?"
"He's a jock. A frat boy. Probably straight," I list, more to convince myself than them.
"Keep telling yourself that," Wei says with a knowing grin. "Meanwhile, the rest of us saw the chemistry between you two. Honestly, it was kinda hot how he looked at you."
I roll my eyes, but as we head to Beans & Books for our coffee, I keep thinking about my talk with Gavin, how he pushed back when I wrote off psychology, how he seemed to see right through me.
The way my heart rate increased when he stood close. It doesn't mean anything… he's just… crap.
I tell myself it's just a weird fluke, a random reaction that doesn't mean anything, just like I tell myself I'm not dreading my tutoring session tomorrow at 3 PM.
Some things are better left alone, and some feelings are better off never starting. Whatever's going on between Gavin Robins and me definitely fits that bill.
No, there's nothing happening.