Page 10 of Fortunate Misfortune
I slip onto the tailbone-bruising seat and pull out my planner, forcing myself to take deep and slow breaths. My endocrinologist, Dr. Morand, should be proud of me for doing my morning breathing exercises, considering he calls me a ball of stress.
Today’s agenda is already stacked: two classes, practice, grocery shopping, research summer internships, pick up my insulin, change my glucose monitor sensor, and prepare for the first week of school. I scribblefix tirein purple ink.
I take another deep inhale and freeze, suddenly more on edge than I was earlier. My skin crawls as each hair takes its time standing upright, my nose stinging at the assault on my nostrils.
Clean soap.
Citrus.
Chlorine.
Fuck.
“Gray?” I whisper, dread filling me as he swivels around.
The second his tired eyes meet mine, the enormous orange between his hands falls to the floor, and he has the audacity to gawk at me as if I slapped it down.
In our time in the Hilliard School of Public Health, we’ve never had a class together. While we have overlap in our studies, I prefer morning classes while he chooses afternoon ones. Now he has screwed up our foolproof system.
“Happy Tuesday, class!”
I straighten, forcing my eyes to stay on the professor’s leopard print tie and not the man beside me. After a moment of hesitation, Kenneth follows my lead and faces the front.
“Welcome to Public Health Professions 301. I’m Dr. Andres Martin. Many of you may remember me from Intro to Epidemiology.” He takes a moment to smile at each table, and I return it. I loved his class sophomore year. “The Hilliard School of Public Health has four undergraduate programs, so let’s see what our mix is. How many of you are with nutrition?”
Six hands including mine go up.
“Environmental?” Nine hands go up.
“Biostatistics?” Kenneth’s hand raises with two others.
“And health administration and policy?” My hand goes up alone.
“Perfect.” Dr. Martin claps. “If you’re sitting with someone in the same program as you, please switch tables.”
Dr. Martin is well known for forcing students to mingle, but I won’t let that keep me from my number one mission: avoid Kenneth Gray.
Gathering my belongings, I stand and sprint toward a seat with an environmental student. Her brunette braid whips back and forth as she waves me over.
“Wait,” Dr. Martin says. He might as well be pointing at me because everyone’s eyes jump to me. “You’re health admin and nutrition, and your tablemate is biostats, which means you’re good to stay.”
I nod, swallowing a groan as I trudge back to my seat and plop onto the lab stool.
“Causing trouble on the first day?” Kenneth lets out a low whistle. “Atta girl.”
When Dr. Martin looks away to stop another switch attempt, I push my middle finger into Kenneth’s smug face to shut him up. There’s no way I’m going to survive sitting beside him all semester. With the Brain Bowl, sharing a best friend, and being student-athletes, our lives are intertwined enough.
The volume of the room skyrockets as everyone dives into introductions. Well, everyone except us. I already know everything I need to know about my tablemate. He’s spontaneous, untroubled, and mind-achingly relaxed all the time.
The complete opposite of me.
My moment of peace takes a nosedive straight to hell when Dr. Martin’s gaze lands on our table. He encourages us to speak, opening and closing his hands like a chicken’s beak. Fine.
“Mallory Edwards. Better than you.”
“Kenneth Gray. Over my dead body.”
As if hearing our exchange, the professor chuckles. “Now that you’re acquainted, let’s get into the syllabus. This elective is meant to be full of work and fun. We’ve got weekly quizzes, a final exam, and a project. Your project is an application for a summer internship for the Hilliard School of Public Health. While you aren’t required to apply for the internship, every part of the process will be graded. The winner will choose a mentor from the specialty of their choosing and work beside them for ten weeks.”
