“I know,” I replied smugly.
Nathan smiled, the first time I’d ever seen him do so, and then he actually laughed. It softened the harsh lines of his jaw and made me notice, for the first time, the fullness of his lips. The sound seemed to surprise him, because he snapped his mouth shut almost immediately. He looked at his watch, frowning again. “It’s late. But we should call Dr. Nielsen.”
I smiled again, not even bothering to hide how smug I felt. “Do it.”
After that strange night, or fever dream, Nathan and I went back to quietly ignoring each other. We worked on expanding the research to confirm it wasn’t just one donor’s cells that showed mutability. And I’d been a named author on the paper that led to Dr. Nielsen being profiled in Scientific American as “a visionary researcher.”
And now, here we were, recruited away from academia by Lisbeth for a study on the effect of Omega stem cell therapy in an orthopedic context. Further testing was required before the data could be applied in human trials for direct bone marrow transplants, but orthopedic therapy was an ideal testing ground. HLA compatibility wasn’trequiredin these cases, but it led to much better outcomes.
“It’s a chance to doreal, tangible good,” Lisbeth had said when she called me about the opportunity. “You can go back for your Ph.D., but there’s a limited window to be on the ground floor of this research.”
She was right, of course, and it would be nice to make some actual money, even if it meant leaving my comfort zone.
But I’d expanded my comfort zone before. The Fairview University labs had once felt inhospitable and scary, but I’d made myself at home there eventually. I could do the same here.
As I signed my name on yet another document without registering what it was, I promised myself I wouldn’t let Nathanintimidate me this time around. He may have been the one with “Senior” in his title, but I wasn’t a timid grad student anymore. And I’d make sure he didn’t dim Anvi’s obvious enthusiasm by being a dick, either.
We spent the day calibrating equipment and making sure we were prepared for the first scheduled batch of donor cells.
To my surprise, Nathan helped with the menial work rather than delegating it all to us minions.
Anvi chattered throughout the afternoon, telling me all about her tight-knit family, her cat Bili, and her obsession with a band called Jinx. We eventually made our way into the cleanroom. I liked my new lab coat, emblazoned with the clinic’s logo in blue on the left breast, and small enough that I wasn’t swimming in it. The nitrile gloves also came in more than just “large” and “huge” sizes. With our hair covers and safety goggles, we looked like extras in CSI as we did checks on the sterile equipment. The fans in the biosafety cabinets, and the hum of the incubators and freezers, created a white noise that always relaxed me.
“What about you? Who’s your favorite band?” Anvi asked after a long-winded explanation of why Jinx was the most underrated pop group ever.
“Oh, I’m not really a music person,” I said, distracted. The biosafety cabinet was different from the model I’d worked with before, and the sash was proving difficult to open.
“What?” she squawked, sounding scandalized. “You don’t likemusic?”
“I like it; I just don’t really have strong feelings about it.” I should have told her I liked everything, like I usually did. “I’m not a total weirdo, though. I love movies.”
Anvi looked relieved. “Oh, me too! What’s your favorite movie of all time?”
I smiled at the question. “ProbablyThe Philadelphia Story,” I said, finally finding the catch and sliding the glass door up. “Katharine Hepburn, Cary Grant,andJimmy Stewart? Can’t beat it.”
“I’ve never even heard of that.” Anvi wrinkled her nose.
“It’s from 1940, but I promise it’s really good.”
“Oh, ew,” she said with a laugh. “Hard pass.”
I laughed too. “Okay, how aboutThe Princess Bride? You’ve seen that, right?”
Anvi shook her head, staring at me from one of the incubators she was temp-checking with an ambient thermometer. She moved to the low-temp freezer next, opened the door, and thought for a moment. “I’ve seenThe Princess Diarieswith my older sister?” she offered.
“Okay, well, that is a 2000s classic. I also know every word toMean Girls.”
“Close that door,” Nathan said abruptly. Anvi jumped and slammed the freezer door shut. “Even leaving it open for 20 seconds can raise the temperature significantly.”
“Sorry,” Anvi said quickly.
“It’s fine,” I said, and glared at Nathan. “Do the temp check. You’re doing great.”
We lapsed into silence after that. Nathan seemed completely unaware that he’d been rude.
At around 4 p.m., Nathan looked up from his running list of missing supplies. “Good work today. We’re in good shape for tomorrow. You can head home.”
Anvi cheered, and we removed our PPE in the anteroom. “Do you want to go for a drink?” she asked as we walked back to the office area.
