Nobody Like You

An Almost Explosion

Lia

Professor Victoria Song is a legend in the microbiology field.

Ever since I took her class last semester, I have been in awe of this woman. She moved to the US in the last year of high school, barely scraped by with her grades as a new student, and went to an unknown community college. After she graduated, she got the chance to work for a prominent microbiology professor, and from then on, her achievements skyrocketed—Yale for graduate school, Stanford for postdoctoral research, and now, a full professor at UCLA. Her name pops up all over UCLA's social media sites like a superstar because of her slew of awards and publications.

Best of all, she is an outstanding teacher who cares a lot about her students' education, a rare trait in professors, unfortunately.

"I am where I am today because of what that professor did for me, and so I am paying it back," was what she had said on the first day of class last semester. And she put her one-hundred-and-one percent into teaching us.

She is a legend, and I cannot believe I am speaking to her about joining her lab.

What is even more unbelievable, however, is that Yeju works for her.

Yeju. That annoying woman who made my night hell. That petty apartment mate who drank my milk despite my name written all over it. How is she even a graduate student with that level of maturity?

This is also the first time I am seeing her with a full set of clothes: black jeans and a black tank top. Her signature flower tattoos on her arms are the only color she has in her full-black outfit. Instead of the usual mess, her hair is now combed and tied up in a ponytail just like mine.

She glares at me, not at all hiding her anger. I am furious at myself too. Out of all the research projects Professor Song told me about, I had to choose the one that belongs to Yeju. The project sounded interesting though: developing inhibitors that can prevent bacteria's toxicity without killing them. Or at least, that's what I understood in between all the big words that were said.

"Take a seat, Yeju," Professor Song says, breaking our staring contest.

Yeju complies, but her jaw clenches as though she is stopping herself from yelling at me.

"So Lia here is a talented sophomore who wants to dip her toes into microbiology research." Professor Song waves her hand at me. "She took my lab class last semester and did really well, and she has already completed a bunch of basic microbiology classes. I pitched a few projects to her, and she's the most interested in yours, which is perfect."

This is crazy. One of the coolest professors in the world just called me talented. I should be brimming with joy, but it's hard to feel happy when Yeju is scowling at the table. Her gaze is not directed at me, but I can still feel the jab from her piercing eyes.

There is a slight pause before Professor Song asks, "You wanted an undergrad to help you out with your project, right, Yeju? I remember you requesting for one over the summer."

That seems to jolt Yeju out of her angry trance. "Yeah... Yeah, I do."

The professor lifts her brow. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, no, sorry, Victoria, I'm just... I'm just thinking. There's been an issue with my experiment."

"Anything I have to be concerned about?"

"No. Just some things I have to repeat."

"Well, after you train Lia, she can help you out with some of the stuff you need to do. She says she's very willing to learn."