Histology again.
Marcus had been sitting two benches down from me since the first week. I hadn't paid much attention to him until today, when Dr. Whitney walked in, he leaned over to the person beside him and said, just loud enough for the surrounding benches to hear.
"I swear she knows when you didn't read."
A couple of prople laughed, the rest stayed quiet.
I couldn't help but smile.
Dr. Whitney set her bag down and looked up.
The room went still immediately.
She scanned the room , then turned awaylike nothing had happened.
Marcus caught my eye across the benches and said silently "Too close."
I looked back at my microscope before I did something that got us both in trouble.
"You," Dr. Whitney said, stopping beside me again.
I had been expecting it. She had stopped at me last week.
"Last week you told me what you could identify," she said. "This week I want to know what you actually see."
No one spoke.
I looked through the eyepiece. Cardiac muscle again, different slide, different magnification.
I took my time.
"The cells are connected," I said slowly. "Not just touching, actually connected. Like they need each other to function. One cell can't do what it's supposed to do without the ones around it."
Nobody moved.
"And?" she said.
"And if one fails," I said, "the ones around it have to work harder to compensate. Until they can't."
The silence Lasted longer this time.
"Better," she said.
She moved on.
I let out a breath.
From two benches down, Marcus gave me a small, silent round of applause.
Ethan was waiting outside after my last lecture.
Not on the bench this time. Just standing by the door, hands in his pockets, watching the street outside.
He turned when he heard me.
"You came," I said.
"I said I would," he said.
We walked, not anywhere specific.
"I want to explain about Stephanie," he said.
"Okay," I said.
"I met her at orientation. I was one of the senior volunteers. We talked, exchanged numbers, stayed in touch." He paused. "That's it. That's the whole thing."
I walked beside him and said nothing.
"I know how it looked," he said. "I know what Zara saw. But it wasn't—"
"I believe you," I said.
"You do?" he said.
"I do," I said. "That doesn't mean the last two weeks didn't happen, you went quiet for three days. You walked away twice and you keep almost saying something and then not saying it."
He looked at me.
"I know," he said quietly. "I know I did all of that."
"So why?" I said. "Why do you keep doing that?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"Because I like you," he said. "And I'm not use to feeling like this."
I looked at him for a long moment.
"Don't do it again," I said.
"I won't," he said.
"I mean it, Ethan."
"I know," he said. "I mean it too."
Then he gave a small, uncertain smile.
And i smiled back just a little.
"Start over?" he said.
"Start over," I said.
We started walking, nowhere in particular.
For the first time in weeks, I wasn't thinking about what came next.
Just this moment.