There was a running bet as to whether he would ever smile, with extra odds for whether such an occurrence would render him immediately comatose.
Despite his dedication to work, Jake also seemed to have an active sex life. A different girl, usually from the same class, was seen doing the walk of shame out of his dorm room every morning. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d fucked his way through the entire medical school class— aside from me, of course.
Perhaps because he scored higher than me on every test and assignment, he seemed to look right through me. Like I was below his notice.
It must have been difficult to see us little people from his spot all the way up high on Mount Olympus. Unless he wanted to play doctor with them, of course.
“Zeus” would have been as accurate a nickname for him as “The Iceman.” Not that it stopped him from being super hot, in an infuriating sort of way.
He was tall, dark and handsome, a towering presence no matter where he went. And he exuded a confidence that let people know he was better at everything than they were.
Still, it wasn’t even totally true. Even though he was better at me— and everyone else— at test-taking, I always beat him in practical clinical settings since I had a good bedside manner and he was, well… The Iceman. I’d thought that maybe he was as jealous of my practicum scores as I was at his exam scores, and that that was why he seemed to hate me.
But maybe that was just his general demeanor, and I shouldn’t have taken it personally. I couldn’t help it, though— I despised him.
And it was just my luck that he and I now worked for the same hospital system. And due to the pandemic, we currently even worked in the same E.R., where many patients in the city were being re-routed because it was the biggest one. Although Jake usually worked in the intensive care unit, it was all hands on deck in the E.R. now.
As I finished my run, I told myself to leave the past in the past so that I could concentrate on the present in my mind. But it didn’t make the fact that I’d have to go into work and see my old medical school rival every day for the foreseeable future any more palatable.
Speaking of palatable, a beautiful smell permeated the air as I came back into the apartment. That could only mean one thing.
“Grandma,” I said with a smile, as I entered the kitchen.
“Oh, hello, Dear, good run?” she asked me.
“Yes, it was fine, Grandma. But we talked about this. I do the cooking.”
“I know, Dear. You’re just so busy most of the time, I just thought—”
“Are those crepes?”
“Yes, they are. Your favorite, Dearie.”
Indeed they were my favorite. I didn’t want Grandma to put herself out, but I was grateful. Her crepes were so delicious that I had eaten half of them before she had even made it into a sitting position at the table herself.
Her hips weren’t what they used to be, and Grandma seemed intent on keeping them natural as long as possible. The idea of getting metal ones made her feel a bit too much like a cyborg. She’d read enough classic science fiction to know how that story would end.
“Duty calls?” Grandma asked, as my phone went off.
“So it would seem,” I replied, checking it and confirming that I was needed once again at the E.R.
After wolfing down the rest of the crepe, not wanting it to go to waste, I drained my coffee mug and dashed upstairs to change. I didn’t want to show up to work in my sweaty running clothes.
Once I was properly attired, I hauled ass down to the bus stop, praying that the bus would decide to be on time this morning.
Chapter Two - Jake
The only way I could ever run on a treadmill was with loud music blasting in my headphones, and today was no exception. The thumps beat rhythmically, matching the drumbeat of my heart. It was a sound reminiscent of Zulu Dawn, if a bit less complex.
The rhythm filled my ears, accompanied by melodic guitar riffs and agonized vocals, mimicking the sound of a wailing hell-beast. It kept me on track, even as the platform lifted to put me further up the metaphorical mountain displayed on the small screen.
My legs burned with the fury of a thousand suns as the treadmill slowly lowered back into its original position and things slowed to the halt.
The world was still somewhat spinning around me. Wobbling to the bench, I slugged down some water and did my best to regain equilibrium. In some ways, the scheduling that the hospital was doing to the staff was endurance training— no worse than what I’d already done to myself. These intense treadmill workouts were a habit I’d picked up in medical school.