I let out a relieved sigh, standing up and dusting off some of the crumbs that fell onto my shirt. “Thank fuck.”
If it was broken, there’s a good chance the season would be over for him, or at least a large chunk of it.
“Right.” He lets out a breath. “Hey, you going to eat that?” he asks, nodding at the other granola bar sitting on the chair next to mine.
I roll my eyes, grabbing the granola bar, the Gatorade, and his keys. I almost toss the granola bar at him but think better of it since his good hand is already full.
>> <<
The hot water of the shower sprays my back, and I turn to let it run down my face, willing myself to wake up.
After my shower, I lazily slip into a pair of jeans and shoes, tugging a simple T-shirt over my head. With great effort, I sling on my backpack and trudge to the science building.
When I round the corner to the anatomy lab, I find the majority of the class waiting outside, the door to the lab closed. Most of my classmates are sitting on the floor, their lab manuals in their laps as they study. But one brunet in particular catches my eye.
Olivia sits on the floor sandwiched between Delilah and Rat Boy as they all look over their lab manuals.
I walk over to them, standing in front of Olivia. Gently, I tap the toe of my shoe to hers to gain her attention. “Hey, Finch.” I smile once she looks up at me.
She flashes me that beautiful smile of hers. “Hey.”
I kneel down to be at eye level with her. “Whatcha doin’? Why is everyone out in the hallway?”
“Tracy is setting up for our quiz,” she informs me.
“Shit.” I completely forgot about the quiz.
Falling back on my ass, I take a seat, struggling to rip off my backpack and pull out my manual.
I hear Rat Boy let out a judgmental scoff, and I quickly flip him off while Olivia’s face is buried in her book.
For the next ten minutes I sit in the middle of the hallway, trying to cram all of what we went over last week into my brain. Kids come and go, brushing past me as I sit nearly in the middle of the hallway. I scoot forward as much as I can, my knees inches from Olivia’s as we sit crisscross, facing each other.
“All right, everyone,” Tracy says in her usual chipper tone, opening the door. “Ready?”
Everyone lets out grumbles, getting up and heading to the door to go inside.
“Manuals away!” Tracy orders before anyone can sneak into the room.
I gather my things and stand, extending my hand to Olivia to help her up. She accepts, her small hand fitting in mine as I tug her up. I keep hold of her hand until I’m sure she’s stable, fully standing, and catch a look at her warm brown eyes.
Someone loudly clears their throat from the floor, and we tear our gazes away to look down at Delilah. She looks at me expectantly, jutting her hand out to me.
With reluctance, I let go of Olivia’s hand and extend my hand to Delilah, helping her up from the floor.
“Thanks, Bronx. You’re a peach,” she says, patting my shoulder before brushing past me to head into the classroom.
I look over at Olivia, whose eyes are laughing at the whole situation.
My lips curve and I extend my arm, gesturing for her to lead the way. I follow her to our table, the smell of formaldehyde strong. Rats are placed on every table, little stakes with numbers sticking out of them punctured into some of their organs. A piece of paper lies on the table at every seat, a quiz of about ten questions.
Taking my seat, I mentally groan, knowing I’m not prepared for this.
“Be sure to write your name at the top and answer all the questions,” Tracy instructs. “Some are basic questions, and some will have you identify different parts of the cadaver, so pay attention.”
I stare at the questions blankly, not knowing a handful of them. Damn, I should have remembered to study.
Discreetly—guiltily—I strain my eyes to try to glance at Olivia’s paper, but her long hair creates a curtain as she leans forward to write, shielding her answers. I sneak a peek across the table but Delilah has her forearm on top of her paper, and Rat Boy is clearly hiding his answers by using his tiny hand as a shield. Asshole.
