Chapter 10:

#AnatomyLab

8:23 a.m., twenty minutes later

I sprinted down the empty hallway toward Room 505.

The lab had both a front and back entrance.

Still rattled from this morning, I gripped the back door’s knob with shaky fingers and whispered a silent prayer that it was unlocked.

Please let me slip in unnoticed.

Thank goodness Cam’s my TA—I’ll explain the whole situation with Herbie after lab.

After quietly shutting the door behind me, I scanned the room for Madison. I’d texted Madison to save me a seat. She was in the back row, and I slipped in beside her. Most students were still getting acquainted with their animal dissection tools, and the TA had his back turned. I glanced up at him, feeling a twinge of confusion. That doesn’t look like Cam. 

“Hey, thanks for saving me a seat,” I whispered to Madison, opening my textbook.

“Of course. It’s the least I can do. Sorry about your car…and on the first day of the biology lab, too. But don’t worry, you didn’t miss much. The TA was just going over the basics—”

“Miss De Sangue.” The TA’s voice boomed across the room without him even turning around. “Since you had the luxury of arriving at my class twenty-five minutes late, why don’t you answer the first question.”

That voice—it was familiar, but rougher than I remembered. Like an instrument that hadn’t been played in a while, the sound cracked around the edges. Slowly, he turned to face the class, but he didn’t make eye contact with me.

My heart raced as memories flooded in. It was him, unmistakably. The way I’d always remembered, but with slight differences. His chiseled jawline now had a light stubble. The glint in his right eye was more crystalline, and the curve of his left lip…still perfect. Oh God. It was Parker.

My stomach flipped, and a sour taste rose in my throat. My fingertips trembled beneath the table, and I tightly clasped my hands, trying to steady them. I wanted to run, but I felt the weight of the stares from everyone around me. Why isn’t he in Boston?

The last time I’d seen him was the night before graduation–before disappearing without a trace. 

He turned fully now, standing beneath a giant display of hand bones, looming like a Halloween decoration. It had been over a year since we’d spoken. I’d wanted to reach out to him countless times, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He had always seen me in a better light than I saw myself, and I had tarnished that.

As I looked at his face, I searched for any trace of emotion. He’s got to despise me. If I were him, I would. But there was no emotion at all—his face was cold, his eyes icy, displaying only bored disinterest. Like he had to reprimand a petulant child. Is this hate? Or indifference?

“Can anyone name all the bones in the picture behind me?” His gaze swept the room, still refusing to land on mine. “I know we haven’t covered this chapter yet, but I expect my students to read ahead.”

His tone was clipped, but it was his expression that knocked the wind out of me—cold, unreadable.

Not the Parker I remembered.

The air thinned.

I froze, like a boxer floored mid-fight, the referee counting down... ten... nine…

My mind scrambled, clawing for coherence, for something—anything—I could say.

Without thinking, I blurted out, “Some Lovers Try Positions They Can’t Handle.” Oh no, what did I just say?

Laughter erupted throughout the class. Madison kicked me under the table.

“Excuse me?” Parker said, his face still devoid of expression, eyes never meeting mine.

“It’s a mnemonic,” I stammered, desperately trying to keep my composure. “Some—Scaphoid, Lovers—Lunate, Try—Triquetrum, Positions—Pisiform, They—Trapezium, Can’t—Capitate, Handle—Hamate.” My face flushed as I realized the awkwardness of my response.“I’m sure you know it well.” As soon as I said it, I wanted to eat my own tongue.

A silence fell over the room.

“The mnemonic, I mean,” I corrected myself, my face now crimson.

The class burst into laughter once again, echoing off the walls.

Parker’s expression didn’t change. Not even a flicker.

“So you rely on mnemonics to remember things,” he said coolly. “Seems like you have a habit of forgetting things that matter.” His voice cold, he turned back to the display on the screen. “I expect everyone to memorize all the bones in the hands, arms, and shoulders by the end of the week. You’ll have a quiz on Friday.”

Love and hate are circular—a saying I’d once heard from a woman at the Indonesian monastery popped into my head. I’d spent most of high school wondering if Parker had loved me. Now, I was certain he hated me. At least, I hoped it was hate. Hate was better than indifference. Indifference meant he no longer cared.

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