Chapter Seven #4
"I have a feeling you're about to become ridiculously competitive over a carousel."
Maybe.
The ride lasted barely a few minutes, yet I couldn't remember the last time I'd enjoyed something so utterly uncomplicated.
Watching Jack laugh silently as his horse rose and fell with the music erased every image I'd formed of the quiet, endlessly composed medical student.
For those few minutes he looked younger, carefree, and completely at peace, and I found myself wishing I could preserve that expression forever.
When the carousel stopped, we wandered outside carrying steaming cups of hot chocolate from a small kiosk overlooking the falls.
The constant roar of water echoed through the park as the Spokane River crashed over the basalt rocks before continuing westward beneath the bridges.
We leaned against the railing without speaking for a while, content to watch the water and the rainbow beginning to form in the early evening mist.
Eventually I broke the silence.
"So...how's medical school going?"
Busy. Fourth year is mostly clinical rotations. I'm usually at the hospital during the day, then studying at night.
"I don't know how you fit everything in."
He shrugged lightly.
Coffee helps.
I laughed.
"I was expecting some deep medical secret."
His thumbs moved again.
That's the secret…Coffee.
"I'll remember that."
We wandered a little farther along the path, hand in hand, before I spoke again.
"Kinesiology's already proving more interesting than I expected.
Professor Caroline Jensen spent close to the entire lecture explaining how the body creates efficient movement.
I figured we'd be talking muscles and bones.
Instead, she had us looking at force generation, balance, joint angles, and how tiny adjustments can completely change athletic performance. "
Jack smiled as he read the message.
Sounds like a good professor.
"She is. It made me appreciate just how much goes into becoming an elite skater. I'd always thought it was mostly natural ability."
Jack smiled.
Natural ability helps. Everything else takes work.
"I'm discovering that pretty quickly. I've got to admit, I don't know how you juggle everything."
Jack raised an eyebrow in question.
"The rink. Medical school. Helping your dad. It feels like you've always got somewhere to be."
He smiled before typing.
Some days it feels that way.
"So why do it?"
Because I love all of it.
There wasn't any hesitation. Only certainty.
We strolled through Riverfront Park, neither of us feeling any urgency to reach the parking lot.
We exchanged thoughts when there was something worth saying, and the silences between us never felt awkward.
Every so often Jack freed one hand long enough to type a reply on his phone before slipping his fingers back through mine.
We compared professors, laughed over impossible reading lists, and discovered we were both still trying to work out how twenty-four hours in a day were supposed to be enough.
My schedule was intimidating with early-morning conditioning, lectures, afternoon practices, workouts, study sessions, and road trips once the regular season began, yet listening to everything expected of fourth-year medical students made my life sound relaxing.
"I'm beginning to think Coach goes easy on us compared to your professors."
Jack laughed silently before his fingers moved across the keyboard of his phone while we waited at a traffic light.
Don't tell him that. He'd probably add another conditioning session.
I groaned.
"Please don't even joke about it."
His shoulders shook with silent laughter.
The conversation returned to medicine as we crossed campus.
"So what happens next?"
He typed another reply.
I'm rotating through different departments this year. Long days. Sometimes nights. It depends where I'm assigned. I've already completed a surgical rotation and have several more before graduation.
" So you're seeing patients every day now?"
Every day.
"I'd be terrified."
Everyone is at first. That's why we're supervised.
"It must feel different once they're real people instead of simulations."
His expression became thoughtful.
It does. That's also why it matters so much to get it right.
There was something in his eyes when he wrote those words.
Not fear.
Responsibility.
The kind that couldn't really be explained unless you'd chosen a profession where mistakes carried consequences measured in human lives.
"I think you'll be an incredible doctor."
Color touched his cheeks.
He looked away before answering.
I hope so.
I wasn't sure why that simple reply affected me as much as it did.
Maybe because he meant every word.
Maybe because humility suited him.
Or maybe because every hour I spent with Jack revealed another reason to admire him.
By the time we left Riverfront Park, dusk had settled over Spokane, softening the edges of the city beneath amber streetlights and deepening shades of blue. Neither of us seemed particularly eager for the afternoon to end, and I found myself wishing the drive back to campus were twice as long.