3. Laura
3
LAURA
O n the Monday after the family dinner, I met with Kristin in the food court. I used the time between classes to study and check my schedule while she finished a paper, and I enjoyed the free time to make sure this busy week would go off without a hitch like I wanted it to.
Kristin and I met during freshman year when we were in math, biology, and English classes together. Like me, she was a go-getter, enrolling in college with a year and a half of college credits already. The advanced placement courses we completed at our respective high schools had put us over others here, but she wasn’t in pre-med like I was. Still, we stayed as close as we could with our heavy courseloads.
I wasn’t sure what she was finishing a paper for—maybe a lit class—but I was grateful I didn’t have anything pending to turn in. After a week of exams, I was in the clear to organize.
The material laid out in front of me and showing on my laptop all pertained to the medical industry’s symposium that was coming up. I was already stressed about it, and no amount of reviewing the dates and material gave me more confidence.
I had a record to maintain. Everyone in my family had presented at this, and it was a given that I’d be expected to wow the judges as well.
Presenting wasn’t an issue. Despite my introverted nature and preference to watch and observe instead of being the center of attention, I knew I could perform and speak publicly.
My hesitation about the symposium had only to do with my secret wish that I could go into something else. My passion and interest weren’t in line with my family’s background. Coming from a family of medical geniuses—with the exception of my mom, whom my dad told to stay home when Mai and I were born to be a stay-at-home-parent so he could continue working—I knew I had to go to medical school. It was a given, something out of my control.
Ever since the end of my freshman year, though, when I took a summer class in biochemistry, I’d become more and more intrigued about the field of bioengineering instead. Over my sophomore year, I added a biochem class on top of my usual ones expected to be completed in the pre-med program. And this year, I added even more electives on top of it all.
Still, I knew better than to suggest to my parents that I could tweak my major this close to graduation.
Or at all.
As I previewed the research articles about a promising new drug for cancer treatments, I sighed and wished I could present about something like this. Something new. Something innovative. Something different…
“What’s all that sighing for over there?” Kristin asked without looking up from her laptop, her fingers typing rapidly without pause.
“Sorry.” I smiled, a little embarrassed that I was breathing like a drama queen over here. But that was how much I wondered about changing from pre-med to bioengineering.
“Well, what’s bugging you?” Now she glanced up, closing her laptop.
“Hey, no. I’ll be quiet.”
She shrugged. “I’m done. I just sent it in.”
I glanced at my phone as a text came in.
Please, no more. Ethan had been texting me the stupidest, lamest things all day, like how I was doing with a project that had been done months ago, and what I thought of his outfit for the day, whether it looked “professional” enough.
Instead, it was my dad.
Dad: Please come to my office during your break after your next class.
Huh. That was weird. He never wanted to associate with me on campus, ever aware of people claiming he was giving me special treatment as a family member.
“Laura?” Kristin wasn’t giving up. “What’s got you looking so moody?”
I shook my head. “It’s nothing.” My secret wish to change my major was a big something, but I wasn’t ready to tell her about it. I wasn’t at the point to admit that desire to anyone, fearful of the backlash I’d get from my parents. It would be an unforgivable ask according to them. My father wouldn’t hear of it.
“Come on. Tell me. What are friends for?” she asked.
I sighed, knowing she cared too much to let it go. Besides, she wouldn’t judge. She’d changed her major four times already and didn’t care who thought it was silly of her. I wondered if she realized how lucky she was to not have to measure up to her parents’ expectations.
“Um…” I couldn’t tell her my secret wish to switch to bioengineering, no matter how she would keep it confidential. I didn’t trust voicing it at all and putting it out there. Because it wouldn’t happen. “I had another family dinner last week,” I said instead.
“Yeah. I bet it sucked like usual. They’ve never gotten you down this much for so long before, though.”
I nodded. “I just hate the expectation that I have to follow after Mai’s success.” Adding a shrug, I hoped she’d accept that and let it go.
