Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
***
My brother drops me off at the dorm, where I make a hasty clothing change. Violet is in our room, sitting on her bed.
“Hey! How was your week off?” I ask, stripping out of yesterday’s clothes. I reach for a button-down shirt and pull it on before I even notice how silent she’s been. “Violet?” I prompt, turning for a better look. “You okay?”
Her eyes are red. “I had my meeting.”
“Already?” I shove my legs into a clean pair of pants. “Didn’t it go well?” I can’t imagine that Violet failed her exam. Ms. Know-It-All was well prepared.
“I got a B-minus on the pharmacology exam,” she says with a sniff.
“God, I want a B-minus,” I say, hunting around for some socks.
“My mother is going to kill me.”
This gets my attention. “Why? That’s ridiculous.”
Violet sighs. “I’ll get a lecture about setting an example. The Smith family has been demonstrating excellence in medicine for a hundred years, blah blah blah.”
“Wait, what? How is that your problem?”
“It’s this school. This place. My parents have an inflated idea of our importance.”
I think this through while putting on my socks. The Smith School of Medicine and Nursing has never been more to me than a name etched on a limestone facade.
But…my roommate’s name is Violet Smith.
“Oh shit. You’re that kind of Smith?”
She nods miserably.
“And a B-minus is the end of the world because your name is over the door?” I’m trying to listen, I really am, but in ten minutes, I have my own meeting.
“There goes my spring-break trip to the Bahamas,” Violet mumbles. “I was really looking forward to it.”
“I’m sorry,” I say kindly. I’ve felt family pressure, that’s for sure. And I’m pretty certain mine was even deserved. “But you have to be proud of yourself for you. They won’t be able to lord vacations over you forever. You have your own life.”
She gives me some teary thanks, which I barely have time to accept. I grab my coat and my backpack and slip on some shoes, and then I’m out of there.
Halfway to the director’s office, it hits me. If Violet got a B-minus, then how tough was the grading on this exam? Just like that, the confidence I’d felt earlier this morning drains right out of me, and when I open the director’s door, my knees are shaking.
“Jessica, come in!” she says, waving me toward one of the heavy wooden chairs in front of her desk. Carol Taylor is in her sixties, with bright blue eyes and a quick smile.
Her friendly face does nothing for my nerves, though. It’s her job to maintain the excellence of the program. And if I’m not excellent, I’m sure they’ll show me the door.
“Let’s get right to it,” she says as my stomach roils. She opens a file folder and pulls out my anatomy exam. I can see the skeleton outline on the first page. “An A-minus on your anatomy and physiology exam. Keep up the good work.”
“Thank you.”
“Nurse Hailey liked your observational work.” She’s skimming some notes on a page. “And then there’s your pharmacology score…” She flips the page.
I brace myself.
“Hmm.” She leans closer to the exam booklet.
I’m dying.
“The professor has awarded you a B-minus,” she finally reveals.
I let out a gasp of excitement.
“Oh, don’t be sad,” she says, misunderstanding my reaction. “The notes are good. Your essay was brief but succinct. Good grasp of the basics.”
“I’m not sad,” I say quickly. “That test was hard, and I was worried about my grade point average. I have the Harper scholarship to reapply for in the spring.”
Carol looks up. “Oh, honey. Don’t worry so much about that. We make everyone reapply because it gives us an out if someone isn’t putting in the effort. But it’s clear to me that you’re going to become a fine nurse.”
“It is?”
She smiles. “Of course. Nurse Hailey is very pleased with your work in the retirement home. She says you take a lot of care to put your patients at ease. You sing to them?”
Thank you, Dyson. “Sometimes.”
“She also said”—Carol flips back a page in my file—“that a pediatric cancer patient raved about your visit. Read this when you get a chance.” She hands over the whole folder. “That patient is having surgery soon, and Nurse Hailey thought the young woman would enjoy a visit from you.”
“Oh wow.” I take the file back, but I’m still hearing the echo of “B-minus” in my head. It’s better than I expected. I can hardly believe it.
“You’ve done well, Jessica. In fact, I expect the second trimester to feel easier for you.”
“Really?”
“Our returning students always have an adjustment period. They’re usually intimidated to be back in the classroom setting. But with comments like these, your prognosis is excellent.” She smiles. “Thank you for stopping by.”
I shake her hand eagerly and then scamper out of there like an eager puppy.