Page 140 of Triple Play
By the time we finally collapse into bed—all four of us tangled together because we stopped pretending to use separate rooms—it’s almost sunrise.
Grant’s fingers trace patterns on my spine. Wyatt’s breathing evens out. Jordie’s already half asleep.
“I love you,” I say to all of them. To none of them. To the room.
“Love you too,” they answer in unison.
Perfect.
Everything’s perfect.
Monday morning comes too fast.
My Johns Hopkins interview is in four hours.
Grant makes me breakfast. Wyatt helps me pick an outfit. Jordie stress-reorganizes my notes until I have to physically remove them from his hands.
“You’re ready,” Grant says. “You’ve got this.”
“What if—”
“No what-ifs.” He cups my face. “You’re brilliant. They’d be idiots not to accept you.”
“Grant’s right,” Wyatt adds. “Which is rare, so—”
“I’m right more than you think.”
“Debatable.”
“Guys.” Jordie checks his watch. “She’s got three hours. Stop bickering.”
At 9:45, I’m set up at the kitchen table with my laptop. Professional blazer. Notes organized. Water bottle nearby.
The guys are in the living room, trying to be quiet but failing spectacularly.
10 AM. The Zoom link activates.
Dr. Choi appears on screen, along with two other faculty members.
“Miss Hart. Good morning.”
“Good morning, Dr. Choi. Thank you again for—”
“Let’s skip the pleasantries. We’ve got a lot to cover.” But she’s smiling. “Tell me why you want to be a doctor.”
I take a breath.
And I tell them.
About my mother. About growing up watching her resent the daughter she never wanted.
About working three jobs to pay for undergrad. About choosing Crestmont’s pre-med program even though it meant living with three strange guys during a housing crisis.
About falling in love. About fighting for it. About learning that loving people doesn’t make you weak—it makes you stronger.
By the time I finish, one of the other faculty members is wiping her eyes.
Dr. Choi just nods. “Now tell me about your research proposal.”
