Page 14 of Bad Crush
Yeah, that definitely sucks. I’ve seen it firsthand in a couple of classes too. Extra help, pulling me and a few other guys aside after class to make sure we’re doing okay, and probably other instances that I didn’t even pick up on.
I level with her. “I need that scholarship.”
“So do I. I’m already in debt from undergrad.”
I was lucky that I got a full-ride scholarship for hockey, but it’s nothing compared to the total we’ll need for medical school.
“What do you think they’re going to be looking for in our speeches?” she asks.
“I don’t know.” I glance around the campus greens, mind racing. “Assurances that we won’t drop out probably. Or flunk out.”
“Do you want to get together to work on our speeches?” she asks, sounding like she’d rather not.
“You know, most people wouldn’t share their plans with the enemy so willingly.”
She mutters something under her breath that I don’t catch, then says, “If I win, I want to know it’s because I’m the better candidate.”
“Well, when I win, you can extend that same line of thinking and know I’m the better candidate.”
“Your ego is obnoxious.” She takes a step down the sidewalk. “Tomorrow after biochemistry?”
“I’ll be there.”
* * *
The following afternoon,I slide into a chair opposite Janine at a table on the second floor of the library. She’s already got her laptop open and a printed draft of her speech sitting beside her.
“I worked on it all night. It’s rough, but I tried to hit three main points.”
I pick it up and scan multiple pages. Jesus. I haven’t even started. I drop it to the table. “Okay. Let’s hear them.”
“Point number one, I’m an exceptional student and dedicated to the medical field. I have an example of my work with the crisis line. Point number two, all the reasons why I want to be a doctor and the justifications for why I think I’ll be good at it. I won’t bore you with my life story.”
“Gonna hear it eventually anyway.”
“And point three, my goals and promises for the future as it relates to being a doctor.”
“Not bad,” I say. Not bad at all.
“Not bad isn’t good.” She sounds offended that I didn’t love it.
“It’s just that what you have planned is exactly what they’re expecting. We both drone on about our qualifications and hopes and dreams, and then they choose based on what? Who they like better?”
“That is the basic setup of this whole thing.”
“They already know all this shit about us.” I wave toward her papers. “They’ve seen our transcripts and probably our admission letters, too.”
She nods. “Yeah. So, what are you suggesting instead?”
I tap my pencil on the table. “I’m not sure.”
“All night and that’s what you came up with?” She gives me a look like she expected as much from me. “You know, you won’t be able to glide through med school like you have the past four years.”
“What does that mean?”
“You show up unprepared. Always. Class, meetings, study group. And it works for you because you’re smart and professors like you.”
“I’m not unprepared. I thought we were meeting todayto prepare. Instead, you over-prepared, like you always do.”
