11. Jo
Chapter 11
Jo
Fourth Year of Medical School
9 Years Ago, September
“ B ut did you see the requirements? There are like six essays and three interviews. That’s insane!” Carmen flings herself onto Isaac’s couch with the utmost drama.
“Yeah, on top of everything we already have to do this month?” I mirror her hesitation. “I’m overwhelmed just thinking about it.”
Isaac joins us, three beers tucked between his right arm and chest, a pizza balanced in his left hand. Typical exam week meal.
“That’s a lot of money, though,” he says, setting the pizza down and handing Carmen and I each a beer. “The rest of our tuition?”
I tuck my feet underneath me and grab my laptop off of the coffee table, pulling up the scholarship requirements on the MMCI website. “It looks like it’s the rest of our tuition,” I pause to let my eyes scan the screen. “And a stipend for books and living expenses up to 10k.”
Carmen immediately grabs a piece of pizza to shove in her mouth. “But is it worth all that work?” she asks.
I look between her and Isaac, whose mouth has fallen open in utter horror.
“Your privilege is showing, Carm,” I add, grabbing a piece of pizza for myself. Isaac joins me on the floor, opting first for a long pull of his beer.
“That’s life changing,” he says after he swallows.
“Well, I, for one, will be sitting my ass down at the library tomorrow and cranking out some of those essays!” I attempt to break the tension in the room. Politics? Totally reasonable to discuss. Religion? He doesn’t even blink. But money? It’s a total shutdown. “So you turds can join me if you want.”
“I’m going to see Sam in the morning, but I’ll join afterwards,” Isaac leans back against the couch with a slice of pizza in hand. Though Isaac regularly visits his youngest brother, he rarely speaks of Sam.
A few beats of silence pass.
Carmen grabs the remote. “The USWNT plays today. We’re watching.”
“Huh?” Isaac asks.
Carmen gasps, a hand flying to her chest in dramatic outrage. “The US women’s national soccer team, idiot, please keep up.”
The library is silent, just one group of first-years sits at an oval table in the corner of the group study space. I stare at the cursor on my screen.
Who is the most influential person in your life, and why?
My brain scans through each of the people in my stratosphere.
Dad.
Mom.
Chloe.
Carmen.
Isaac?
I scoff at myself.
Let’s look at the next prompt.
I click through the document with my laptop trackpad.
What are your career goals and aspirations?
“ My goal is to not kill anyone?” Isaac reads the words I just typed into the blank prompt document from over my shoulder. I slam my laptop closed.
“Ahem, hello,” I say as he sits in the wooden chair across from me. His eyes are red and swollen.
“Looks like I missed some serious productivity this morning,” he teases, pulling his computer out of his bag and setting it in front of him.
“Mostly filling my quota of self-loathing,” I chuckle. “I at least filled out the application.” I let my head fall into my open palms and look at him through the spaces between my fingers. “How’s Sam?”
“As good as he can be for a kid with cancer, I guess.” He shrugs, clicking aimlessly with a wireless mouse. I let my hands fall from my face.
“Isaac.”
“He’s fine.”
“Isaac,” I press.
“It’s terrible, Jo. He looks terrible.” He sinks back into the chair, wiping his hands down his face. “He’s emaciated. The chemo is just withering him into nothing.” A glimmer of fresh tears wells at the bottom of his eyes.
“I wish I had the right words,” I whisper. “Dad’s oncologist told him that a positive attitude and a good support system is the best treatment you can get.”
“I just don’t know how I can be a doctor when I can’t even look at him like this.”
I lean forward, my elbows against the table. “It’s different when it’s someone you love, Isaac. Maybe we should go try to cheer him up.”
“Yeah, I...” His voice trails off. “You’re right.”
“I’m always right,” I smile, tilting my head to keep his gaze.
“Alright, don’t push it.” He grins. “Let’s get cracking on these essays, we have money to win!” Taps on his keyboard fill the silence. The group of students in the corner gather their belongings, and then we’re alone.
“This means we’re competing for the same scholarship, you know,” I say after ten minutes of diligent work.
He eyes me contemplatively before staring off into the distance behind me. The redness has dissipated, but the hollowness under his eyes remains. Even so, the evergreen hue of his irises make my legs feel like jelly. “Mhm.”
“So you’re not gonna get mad at me when I win?” I tease, tossing my pen across the table at him. He chuckles, catching it with a flat palm against his chest. His fingers envelop the plastic, making it look like the writing utensil for one of my childhood Barbie dolls. “May the best woman win!”
Isaac sets the pen down on the table and extends his right hand to me for a shake. “We have to both promise to give it our all.” I take his hand firmly in mine, trying to maintain composure even with the pressure of his palm sending a warm flood of endorphins to my brain. “And then whatever happens, happens.”
“So there’s a scholarship and you and Isaac are competing?” Chloe’s eyes drop from mine to the ground. “And you think this is a good idea?”
I shrug, sidling toward the dining table. Mom’s house is decorated for fall, even though it’s barely September and the school year has just begun. One more year of medical school, and the mounting pressure of the Residency Match is upon us.
I wonder where we’ll end up. It’s a long shot that Isaac and I would end up in the same place given that we’re both vying for neuroscience, but a girl can dream.
A minuscule one bedroom apartment in Boston with all of our important belongings. Isaac reading neuroscience literature while hunched over the counter in our tiny kitchenette. Collaboration on important medical research. We’d be unstoppable.
“I think I’m going to drop out of the running.”
“What?!” Chloe jumps up from her spot at the head of the table. “Why the hell would you do that?”
I sink into my chair, rolling a piece of paper towel between my fingers. Despite it being only about an hour drive, I don’t make it home to see Mom and Dad nearly enough. Chloe is never in the same place for more than five minutes, but with any free time I have, I’d rather be in my apartment, curled up with a blanket in front of the television. “Isaac needs the money way more than I do. He’s been doing the midnight shift at Golden Hour and tutoring like crazy.”
Dad makes his presence known with a clear of his throat. “Hi, honey.” He places a gentle kiss on the top of my head. His portable oxygen tank swings forward and hits the back of my chair with a thud. “What are we talking about?”
I glare at Chloe but I learn quickly where her loyalties reside. “Jo is gonna drop out of the scholarship competition because she’s in love with Isaac.”
I bury my head in my hands and let out a groan of frustration.
“Caroline, we’re gonna need cookie dough!” Dad yells into the hallway and the immediate pounding of footsteps on the stairs tells me that Mom heard him.
“Tell us everything,” Mom adds when her feet hit the landing. “I’ve always liked Isaac. He seems like a nice boy.”
I roll my eyes and shoot another set of eye daggers at Chloe. Oh, the can of worms has been opened.