The Scars of Anatomy

19. Believe In Me

I walk into the anatomy lecture hall, feeling surprisingly confident, given the circumstances. Drowning out all the low, ominous, and anxious murmurs, I walk past students who have their noses shoved in textbooks, cramming in a last minute study session, and make my way to my seat. 

Halfway up the stairs, a pair of warm brown irises catch mine and I smile, jogging just a tad bit faster to reach my seat. "Hey, Finch," I greet her once I take a seat, sitting one chair away from her since its test day.

She flashes me a nervous smile. "Ready?"

"So ready." I smirk confidently. "You better start planning out your outfit for The Library."

She rolls her eyes, pressing her lips together to suppress a smile. "Only if you get an A, remember?"

"I've got this. C'mon, Finch, have some faith in me. You are my tutor, after all," I tease.

Her eyes soften, a look in them I can't quite decipher. "I believe in you," she says sincerely.

I smile. "So, what are you going to wear?" I press, quirking a brow.

She rolls her eyes again, shaking her head in amusement. "You're impossible."

I grin, but it quickly fades when I catch rat boy walking in with Delilah, his beady little eyes shooting daggers my way.

"Where were you yesterday?" rat boy demands Olivia as soon as he makes his way to our tier of the lecture hall.

Olivia balances. "Uh, I was too busy studying for this," she says, awkwardly avoiding eye contact by pretending to look for something in her pencil bag.

"Really?" rat boy asks in a demeaning tone that makes me clinch my fists. In my opinion, he might as well should have just said bullshit. "Olivia, you know this stuff like the back of your hand, and you're telling me you blew off the Medical Honor Society meeting just to study?"

He looks at her incredulously.

She gives a weak shrug, still avoiding eye contact. "You guys were only meeting up to get coffee and discuss a few things. It was more of a social event than an actual meeting. You didn't really need me there."

"But you're the president!"

"Let it go, Quinton," Delilah says, sounding tired and annoyed.

He throws her a glare.

Wait, did Olivia skip her meeting just to tutor me?

Yesterday afternoon, Olivia and I met up in the library, cramming in a last minute study session to prepare for today's test. Our study session lasted for three hours, not including our impromptu little dinner date that I may have talked her into halfway.

Before any more questions can be asked or accusations thrown, our anatomy professor walks in and a hush falls over the classroom. Once the rules and guidelines are explained and established, tests start getting passed out.

I look over at Olivia and she gives me a soft, reassuring smile. "Good luck," she mouths, just before copies of the test are passed down our row.

I walk out of the lecture hall, feeling oddly confident. Just as I suspected, I find Olivia waiting for me, sitting on a bench down the hall. She finished her test about twenty minutes ago, but I stayed back, not rushing and triple checking my answers.

Sensing my presence, she looks up from her phone. She sits up straighter, eyes wide, anxious. "Well, how did it go?" she asks impatiently.

I let out a dramatic sigh, plopping down beside her. I practically fall on top of her, purposefully sitting halfway on her lap. Not enough to crush her, though.