8. Medical School
Chapter 8
Medical School
First Year
O ver the next few months, Michael and I settled into a steady pattern. We mostly studied in the same room, occasionally stopping to get food or have sex. The relationship—though not all-consuming and fiery like in the novels I favored—worked for us. We lived the lives we had before, the intense study schedule we had grown accustomed to, now in the same room. We were exclusive—at least, I believed we were—without really discussing it, because who had time to go out and look for more people to date?
As the first year of school neared its end, I was eagerly looking forward to Javi’s visit. I hadn’t seen him in person in almost six months. Thirty minutes after he texted me that he had landed at JFK, I went outside to wait on the curb for his cab to pull up. When it did, the door was open before the cab had come to a full stop. He threw himself at me, picking me up and swinging me around in a half circle. I hugged him for what felt like a full minute, watching over his shoulder as the beleaguered-looking cab driver left Javi’s suitcase and backpack on the curb beside us.
Javi extricated himself from my arms to hand the driver a single bill, and from the driver’s improved mood, I would have bet it was a $100 note. I held Javi at arms’ length when he returned to my side, taking him in. He had changed a lot in six months.
He had lost the softness from his cheeks that he had held onto for most of college, his jaw sharper at the angles and stubbled with a five o’clock shadow. His caramel skin was an even richer shade, presumably from all that sun in California. His hair was carefully coiffed with hair gel , something I was sure college Javi didn’t know existed. He wore a suit— and not just a suit, a tailored blue suit that fit him like a glove. I had once theorized to myself that if Javi ever found himself the proper wardrobe, it would quickly take him from mildly attractive to devastating. And I had been absolutely correct. It was almost unfair how the person with the most brilliant mind and best personality of any human I had ever met was somehow also capable of looking this good.
My hands moved almost of their own accord, sliding up from his elbows to his deltoids, and every muscle between felt far more defined than I remembered.
“Wow, Javi,” I said, my eyes wide. “You look... different.”
The dimple in his left cheek appeared with his wide, genuine smile. My heart gave a small, painful flutter at the sight. That small detail was a reminder that, even though he otherwise looked very different than I remembered, he was the same boy I loved.
“Good different?” he asked.
I nodded emphatically but took my hands from his shoulders when I realized I was still squeezing them .
“Yes, good different,” I told him. “You look great.”
He shrugged. “A lot of hotel gyms during my downtime.”
I had never once in our four years of college together seen Javi step foot in the multi-tiered gym at Columbia. I couldn’t even convince him to go with me when I went. For Javi in college, there had always been things to do, places to see, and spending it in the dingy college gym had not appealed to him. At least, not to the Javi I had known.
“You look great too, Doc. But that’s nothing new,” he said, and he took my hand and twirled me so that my lacy white summer dress fanned out around me. I laughed.
I led Javi up to my apartment, taking his suitcase from him when we got to my studio.
“Where do you want your bag?” I asked him.
“You can leave it by the door,” he replied, sitting on my couch. “I’ll grab it later when I head to the hotel.”
I wheeled around to look at him, stunned. “You’re not staying here?”
He laughed at my reaction. “As much as I love your couch, you don’t think Michael will mind some guy sleeping a few feet away from you?”
“Oh. Michael.” I had not considered it as an issue. “I wouldn’t call you some guy , though.”
Javi said under his breath, “I fear Michael might not see it that way.”
I shot him a glare.
“Don’t worry about it,” he added. “I have more hotel rewards than I know what to do with.”
“How is the Artemis world tour going?” I asked. I settled in beside him on the couch, pulling my legs up beneath me.
“Pretty great, actually,” he said, and he pulled a silver case the size of my fist out of his black leather backpack. He opened it, taking the sleek black electronic out of the cushioning foam. It was a c-shaped device that clearly was meant to fit the back of someone’s ear. The last time I had seen the Artemis, it had looked like a tangled mess of wires and 3D printed plastic. Javi took a few dime-sized pieces out of the case that looked like stickers.
“These are the electrodes. They work remotely, sending signals to the main device, which has several electrodes in it too. You only need one electrode on the opposite side as the device and one at the base of the skull for it to calibrate correctly. If it detects imminent seizure activity, it alerts the wearer to get to a safe location. If the alarm goes unacknowledged or the seizure activity lasts longer than a minute, it dials 911. It’s ready for distribution as soon as the final FDA testing is finished.”
