Chapter 26
When I wake in the morning, back in reality, it’s to the smell of coffee and bacon and the sight of a sweaty Reeve in gym shorts in the kitchen with a spatula in hand.
“Are you one of those morning exercise people?” I descend the steps dressed for my interview but not quite the same level of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
He pours me a cup of coffee. “Not usually, but I didn’t sleep that well last night.” He hands me the cup and an understanding passes between us, and I wonder if he had his own sexy sand-dune dream.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
Having not yet had a sip of coffee, I figure he’s asking about breakfast, but then I realize he’s referring to my interview.
Am I ready to stand up in front of arguably the most intimidating audience I’ve ever been in front of and convince them that I, more than any other candidate, belong in their fine institution?
No, I’m terrified.
But I paste on a reassuring smile, open my mouth, and say, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Reeve places a red pepper omelet in front of me that I am too nervous to eat.
I’m also too nervous to have anything more than polite, surface-level conversations with him as he walks me to the U of T campus a whole hour before I need to be there.
He waits while I get checked in. Although he seems to want to stick around to be there when I get out, he nods when I ask if we can meet at a coffee shop on the corner at eleven when I’m done.
“I think I need some time alone to get in the zone.”
And maybe some buffer afterward if I bomb and need to cry in a bathroom stall.
He kisses me on the forehead, saying all the right things before leaving me alone in an empty waiting room with nothing but my thoughts.
The first negative one creeps in as I watch him walk down the path and pass a group of students.
It brings the reminder that if I get into med school, I will find myself amidst a sea of new faces.
I have lived in West Lake my whole life.
Even my undergraduate degree was online, keeping me in the comfort zone of the friends I’d known since middle school.
That coming-of-age experience where you move away from home for the first time and grow into that better, more improved version of yourself as you shed all your high school insecurities—I skipped over that part.
I start to regret telling Reeve and Zoe about my dreams and even admitting to myself how much I wanted them, but then my phone begins to ring in my pocket.
I pull it out, more so to avoid the death glare of the stern-looking woman behind the desk, but then I see the name on the display.
Kitty St. Clair.
My stomach bottoms out completely. My heart begins to hammer so fast that I have to turn and sit on the windowsill for fear I’m about to pass out.
What has she done now?
I press the phone to my ear. “Kitty?”
“Jules!” says a voice. “I’m glad I caught you.”
“Who is this?”
There’s a notable pause on the other end.
“It’s me. Zoe. I would have thought my voice would have been burned into your brain by now. Oh shit! I didn’t call during your interview, did I?”
“No,” I tell her, my heart slowing down enough that I can stand again. “Why does it say Kitty St. Clair on my phone?”
“Oh…” There’s a pause on Zoe’s end. “Ohhhhhhhhh. Yeah, I’m calling you from her old room. I guess they never changed the call display. Shit, that would have been creepy. But that’s not why I’m calling you. Hold on.”
There’s the sound of static on Zoe’s end, and at one point, I think she may have even dropped the phone, but then a voice comes on.
“Hello, Jules? Norman Samuel Sr. here. Zoe told us all about your big day, and I wanted to tell you that I think you’d make the most wonderful doctor. We all do, honey.”
“Tell her about my granddaughter,” says a gruff female voice in the background.
“I shall do no such thing,” Mr. Samuel says.
There’s some indecipherable arguing. Then the female voice says, “Give me the phone.”
This is followed by more static. More scuffling. Someone definitely drops the phone before the female voice picks it up and clears her throat.
“Hello, Jules. How ya doing, sweetheart?”
“Mrs. Hail?” I ask, still very confused.
“Heard you’re in need of a land shark. I wanted to tell you my granddaughter is the best in the business. Out for blood. I’ll give you her number when you get back.”
“Um…thank you?”
A third round of static before I hear Zoe again.
“Sorry about that,” she says, lowering her voice.
“Just in case it wasn’t clear: I’m pretty sure Jean’s granddaughter is a real estate agent, so she might be able to help you out with the…
other big thing in your life. I will clarify that before you get back.
Anyway, I hope you know that everyone here is thinking about you and rooting for you today. ”
“Thank you, Zo,” I say, and I really, really mean it.
“How are you holding up?” Zoe asks, as if her best friend radar still works from two hundred kilometers away.
“I’m hanging by my last thread,” I tell her honestly.
“Yeah, but you’re a West Lake babe. We’re made of fishing line. A hell of a lot stronger than we look.”
The woman at the desk looks up and catches my eye. “They’re ready for you now, Julia.”
“I have to go,” I tell Zoe.
“I heard,” she says. “Hey, Jules…” There’s a hesitation to her voice, and I find myself holding my breath.
“Knock ’em dead.”