A Brush with Love(62)
“The shower was good, thanks.” He shot her a cheeky grin and she batted his shoulder.
“How was cadaver?”
He shrugged, his teasing replaced with sheepishness. “It was kind of tough, to be honest—for me at least. I couldn’t quite get past it being a person, you know? It’s weird to be in a room with a dozen dead bodies and disassociate from the fact that they were once … people.”
Harper nodded. Cadaver lab was a huge privilege for health professionals to learn from, but that didn’t stop it from also turning her stomach.
“I had a hard time with it too.”
Dan’s eyes perked up. “Yeah? So I’m not a massive wimp?”
“Not because of cadaver at least. Other parts of you…” she teased, and he gave her earlobe a playful tug that set her heart racing.
Harper was starting to feel like her body was one giant pleasure nerve that only required Dan to take a deep enough breath before going off like a bomb, but her physiology textbook lacked a chapter called “Super Horny Girls Practicing Self-Denial,” so she didn’t have the science to back her up.
“But you felt weird about it too?” Dan asked earnestly.
“Oh, for sure. It’s a really bizarre experience. You’re there to learn and understand the body better, but it feels wrong to separate that from the actual human that was in there. You can’t help but wonder who the person was … It reminded me of my mom’s death, I think.”
It felt like an anvil dropped in her gut and she scrambled to put a source to that admission. That was a thought she’d refused to even give form to in her own mind during cadaver—something that had lurked the whole time she dissected and analyzed the anonymous body on a table.
She waited for the sharp feelings and onslaught of pain that usually accompanied such clear thoughts of her mom, but they didn’t hit her. The words had left her brain, traveled out of her mouth and into Dan’s ears, and she didn’t fall apart. She didn’t break.
And she wasn’t sure what to make of that.
She looked at Dan and saw the reflection of her surprise in his eyes. She also saw the moment he gingerly took her piece of honesty and cradled it in his mind. He nodded gently, telling her without words that he’d treat that piece of her delicately and with respect. No poking or prodding or nagging for it to be more. Just allowing it to be a small moment of her vulnerability that they now shared.
“The smell really freaked me out too,” he said slowly, and Harper wanted to thank him on her knees for his willingness to move on.
“Ugh, yeah. It smelled like old sausage sandwiches left out in the sun. So gross,” she said a little too loudly, but her shoulders relaxed a fraction.
“Right? Alex said he liked the smell. I think I need to move out after hearing that.”
Harper made a gagging face. “So he’s your class psychopath. Every year’s got one.”
Dan barked out a laugh. “Yeah? Who’s yours?”
“Thu. She said the lymph nodes looked like berries and pretended to pop one in her mouth. I wanted to throttle her. Maybe we need new friends,” Harper said with a laugh.
“At least we have each other.”
Harper’s smile fell and she shifted in her chair. Too close. This is getting too close.
She turned to her textbook and, after a moment, Dan did the same.
Harper lost herself in her notes for a while, slipping into that trance-like state where the various pieces start to click together into the bigger picture, when Dan’s hand slammed on the table.
“Fuck!” His voice echoed sharply around the room and it made Harper jump. He fisted his hands in his hair, then scrubbed them over his face, hiding his eyes.
“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice harsh and raw. Harper instinctively moved her hands onto him, as if to absorb his pain so he wouldn’t have to suffer.
“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?” she asked, tugging at his arm so she could see his face. He didn’t budge. “Dan.”
“I don’t get any of this, Harps. I’m not an idiot, I swear I’m not, but I don’t get it. None of it makes sense and it’s so much detail and I can’t do it,” he said hoarsely, his voice drenched in embarrassment.
“What class is it? Let me help you.”
He let out a humorless laugh. “It isn’t just this class. It’s all of them. It’s cadaver. And pharmacology. Neurology. Metabolism. Osteology. I’m fucking it all up. I’m failing so fucking royally it’s almost funny.” He let out a shaky breath. “And it isn’t even just school. I feel like I’m failing life. I feel like I’m doing it all completely wrong.”
Harper wanted to grab him. Reach into him and stop the hurt. She didn’t feel like she was doing life wrong, necessarily, but she could never shake the feeling that she was one step away from ruining it. She felt constantly out of control, her body always in a spiral of panic. It was like she only half lived in order to survive. Fully flinging herself into life would certainly be the death of her.
“Do you know why I’m even here?” Dan asked suddenly. “Pursuing this stupid degree?”
“No, I don’t,” Harper said, placing her hand on his thigh. “Tell me.”
“I’m here because my mom asked me to be. Demanded I be. She said it was my duty to help her run the practice after my dad died. And I just went with it. Isn’t that pathetic?” he said, looking at her now. “I never wanted this. I resisted it for so long. I never wanted to be a doctor. I never had the drive. It just isn’t me. But then my mom completely lost it, and here I am. Being dragged under by this sense of guilt and duty and bullshit.”