I tenderly held the device. I couldn’t believe how much he had accomplished in the last year. “This is incredible, Javi.”
He beamed at me with pride. “I’ve been approached by no less than a dozen pharmaceutical and biotech companies trying to buy it off me. I’d never sell, though. I know that they’ll ruin it. They’re going to make it so no one can afford the device, unless they fit in the small intersection of people who have both epilepsy and endless disposable income. I don’t want price to get in the way of people’s safety. People’s lives.”
I shook my head, amazed.
He added with a grin, “ And you can get it in multiple colors—black, silver, red, purple, blue, pink, green. Skin colors, if you want something more discreet, in 30 different shades, not just white.”
I cackled. “You really have thought of everything.”
“I try,” he said with a shrug, and he tucked the Artemis away, back into his bag. “What time are we meeting Blake and Michael for dinner?”
I looked at my watch. “Now is a perfect time to head out.”
We headed toward the subway station and rode the train south for a few stops. When we arrived at the bistro, one of my favorites on the upper west side, Blake and Michael were already waiting with a table. Blake jumped up enthusiastically when Javi arrived and gave him a huge hug.
“Javi, it’s so good to see you!” Blake squealed, and I was again reminded how much I loved that she loved him.
“You look stunning as ever, Blake,” he said, and I grinned when he made Blake bat her eyelashes at him. He was, of course, correct—Blake had been wearing her hair in long braids recently, and she wore a bold summer dress that made her dark skin glow.
Javi then turned to Michael, who had stood from the table to meet us. Before acknowledging Javi, Michael turned to me. He grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled me to him, dragging my lips to his in a kiss that lasted several seconds longer than I would have considered polite.
“Hey, D.R.,” he said to me, before turning back to Javi once more. “You must be Javier. D.R. has told me so much about you.”
Javi raised an eyebrow at me, and I read his mind as clearly as if he had screamed at me— since when do you go by D.R.? The look made me wriggle internally with embarrassment.
“And you must be Michael,” Javi replied, and the two of them shook hands. When they let go, I noticed with some chagrin that both of their hands flexed uncomfortably, as if they had squeezed the other’s hand as hard as they could. I rolled my eyes. I wanted to smack them both in the head. I had never known either man to be prone to displays of machismo. This felt like a poor omen of how the week was going to go.
Throughout the meal, I noticed the subtle ways Michael tried to one-up or undermine Javi, making it seem like his accomplishments and relationship with me were somehow better than Javi’s. Neither was true. Michael was smart, and I was certain he was going to be a good orthopedic surgeon someday, but his mind didn’t astound me the way Javi’s did. And Michael didn’t know me nearly as well as Javi did. While I would call Michael successful, considering he was at Columbia medical school, he was also just as riddled with debt as I was.
No one looking at Javi now could deny that he was successful. Javi didn’t flaunt it in obvious ways. But I knew, my mom being the shopper that she was, that Javi’s suit and watch were understated but incredibly expensive. More than that, he had the quiet self-assurance of someone who didn’t need to prove himself and his worth to other men that questioned it, no matter how loudly. And Michael was certainly questioning it, in a way that made my stomach churn with discomfort and the need to defend Javi.
But Javi didn’t need my help. His eyes frequently met mine across the table, and I could tell in the quiet mirth in his expression that he was terribly amused by Michael’s attempts to get under his skin. Blake, usually one of the more talkative in a group, watched the two of them talk for most of the meal, her brows furrowing, her head shaking slightly at the silent battle ensuing. She looked embarrassed for Michael. I didn’t know if I was more embarrassed or angry.
When dinner concluded, Michael kissed me again in a way that made it clear he was flaunting it in front of Javi. The thought of needing to flaunt it was ridiculous, considering that Javi and I were friends, and he cared as much about who I kissed as Blake did. But Michael didn’t seem to realize that. Michael only saw another male who was close to me, and apparently that was all that he needed to start pounding his chest like a gorilla.
