Page 4 of Deep Blue Lies
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head. Trying to think. “Do I have to…decide this right now?”
Again Gavin and Dr Evans glance at each other. The Student Support Officer gives me a sympathetic smile, apparently the full extent of the support I’m getting.
“It would certainly be helpful if you could give an answer now.” Again it’s Gavin who answers, still playing good cop. Dr Evans tuts and checks his watch again. Gavin explains. “The panel is only meeting this morning, and it’s only your case that we’re considering. I suppose we could…” – he looks to Dr Evans hopefully – “An hour?” Then he turns back to me, his smile brighter now that he’s won me this victory.
“If you could let me know within the hour, we can get this wrapped up?”
I try to think, to make sense of things. Is this really happening? My mum is going to go crazy. She’s helped me so much to get here. She’s supported me, she’s been so proud that I’m going to be a doctor…and now I’ve totally let her down. I start to feel a hollowness inside me, that I know is going to get so much worse.
“Well, I think we’re done here.” Dr Evans claps his hands together, happy with his morning’s work. The Student Support Officer offers another supportive look.
After I leave, I see the noticeboard where the exams results get pinned. My embarrassing failure still on display for all to see. I don’t look and go back to the stairwell, hoping I won’t run into anyone I know.
My steps ring out as I work my way down. I’m not really thinking yet, just aware of the light from the windows, bright and cold. The clouds outside scudding by on a stiff north breeze, just like they were before I went in. Yet everything else has changed.
That’s when it really hits me. That this is actually over. I’ve worked so hard, for so long to get here, and now it’s done. I’m not going to be a doctor. I failed.
As I push my way outside my mobile buzzes in my pocket. It’s a message from Kevin.
Lunch, Babe?
I stare at the screen a second before stepping out into the cold.
TWO
I meet Kevin at The Hub cafe. Or rather, Kevin and two of his mates, Sam and a guy called Fraz, who regularly reminds me that people call him The Frazster.
“Hey Ava.” Kev gives me his smile, and just the slightest raise of his eyebrows, so I assume he’s been wondering how it went.
“Hi Ava,” Fraz says. He’s on the same course as Kevin. “Hey, d’you know that Elon Musk once bought a McLaren F1 car for one million dollars, and then deliberately drove it without any insurance. And do you know why?”
I stare at him, blinking a little. “No. Hey Kev, can we…maybe have a word?”
“It’s because he knew it would put this pressure on himself,” Fraz goes on. “You know? Because of the consequences if he crashed it. You manufacture your own pressure, so it pushes you harder to succeed.” I flash a look in his direction, willing him to shut up.
“Kev?”
“Sure.” Kev studies my face, then nods. “There’s some tables over there.”
The Hub is in a big hall, only about a third full, so there’s spacefor a private talk. Kev carries his tray with sandwiches. His usual bottle of Prime.
“You want anything to eat?” he says, as we sit down. Since we’re now the opposite end from the serving area, it’s awkward for me to say yes. But I’m not hungry.
“No.”
We’re both silent.
“So? What’s this about?”
“What? You haven’t forgottenagain? My meeting?”
“No,” – he screws up his face, wounded – “of course not, I just didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it.”
I don’t know whether to believe him, but maybe I’m being unfair.
“How’d it go?” he asks.
