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˚₊‧Charlotte Elise as Ava Norris‧₊˚

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I was awake around eight in the morning on Monday, preparing for my classes that day and reading through my Psychology syllabus. Out of all of my courses, it was the one I looked forward to the most because it was the only subject directly related to my dream job—neurosurgery.

"Special research opportunity worth ten points to final grade..." I read off the syllabus, perking up as I nursed a mug of hazelnut coffee.

"So. Now that you speak..." Nash began, sifting through an acre of clothes in his closet. "What's your major?"

I set down my mug. "Biochemistry. I'm pre-med."

"I knew you were a dork." I couldn't be offended by that. He sent me the tiniest smile, but it still had my heart skipping several beats. Sacrificing my journal was worth it.

"You?" I asked.

"Criminal justice."

Interesting. "Oh. Cop?"

He made a face, scrunching his nose as he tugged on a pair of black pants. "Private investigator."

"What specialty?"

It took a minute for him to answer. He was probably deciding if he wanted to share. He paused, eyes falling to the ground. "Missing persons."

Okay, that had to be personal. I decided to be a decent human being and not pry. "Neurosurgery for me."

Nash whistled. "That's like, giga nerd at this point. I wonder how you'll top that."

I giggled despite myself.

He grabbed his phone and stood in front of his slim, full-length mirror. He didn't make a show of posing, but he snapped a bunch of photos of himself. Maybe ten or so.

Tapping away on his phone, he made for the door. "You're way too shy for medicine, especially surgery. It's so cutthroat. I'd pick something easier if I were you." And in seconds, he was gone.

I bit the inside of my cheek. I knew I shouldn't think too deep into it, but his statement left a pang in my chest. Ever since I was young, I'd dreamed of having a medical career, and Nash wasn't the first person who doubted that I could do it. Honestly, I doubted myself too. Yes, I was shy. Yes, I let people walk all over me. I wasn't confident. I didn't know who I was.

But I'd been at rock bottom before. And the thing about being at your lowest, was that there was only one place to go from there: Up.

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Thankfully, my class wasn't too far from my dorm. It was situated in a teaching theater, so there were about seventy students if I had to guess. I hoped there'd be less of us, but that was just the introvert in me talking.

"Please swipe your student ID card as you enter!" I heard the professor call out, but I wasn't paying much attention. This was my very first college class. There were bound to be nerves. My entire body went stiff as I searched for a good seat. I remembered that my father advised me to sit in the first couple of rows because that would urge me to pay attention. Also, he said a person who sat up front was less likely to cheat during an assessment and more likely to pass. Not that I ever needed to resort to cheating.

It was good enough advice though, so I decided to take it. I sat at the edge of the second row. That put me right next to the aisle in case I needed to escape.

A girl rushed in and swung herself into the empty seat next to me, almost knocking the wind out of me. She snapped her head in my direction.

"I'm so sorry. I just had to get a close seat!"

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