“I’m meeting some of the guys at the gym,” he told me, and I could have sworn he made the tone of his voice deeper as he said it. “I’ll see you later?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, but didn’t have it in me to call him out on his behavior.
“Yeah, see you later,” was all I said.
When Michael had walked away from the three of us, Blake finally said, “Well, wasn’t that special.”
Javi exploded with laughter.
“I’m shocked he didn’t whip his dick out and start comparing sizes right at the dinner table,” Blake deadpanned, making Javi fall into another fit of giggles. I covered my face with both hands, too embarrassed to acknowledge them as they laughed endlessly at the situation.
“I promise, Javi, Michael usually doesn’t act like that,” I muttered through my fingers.
Javi shrugged. “I get it. New relationship. Male best friend. I’m sure I’d feel the same way, if I were in his shoes.”
I uncovered my face, eyeing Javi skeptically. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“Yes,” he said firmly, his eyes locking with mine resolutely. “I would.”
His tone was so definitive that it washed all sarcastic retorts from my brain. I stared at him, curiously. What was he saying? Did he… did he want to be in Michael’s shoes ?
I was searching his face for a long moment when Blake cleared her throat, startling us both.
“I’m going to head back home,” she said, her tone amused. “I’ll see you guys later?”
She hugged us both and parted ways with us.
I pointedly moved past whatever had just happened between us, trying to settle back into our old routine.
Javi and I took advantage of the pleasant evening in New York and meandered through the city streets, enjoying the familiar cacophony of sounds that made up the melody of New York—honking cars, chatters of dozens of overlapping conversations, the distant cries of a street performer’s violin. It felt good to be next to him again, a reminder of simpler times before medical school and the Artemis had pulled us into two separate orbits.
We wandered into our favorite little bookstore tucked away in the corner of a quiet street, the familiar scent of old pages and coffee as comforting as a warm hug. We browsed the shelves, occasionally pulling out a title to chuckle over or reminisce about. As I perused the new romance releases, Javi leaned against the bookshelf beside me.
“You’ve been really quiet about school,” he commented, his voice tinged with concern. “How is everything going? You’re handling the stress?”
I hesitated, biting my lip.
“It’s been tough,” I admitted, the weight of the last year settling on my shoulders. I was tempted to lie and tell him everything was great and that I was doing better than my wildest dreams. But lying to Javi felt like a completely foreign concept.
“If I’m being honest,” I continued, “sometimes it feels like I’m barely keeping my head above water. ”
Javi’s expression softened. “Di, why didn’t you tell me things were this bad?”
I shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t want to worry you. You have enough on your plate.”
He shook his head at my response. “I am never too busy for you, Diana. You know that, right? You can tell me anything.”
I looked away from him, considering. “It’s been relentless. Sometimes I’m so overwhelmed, I think about walking away from it all.”
“Hey,” he said, turning my face by the chin so I had no choice but to look into his eyes. The emotion burning there—the concern for me, the belief in me—made something icy cold and painful inside me melt into a warm puddle.
“You’re one of the strongest, smartest people I know. You can do this,” he encouraged.
I cleared my throat, which suddenly felt thick. I turned from him, freeing my chin from his grasp.
“Thanks, Javi,” I said lamely. My heart thundered inside my chest.
As we drifted from the bookstore back out onto the streets, our conversation shifted to lighter topics. He walked me back to my apartment before heading to his hotel.
We spent every waking second of the long weekend together—finding good food to try, visiting our favorite museums, seeing a show on Broadway. It was just like the good old days.
But the weight of my academic struggles lingered in the back of my mind. While Javi always knew how to make me laugh and forget my stresses, the feelings I had in his presence were also confusing. Having him here, having him look into my eyes and identify my struggles with one glance, reminded me that no one saw me like he did. Blake was a wonderful friend. Michael was a good boyfriend. But no one could replace what Javi and I had in college. My chest hurt at the thought of what we had given up, even though I knew it was for the best for both our careers.
On our last morning together, a few hours before Javi would have to take a cab to the airport, we strolled through Riverside Park together, arm in arm like we used to. We had mostly walked in silence, but I could tell from his pensive expression that Javi had something weighing on his mind. Finally, the thought seemed like it could steep no longer.
