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She sighs again, and something in her shrinks. Her shoulders soften and she seems smaller somehow.
“I was distracted. I missed the question, the doctor got pissed and canceled class.”
“Sounds like a dick.”
“A dick who is an expert on chronic kidney disease. And who is only teaching two sessions.” She tucks a chunk of hair behind her ear. “It was mortifying. I don’t know why I’m not… I don’t know. Stronger, I guess?”
“Faye,” I say, giving her ponytail a gentle tug. “First of all, that sounds like ahimproblem, not ayouproblem. And as for you? You’re one of the strongest people I know.”
“Huh,” she says with a clipped, wry laugh. “Maybe that’s why your team isn’t winning more?”
“Ouch!” I press my hand to my chest.
She laughs and leans her shoulder into mine.
It’s so easy with her. Even when it’s not actually easy, this thing between us, this friendship or whatever it is, it’s so easy. I rub at the same spot, right over my heart, where I feel a sudden tightness.
“I should be stronger than that.”
“Stronger than what?”
“Strong enough to put up with a jerk. I should be able to tolerate it. I’m going to have to deal with patients and families who are even harsher.”
Caro’s laughter carries across the bar and we both look to where she’s facing off with Pasha, who is wearing a bright white Navy uniform hat. Who the hell gave him a prop fromTop Gun? Faye watches them with a quiet smile, as if she wishes she could be over there with them, having a lighthearted night out with her friends.
“Do you want to?” I ask.
Her brows crimp together.“Do I want to what?”
“Do you want to have to deal with difficult situations like that?”
“I—” She frowns and worries her bottom lip. “I don’t know how to answer the question. You’re asking do I want to deal with patients and their families?”
I nod.
“As a doctor, you sort of have to. You have to take the good with the bad.”
“What if you didn’t?”
“If I didn’t have to deal with people?”
“Sure.” I shrug.
She shrugs too and laughs with an appraising frown. “Well, sure. If I could just study neuroscience all day and poke around in brains without having to deal with people? It might not be terrible… that actually sounds pretty good.” But she doesn’t look relieved. Or even happy.
“Let me ask you something else,” I say, clearing my throat. “Do you love it?”
“Do I love what?”
“Medicine,” I say, nodding my thanks to the waitress who delivers our cheesy dip. “The study? The practice? Or helping people? Do you love it?”
She picks up a chip and stares at it as if trying to read it. She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head.
“I’ve wanted to be a doctor since I was little.”
“I know.”
“I’ve never wanted anything else.”
