Chapter 2
The idea was so absurd that I could hardly believe it.
"I want to ask you one thing. Why didn't you go to Seaside University yourself?" I asked.
There was a hint of urgency in his voice. "My parents wouldn't let me."
So that was it. He had parents, and I was the orphan he could push around.
He added, "You going to Seaside University was the best fix I could come up with.
"That way, Jennifer would finally agree to go to Seaside University, since it's close to her place."
When people were so speechless, they laughed.
I let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, what a perfect plan.
"Did you not know Northbridge Medical School was all I ever wanted?
"I had a giant sign taped to my desk that said 'Northbridge Medical School' in huge letters. Were you blind or what?"
When I finished shouting, the line went silent.
It had been a long moment.
"It's over. No use talking about it anymore."
"Let's leave it at that."
I hung up.
What a joke it was.
He crushed my dream and had the nerve to call it his 'perfect plan'.
My mom died giving birth to me.
My dad was a doctor in the countryside.
The clearest memory from my childhood was my dad sitting under the lamp, stethoscope in hand.
He'd often get called out in the middle of the night, and when he came back, his pants would be all muddy.
But he'd always come home smiling and say, "Saved a little one with a fever tonight."
When I was twelve, my dad saved a villager who got poisoned by pesticides. He and Jake Maxwell, the village head, took the patient to the city hospital.
The villager pulled through.
On the way back, it was pouring rain, and the road was slippery.
He slipped and fell down the cliff. He died.
After my dad's funeral, Jake told me I wasn't an orphan. I was one of the village's own.
Everyone in the village pitched in to cover my school fees.
At parent-teacher meetings, all the villagers back home would line up outside the classroom, grinning from ear to ear.
They all knew I was a good student, and they were rooting for me to get into a good college and make something of myself.
Before he passed, my dad always told me, "Natalie, study hard and get into the best medical school."
I always had a note that said "Northbridge Medical School" stuck right there on my desk.
That was my unwavering goal.
I didn't make it to Northbridge Medical School, and I felt guilty toward my dad, and even more so toward the villagers who had raised me.
Jake wanted me to retake the exam, but I was too crushed to try.
When school started, he took me to Seaside University.
My suitcase was packed with all kinds of food the elder villager gave me.
In the four-person dorm, my bed was by the window, and a thin layer of dust was on the windowsill.
"Natalie, right?" The girl on the lower bunk looked up, munching on an apple. "I'm Lucy Harper, a nursing major."
I nodded and started making my bed.
She wasn't put off by my cold attitude. Instead, she leaned in closer.
She said, "Did you hear?
"There's a genius in our department who got a nearly full mark on the SAT. No clue why she ended up at Seaside University."
I patted my pillow and muttered. "Maybe she's an idiot and screwed up her college application."
Lucy looked at me closely, and her eyes widened as she realized. "Wait, you're not that idiot, are you?"
Later, I asked her why she guessed that.
She said I looked like a straight-A student, with that stubborn vibe that made it seem like I could do anything if I set my mind to it.
I scoffed and told her she was way off.
I felt like a failure. I couldn't even fulfill my dad's dying wish.
After that, we became good friends.
It was more satisfying to trash-talk Ethan with someone else.
During the Independence Day holiday, Lucy and I were studying in the library.
Ethan posted a photo on his social media.
He and Jennifer were standing side by side on the ginkgo path at Northbridge University.
She was wearing his jacket, and when she smiled, her eyes curved up like crescents.
The caption said, [Autumn's gorgeous. Hope Jennifer lives a long, happy life.]
I stared at that photo for half an hour, until my phone died and the screen went black.
My pale face stared back at me from the dark screen, and suddenly I realized Jennifer and I had the same blunt bangs.
My stomach churned.
I told myself, "So, looking like her is my original crime.
"Ethan never really liked me. He only liked the version of me that reminded him of Jennifer."
Back in high school, the class representative kept saying that Jennifer and I looked almost identical.
But I was so focused on my goals that I never gave it a second thought.
Looking back, we both had those blunt bangs, similar faces, and always wore the same school uniform.
I heard she was into Taylor Swift, too.
I always hummed songs while doing my homework. Apparently, she did that too.
Ethan used to say Jennifer was like a pale, fragile moon, and I was the bright, lively sun.
She was distant and alone, and I was bursting with energy.
He said we were like two petals of the same flower.
I shrugged it off and didn't even let it get to me.
That night, I had a dream.
I dreamed of the night before the SAT, when Ethan was drawing two little stick figures on a scrap of paper.
"This one's you," he said, pointing at the figure with glasses.
"And this one's me," he said, pointing at the other figure.
The two little stick figures stood hand in hand in front of a big building, and the sign on top said "Northbridge University."
When I woke up, my pillow was soaked with tears.
Days passed by, one after another.
Starting college didn't give me any new courage.
I felt like a lifeless puppet. I was going through the motions, sitting in class, doing experiments, but nothing inside me felt alive anymore.
That day, like every other day, I sat on the rooftop of Seaside University's lab building after class.
I held my dad's stethoscope.
I stared blankly at the students coming and going below, wondering what the point was.
Kevin Parker, the lab manager, came up.
"Hey, kid, come down from there," Kevin said, his voice serious.
I was wrapped up in my own world, ignoring him entirely.
He limped over and plopped down beside me, leaning against the rooftop wall.
"There's nothing in life you can't get over," he said.
He went on, sharing his own story, not caring whether I was listening.
He used to be a brilliant surgeon, a real prodigy.