“Do you really think Michael is the right guy for you?” Javi asked suddenly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded, immediately defensive. I pulled my arm out from his and looked at him straight on.
“Do you really see a future with him? Can you see yourself marrying this guy?” he asked.
I barked an incredulous laugh.
“Every guy I date does not have to be the one I marry, Javi,” I shot back.
“Why would you date someone who you couldn’t see yourself marrying? What’s the point if there’s no future with him?” His brows furrowed as he inspected me.
It wasn’t often that Javi’s southern upbringing was obvious. But his more traditional view on relationships was one area that had always seemed a little old-fashioned to me. He didn’t date casually—he was an all or nothing kind of guy. It was one of the few subjects in which I was arguably the freer spirit of the two of us.
“I can see a future with Michael,” I emphasized, though a part of my brain argued that I had never even contemplated what that future might look like. But what did that say about me? Didn’t most women picture a future with their boyfriend? Was there something wrong with me, that I hadn’t? But when I really thought about it, no one had ever inspired me to have visions of white gowns or babies before.
I shook my head, trying to clear these questions from my mind, but continued, “But even if I didn’t, Javi, sometimes it’s nice to feel wanted . And by someone who understands what I'm going through. I’m not thinking about marrying him right now, when all I can think about is surviving these four years.”
“Are you saying I don’t understand what you’re going through?” he asked.
I blinked in surprise, unsure what he was implying. “That is... beside the point. But you don’t understand, Javi. I am so proud of you and all your success, but you don’t know what it’s like, scraping by and struggling through your entire twenties to achieve your dreams. Those years that you’re supposed to be having fun and traveling and meeting the person you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with, wasted in textbooks and doing scutwork in hospitals. All in the hopes that someday you might make enough money to pay off your $300,000 in student loans. I know you try, but you can never know what it’s like. You were rocket-launched to instantaneous success the second you graduated!”
He was quiet for a long moment, his mouth set in a grim line. “I know it may seem like that, Diana. But my job isn’t easy, either. I know it seems like I’m just jet-setting and going to fancy dinners, but you know me, Diana.”
He gestured to himself, to the gray suit he wore. “This isn’t me . I’m not a fucking salesman. I’m an inventor. Yet, here I am, traveling all over the world, never staying in the same place, begging for people to give me their money so I can get my device off the ground. I’ve been so busy trying to suck up to the right people that I don’t think I’ve used my engineering degree once since I graduated. While I may not know exactly what you’re going through, Di, it doesn’t mean my life is without struggles.
My expression softened. “I know it’s not, Javi. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”
He drew me in for a hug. “I just want you to be happy, Diana. Does Michael make you happy?”
My reply choked off in my throat. I wanted to defend my relationship, vehemently, but the words felt so hollow I couldn’t even find it in me to speak them. I was afraid that if I tried, I would start crying, so I simply shrugged.
Javi sighed. “I think you deserve someone who understands you, who challenges you and supports you. Someone who sees how brilliant you are and cheers for you, not someone who sees you as the competition or who is just along for the ride.”
I drew back from his arms, raising an eyebrow at his choice of wording.
He winced.
“I don’t mean it like that ,” he corrected. “I’m saying that I think he takes you for granted.”
I was thankful for his concern, but unsure what to do with his advice. Was I only with Michael because I was afraid of being alone, or because there was something real there? Asking myself the question seemed like answer enough in itself.
We walked until we had to go back to my apartment to get his things before heading to the airport.
He hugged me goodbye, whispering into my ear, “Please think about what I said, Di. I want you to be happy. I love you.”
“Love you too,” I said. I closed the cab door behind him and watched his cab drive away, not knowing when I would see him again.
That night, as I lay in bed, the city’s noises a soft murmur beyond my window, I allowed myself to really contemplate on what he had said. I wanted to be mad at Javi for questioning my relationship, but I couldn’t find myself to be angry at him for voicing aloud the doubts that had been in my own mind as well.
But Michael did understand what I was going through. He was funny, smart, and pretty good in bed. He was worth giving a chance, I resolved. So, I would give it more time. Even if it didn’t feel like a great romance from my novels, I had to be more realistic than that. Those were, after all, fairytales.