3. Jo
Chapter 3
Jo
First Year of Medical School
12 Years Ago, October
“ P artners will be assigned alphabetically and switching will not be tolerated.”
I left class on Friday with a full head, full heart, and sturdy confidence. Week one was a lovely introduction to medicine and how the work we do will save lives. Week two on the other hand…
I glance up from my phone screen and scan the classroom. Looks like I’ll be paired with Isaac. Our gazes meet and I immediately avert my eyes. I need water.
Why is my mouth so dry?
I look up again and he’s still looking at me. Why is he looking at me?
Dr. Zin, our physical examination professor, continues to speak into the microphone. “Today we will be assessing cranial nerve function. These physical exams are of the utmost importance and can give you crucial information about the functionality of the neurologic system.”
The door to the classroom flies open and Carmen comes rushing in. She’s holding two large iced coffees and has a crinkled paper bag hanging from her teeth.
Dr. Zin stops abruptly, eyeing her as she sidles up beside me on the examination table.
“Now that breakfast has arrived, we can begin.” He clears his throat and starts pairing students from the beginning of the alphabet. “Amherst and Anderson. Table one.”
“Here,” Carmen says, letting the bag fall from her teeth and onto her lap. “I sacrificed myself to get you caffeine.” I roll my eyes but grab the cup, dragging some of the condensation off the sides with my palm and wiping it on my leggings.
“Thank you for your invaluable sacrifice.”
“Arroyo and Barerro-Smith. Table three.” Carmen jumps up, repositions her book bag, and launches herself at the table where Ana Arroyo already sits. “Britlyn and Carello. Table four!”
I take a sip of my coffee before standing, trying to quench some of my thirst. Did I not drink enough water this morning?
“Damn, I didn’t realize it was that bad to get stuck with me,” Isaac says as we both approach our assigned table. It’s only then that I realize that a grimace has taken up residence on my features.
“Lyon and MacKenzie. Table seven. Mackey and McDonald. Table eight.”
“Ha.” I brush my fingers over my eyebrows, attempting to fix my face. “No, no, no.” I set my bag down next to the table, kneeling down to undo the zipper and pull out my tools. It gives my ears time to return to their normal color. Kyle Mackey and Kelsey McDonald take their place at the table next to us as Dr. Zin pairs off the remainder of the cohort.
When the excitement finally settles, he begins the presentation on the first cranial nerve. “Please get out your miniature containers of coffee beans and cinnamon sticks.” He demonstrates the proper technique for assessing smell. After we’re appropriately debriefed on our next steps, Isaac turns to face me.
“Do you want to go first? Or I can.” He holds out the small film canisters and I take a seat on the exam table. I glance at where Carmen stands, her finger placed firmly against Ana’s right nostril.
“Go ahead,” I add, distracted by intense laughter at table eight. They think they’re sneaking around, but in reality, our whole class knows what they’re up to off campus.
Hopefully only off campus…
Without warning, Isaac touches my face and I jolt backwards, nearly falling off the table. The shock of his warm skin grazing my nose sent a bolt of energy straight to my core. One millisecond of fingertip contact and it’s like someone has taken a flame-thrower to my cheeks. What the fuck was that?
It was certainly more reaction than Andrew has ever elicited from my body. Then again, let’s be real. He hasn’t touched me in months. He looks at me like I’m disgusting, and I’m starting to believe he’s right.
I suppose it makes sense that my body reacts this way to Isaac. I’m a girl who has needs.
Lock it down, Carello. Do not embarrass yourself.
It’s just a crush. A stupid, unrequited crush.
“Woah, hey, sorry.” He yanks his hand away from my face, his mouth agape. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, that’s my bad. I don’t know what’s up with me right now.” I take a sip of coffee as Dr. Zin starts talking again. I need to get my head together, but all I can seem to focus on is Isaac’s jawline as he turns to watch the second demonstration of this class period. It’s sharp and masculine, accentuated by the neatly trimmed stubble on the lower half of his face. It’s just one shade darker than the hair atop his head. The muscle in his cheek flexes as he clenches his jaw in concentration.
My stomach constricts in response.
Wrong day to skip breakfast apparently.
“Asymmetry of the pupils and changes in the pupillary light reflex need to be further assessed. Get out your penlights.” Dr. Zin continues, though many of us haven’t finished evaluating the first cranial nerve. “I’ll dim the lights just slightly, but please take your time. Measure your partner’s pupillary size and compare bilaterally.”
Dr. Zin taps a button on the wall next to his podium and the lights dim. Isaac bends at the waist to fish his penlight out of the front pocket of his bag. “Has your heart rate returned to normal?” he asks.
“Huh?” I respond quickly and without thought. He raises his eyebrows in question.
Isaac gestures to the canisters sitting next to me on the table. “I scared you and you nearly fell off the table two minutes ago. Are you good?”
I wave him off and try to smile. “Yeah, sorry, just a lack of coffee probably.” He eyes my half-empty plastic cup where it sits on the floor next to our table.
“Mhm, right.”
Okay, this is fine. I can admit that Isaac is attractive. That doesn’t mean anything. He’s just a man with forearms. And veins that are clearly visible on the backs of each of his large hands. And a t-shirt that wraps itself snugly along his chest and arms.
Just. A. Man.
“You know they say that your pupils enlarge when you’re looking at something you like,” Kelsey says, loud enough for nearly the entire room to hear, including Dr. Zin. He only shakes his head and diverts his attention to Marcus Young, who has his hand in the air in the corner of the room.
“Here, you do mine,” Isaac says, handing me his penlight. We switch places and I clear my throat, furiously clicking the button on the top of the pen light until we’re both ready.
“Okay, so pupillary size,” I hold the pen light next to his face and compare the images of example sizes. I flick my eyes back and forth, trying not to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time. I clear my throat again, turning to look at the chart that Dr. Zin pulled up on the projector screen. “Probably both like ten millimeters. Is that normal?”
“Am I gonna die, doc?” I return my gaze to Isaac, who is now sitting with his eyes crossed and his tongue hanging out of his mouth. I immediately burst into laughter, dropping the penlight on the floor between us. “What?” he asks. “What’s wrong with me, doc?”
I slap the side of his arm, trying to control my laughter, and he flinches.
“Hey, don’t abuse your patients,” he responds good-naturedly, finally uncrossing his eyes and shaking his head like a dog that just jumped out of a pool.
“I hate you,” I add quietly.
“Oh, but your pupils are telling a different story, Jocelyn,” he teases.
Oh boy. I’m in trouble.