Page 67 of Forbidden Professor

Like, if you’re at the doctor and they want to let you know a test turned out negative, nobody calls you. They send you a message through your e-chart. But if you’re fucked and have some terrible terminal disease?

Oh, no, they’re going to need you to come in. That’s how it works in the movies, right? That’s how it worked with my mother.

Misery washes over me as I think about the day she’d gotten the news she had been diagnosed with uterine cancer. I think she already knew, deep down inside. She came out of the doctor’s office to face my father who was waiting in the waiting room with me and I knew before she said a word, just by the look on her face.

Of course, nobody would deliver that news in person.

If she’d been free and clear, they’d have told her over the phone or email while she sat celebrating in her kitchen.

I couldn’t shake the fear that this meeting was similar.

The email had been short and simple, with no hints to examine, unfortunately. I vow as I sit there, to never keep my patients waiting or guessing like this. If I ever become a doctor, that is.

I can’t help but imagine my future at that moment.

If my financial aid doesn’t go through, then I will be tied to my father forever if I want to remain in med school. I want to kick myself for not applying for financial aid sooner. At this late date, the offerings would be slim and my chances were even slimmer of being the recipient of any relief.

I can’t help but wish my father wasn’t so controlling. If only he could accept that I was an adult who needed his help and support, not some possession that needed to prove their worthiness to receive that support.

He’s my father, for fuck’s sake. He should be tender and loving. Instead he was a downright tyrant.

When Clarissa finally walks in, I was deep in the darkness of impending doom.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” she says, as she sits down across from me and plops down a huge office file with my name on it.

“You are?” I ask, eyeing her suspiciously. She looks happy, but I’m hesitant to trust my perceptions at this point. Maybe she’s just being kind, softening the blow, so to speak, before she annihilates any sense of a chance at being independent.

“Yes,” she continues. “I think you’re going to be quite pleased, Eve.”

My heart skips a beat at the sound of her words, the excitement in her eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, everything came through. All of it. You got everything you applied for, Eve! Isn’t that wonderful?” She cries.

I’m stunned.

“Everything?” I ask, unable to even remember what the hell everything consisted of.

“Yes, look,” she says, thankfully opening the file and sliding some papers across the desk to me. I struggle to make sense of it all. “You received almost a full ride for everything. Tuition and books, ninety percent covered. The rest you can easily take out a loan for. You don’t have to worry about it for another second, Eve.”

“I don’t understand. How did this happen? I thought I was applying for loans mostly.”

“Honestly? I think it was your essay. I took the liberty of making a few copies and applying for several other scholarships that I knew might be a long shot. But one of them came through. It’s a private scholarship from a wealthy donor. They were so impressed with your dedication to become a doctor because of your mother’s death, and your ability to express such empathy in the wake of it, instead of being bitter. They love that you turned something so incredibly traumatic into a healing event.”

“Wow,” I whisper, completely taken aback.

“And that’s not all,” she says. “I also got you a work study job, if you’re interested. It’s not much, just in the chemistry lab cleaning and scheduling and helping Professor Saman. I think you’ll like her. But it will help with expenses, and you get paid real money, not just a meal plan, or whatever.”

“That’s amazing, Clarissa, thank you,” I say, my eyes welling up with tears.

“It’s my pleasure, Eve. I’m so happy I could help you. This is the part of my job that I love so much. You’re a wonderful woman, Eve, and you’ve been dealt a shitty hand.”

“Oh, Clarissa,” I say, openly weeping now. The relief is immense. “How can I ever repay you?”

“Just go do something incredible for me, okay? I have no doubt you’re going to contribute greatly to the world of medicine.”

“I will,” I promise, standing up and going over to hug her. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

---