Page 13 of Bad Crush
Maverick ruffles Rhett’s unruly blond hair. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he wasn’t talking about you.” He snorts and looks to me. “He totally was.”
“It was two times,” Rhett says, then adds. “No, three. It’s so warm in there, and the lights are dim.”
“You must be a firecracker in bed. Carrie is a lucky woman.” Maverick slicks back his dark hair with a comb. “Do you guys want to go to The Hideout?”
Rhett rubs his stomach. “If I eat a big meal before coming back here, I’ll definitely fall asleep.”
“I’m having dinner with Ginny at the dining hall,” Heath says. “You’re welcome to come.”
“I can only take so much of you two in one day. No offense, buddy. Love you, but I’m starting to feel like the third wheel.” Mav looks to me. “Scott?”
I shoulder my bag. “Can’t. I have a meeting with Dr. Salco. I’m hoping she found a scholarship for me. Later, guys.”
After trekking across campus, I stop outside of Dr. Salco’s office, then take a deep breath and let it out slowly. She’s holding my future in her hands, and she is not known for her bedside, or office-side, manner.
Medical school is expensive. I don’t qualify for aid, and if I don’t want to end up in debt for the next thirty years, I need the scholarship she funds. One student is chosen each year. She’s some sort of multi-millionaire. Her dad, also a doctor, co-founded a pharmaceutical company that took off. Anyway, the only detail that’s important is that she has the ability to make my next four years of school a hell of a lot cheaper.
I step into the doorway and then freeze when another student is sitting in the chair in front of her desk. Not just any student. Janine. Also known as the bane of my existence.
“Sorry.” I check the clock on the far wall. “I thought we were meeting at five.”
“We are.” She waves me in. “Have a seat.”
The only available chair is crammed into a corner and has a stack of medical journals in the seat.
I hesitate, avoiding Janine’s gaze. We’ve been duking it out for the past three years. Both premed, both at the top of the class, both hate to be outdone.
“You can set those on the bookcase,” Dr. Salco instructs.
Once I’m finally squeezed into the small chair, she starts. “Thank you two for coming. I won’t mince words. Choosing a recipient for the department scholarship has been difficult this year. You’re both straight-A students, hardworking, and each juggling your own extracurriculars on top of school. Your professors have wonderful things to say about you. Both of your recommendations are top-notch. In short, it’s been an impossible task deciding between the two of you.”
And here I thought I was the clear choice. Sure, Janine is smart and gets good grades, but she relies too much on her book smarts and being ultra-prepared and organized. Not that those things aren’t important, but being a doctor requires you to be ready for anything, to think on your feet.
“What does that mean for the scholarship?” I ask.
“You’re not going to make us split it, are you? I need that scholarship more than Adam does. Half isn’t enough,” Janine says.
Dr. Salco raises a hand to silence us. Which is great because I need to keep my cool and that’s impossible when Janine spouts off. She has no idea what I need.
“No. The rules are clear that only one student can be selected, but to help the committee choose, we’d like you both to join us for the scholarship banquet. Tell us in your own words why you should be chosen.”
“You want us to give a speech?” I sit forward and swallow thickly.
“How long should the speech be? And are there any guidelines for content outside of why I’m a better candidate?” Janine takes notes on her iPad.
I grind my teeth at her eager and prepared attitude, then unzip my backpack for a pen and paper.
“Five minutes is plenty. The focus should be on your accomplishments and plans for the future. The committee is made up of doctors and professors who have been in your shoes. Make your case.” Her mouth pulls into a tight-lipped smile. “I will email all the details,” she says to me as I continue, elbow-deep in my bag, rummaging for something to write on.
“Thank you,” I mutter quietly.
Once she dismisses us, I walk out feeling a lot less optimistic than when I arrived. Janine is a step behind me as we exit. Neither of us speaks until we’re outside of the building.
“Don’t look so down, Adam. Sweet talking women is your specialty, right?” She rolls her eyes.
“I doubt that’s going to work considering the committee is sixty percent male,” I fire back. “Also, I don’t sweet talk women.”
“Sure, whatever you say. At least you don’t have to worry about all the old men who still think women should be nurses instead of doctors.”
