Karim folded himself back into the apartment, where it sounded like a group had started playing some kind of card game, probably hearts, with some kind of penalty or reward that involved Scotch. I made it a policy never to play with them. It was the surest way to find myself drunk and unhappy within the hour. Not that I was terrible at cards, but I was terrible at drinking stuff like Scotch.
We were lucky—six residents from a variety of medical schools and areas of the country who’d been thrown together and who all got along, as though we’d been instrumental in the selection process. I knew from the stories of some of my medical school classmates that not everyone had been so lucky.
My med school roommate, Shelby, had been selected for a residency program in obstetrics and gynecology in Abilene, Texas, and had not connected with her fellow residents at all. She’d chosen a program at a highly ranked hospital because there was a standout researcher in fertility, which was her future field. She only looked into the attending and their writings and didn’t do much checking into the town where she’d be living, which had a population of one hundred twenty thousand.
Having been raised in New York City, Shelby found Abilene shocking. She was enamored with the attending and her program but less so with her class of doctors, connecting with one fellow resident in urology but no one in her program. One of them, Mehrdad, had a wife and two kids under the age of four, so he was rarely available to socialize outside of rounds and shifts at the hospital.
“His wife cooked a six-course Persian feast for all of us, eight months pregnant. Seriously, she looked so uncomfortable,” Shelby told me. “I tried to help her in the kitchen, but she wouldn’t hear of it, and he looked at me like I’d offended decorum.”
“That’s just awkward,” I said.
“The other two residents didn’t help the situation. Miguel just drank a lot and told inappropriate stories, and Sasha laughed at him because she’s completely socially awkward and also, like, seventeen years old because she’s a genius prodigy.”
I had nothing to say to that. And I felt a little guilty that I had it so much better with my residency friends. Even the one who flirted and never followed through.
Because life was strange that way, Shelby had known Maddox before I did. They’d gone to college together and had stayed friendly. She implied he was someone I’d definitely want to get to know. “Put it this way. He was the last guy I fucked before I started dating women,” she told me the last time we talked.
“This sounds like a story I need to hear.”
“No stories. Just stating a fact.”
“There’s always a story.”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll share mine when you share yours. It’s bound to happen.”
I’d assured her that it never would. “We’re good friends, but that’s all it will ever be.”
“It’s a good thing you’re a brilliant diagnostician, because you’d make a shitty lawyer. I call bullshit. That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”
I held my ground, but the closer we came to finishing our program, the more I knew I wasn’t just lying to Shelby about what I wanted. I was lying to myself. Maddox was completely wrong for me and after resisting my feelings, I was my back to college self, and she wanted the hot guy who’d end up being no good. She still hadn’t learned.