I quickly pull my shirt back down.
One of the students yanks open the locker three doors away from mine and gives me a charming smile. And oh my God, this guy is cute. I mean, seriously cute. If someone made a movie about our med school class, he’d be playing himself. His face is classically handsome, but most of all, I can’t stop staring at his hazel eyes, and I have to admit, at this moment, Landon is the farthest thing from my mind.
Especially when Dreamy McCutie pulls off his shirt.
Wow, look at that chest. Sheesh.
“What’s wrong?” he asks me as he fishes through his locker for his scrub top. “You forget something?”
Oh God, I need to stop staring at this guy.
“No,” I mumble, still clutching my own scrubs to my chest. “I just… need to go change.”
Dreamy McCutie yanks a crisp green scrub top from his locker and winks at me. “So what are you waiting for?”
I swallow, feeling like a silly little girl at a boy-band concert. I should not be swooning over random guys in my class. I have a boyfriend who I love, who I want to marry. And even if I didn’t, Istillshouldn’t be swooning.
And I definitely shouldn’t be changing my clothes in front of this guy.
“Excuse me,” I say, and I race off in the direction of the ladies’ room.
I arrive at the ladies’ room about a minute later. It’s a comforting sight, packed to the brim with other female students who are also too chicken to change clothes in the hallway. We prudes definitely make up the majority.
The stalls have already all been claimed, but I feel comfortable enough in the female company to get undressed bythe sinks. I stand next to the sink at the far end and grab onto it to keep my balance while I pull my feet out of my pants legs. But as my fingers grip the sink, they hit a defect in the otherwise smooth white porcelain. It’s a significant crack, which has not yet been repaired.
Last year, the girl who OD’d did it in the bathroom by the anatomy labs. You can see the crack in the sink where her head smacked against it before she hit the floor.
Rachel’s words echo in my skull as I yank my hand away from the sink. My head is spinning as I stare at that crack in the flawless white. This is it. This is where it happened.
The girl responsible for this crevice was standing right where I was a year ago. She was changing into her scrubs in anticipation of her very first lab. Like me, she was probably a mix of excited and nervous.
She had no idea that only a short while later, this would be where she would die.
4
To sayI’m anxious about this lab would be an understatement. I am terrified.
Everyone has assured me I’ll be okay. That you get so involved in what you’re doing, you forget it’s a real dead body. It’s sort of like dissecting that plastic dummy we used during our CPR course.
Anyway, that’s what I keep repeating to myself over and over. But what if I faint? What if I vomit? What if I vomit then faint in a puddle of my vomit? I’ll never live that down.
I stand outside the door to the lab for far too long before I work up the nerve to enter. Long enough that I’m starting to get a few funny looks. About five other students push past me before I heave a deep breath and step inside.
The lab is cold. Really cold. Little goose pimples rise up on my forearms, and I hug my chest for warmth. Also, it’s bright. Bright enough that I have to squint for a few seconds until my eyes adjust.
Also, the room is filled with dead bodies.
There are a couple dozen metal tables spread throughout the room. The bodies have been covered with plastic, but severalgray mounds have been exposed by the lab groups. The only good thing I can say is that the bodies have been positioned face down, so no dead eyes are staring up at me. But it’s still pretty creepy.
I hug my chest tighter.
“Heather?” A soft-spoken voice comes from behind me, and a (hopefully clean) hand falls on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I look up. It’s Abe, the nice bearlike guy I met yesterday. He’s got a little furrow between his red-orange brows.
I decide to be honest with him. “I’m feeling a little… squeamish.”
“Oh!” He looks appropriately concerned but not judgmental at all. “Do you think you’re going to faint?”