She didn’t.
Shaking her head, she narrowed her eyes. “No, that’s not it. You always hate that.”
I did.
“This is something else. Something’s bothering you besides that. I can tell. You’re acting… off.”
I sighed, still reluctant to tell her my secret about wanting to switch majors. She was correct, though, so used to me that she really could tell when I wasn’t being myself.
“Okay.” I set my pen down and gave her my full attention. “I’ve been annoyed with Ethan lately.”
She laughed lightly. “Again, nothing new.”
“I’ve been more annoyed than usual,” I said. It wasn’t a case of jealousy. I wasn’t cool toward my boyfriend because I saw how well Mai and Mark were getting along. “It’s bothering me more than usual that I’m wasting so much time with him.”
She raised her brows and tucked a curly strand of brown back.
“I’ve been debating breaking up with him because it’s just not going anywhere.” I felt so much lighter saying that out loud, even if it was just to her.
She smiled and laughed once. “Of course, it’s not going anywhere. It’s Ethan.”
I cringed. “Isn’t that pathetic?”
She lightened up, not teasing but matter of fact about it. “Laura,” she scolded. “ He’s pathetic. You knew that when your dad made you meet him.”
“No. That just means I’m pathetic. Pathetic to be this much of a pushover to agree to date a guy I’ve never even been interested in.”
She shrugged. “Hey, we both know the force of nature between you and your parents’ expectations is something that will never be scientifically understood.”
I sighed again.
“But it’s a waste of my energy to pretend I care about ‘being’ with him. Especially with it never going anywhere worthwhile.” I was one second away from telling her that I was motivated to break up with him now, well before the summer, so he couldn’t try to push for a more pathetic and boring long-distance thing.
“Yeah. It’s going nowhere because it’s Ethan.” She’d never hesitated to tell me what she thought of him. “But also because it’s just a college thing.” She shrugged. “It’s not supposed to last.”
But I don’t want it to last until he’s out of here. That was how fed up I was now .
“Besides,” she reasoned, “it’s better to be taken than single and open for prey.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Like that girl at my dorm. Belle.” She winced. “She was drugged and got so wasted at one of the frat house parties that she had to be hospitalized.” Her eyes opened wider with emphasis that this should shock me. “She said she wished she’d gone to the party with her gay BFF, who could act like a boyfriend, just to be safe.”
While I felt bad for that girl, she knew better. “No one goes to a frat party and expects to leave the same.”
She smirked. “Oh, like you can say that from experience, huh?”
I frowned. “No. You know I can’t.” I’d never gone to any parties on campus, both because my parents would dislike that and because it was so out of my comfort zone that I didn’t know how to just go and show up without having an invite or knowing any of the partying, cooler students.
“First of all, it’s not like I would ever have to worry about being single and being prey.” I pointed at myself. “I don’t go to those parties. I have no time to party at all.”
She made a whatever face. “I’m just saying…”
I refused to agree with her logic. Sure, a single woman would be prey. That was a fact of life. But it wasn’t a good enough reason for me to just stay with Ethan. “I’m too bored with Ethan to put any effort into him.”
She gave me a pensive look. “What would you do if you didn’t have to spend time on him?”
I smiled. “Research a little more about these cancer trials and daydream about saving the world?”
“You’re such a dork,” she teased playfully.
“Yes. I am such an academic and hopeless dork,” I replied. “So much so that your warning about being single and being prey falls flat.” Straightening my already neat piles of papers and books, I shot her a dubious look. “Because that means I would never be at one of the frat parties.”
Just thinking about the frat president who hosted the wild parties like the one Belle had been hospitalized from made me snort with another laugh. He was a notorious bad boy who loved to ruin virgins and good girls. No one I would ever want to spend time with.
“And I would never willingly associate with someone like Jason Reeves, either,” I quipped, amused at the improbable scenario I’d never have to worry about.