Silently, I get undressed and onto the heated table next to hers. Maybe she’s asleep.
No such luck.
She asks, “How did your meeting with Dr. Subramanyam go?”
She knows that I know that she knows.
Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath, and bravely walk the plank. “Not well. He suggested I find a new subject and start over.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following you, dear.” She sighs and hums as the young stud, Dieter, goes to work on her lower back.
There’s no easy way to say it but at least she’s relaxed. “I may not get my doctorate this year.”
“That’s what has you so upset? You’re so overly-dramatic. You’re either up or down, nothing in between. What does it matter? You can marry someone, have babies, and start your real life.” Sighing, she turns while Dieter eyes me sympathetically.
I shake my head while a woman, Alicia works the knots out of my back. They’re getting worse, not better, as I speak with my mom.
“Go apologize to Gerard. Everyone knows you were meant for each other, so much better than that married man. What was his name? Alan? The married one who dumped you?”
I’m surprised that neither the two masseuses nor my mother hear my patience snap.
Pulling the blanket to my chin, I sit up. “Mother, for once in my life, would you listen?”
Despite my shrill tone, Mom doesn’t flinch. “Are you PMS’ing? We’ve talked about this. They have wonderful new hormone therapy–”
“Fuck it, mom. This is serious. I’m about to get kicked out of MIT!” Ten years of pent up anger erupt. I picture cartoon me with smoke and steam erupting out of the top of my head.
“You’re upset. Let me make an appointment with Dr. Orwell.”
Her shrink?Fuming, I throw on my clothes and, on the way, out, point at the receptionist. “Shut it.”
In one respect, my mother is right, I have no one to talk to. I’ve spent most of the last five years in front of a monitor, researching, or in a classroom. Other than Gerard, I have no friends.
In high school, the girls were mean and I gave up trying to fit in. Instead, I buried myself in my studies and got a part-time job. In college, I tried again to make friends. Some girls tried to get me to party and skip classes. Nicer ones wanted me to watch insipid movies or dance to loud music with unintelligible lyrics.
Shit. Not only am I a failure at my doctorate, I’m a failure as a daughter and a huge failure as a human being.
Usually, I do my best thinking on my feet so I walk. Somehow, I need to find the courage to open the thumb drive and look over Doctor Subra’s notes. Maybe, he’s the one who’s over his head. It wouldn’t be the first time I surpassed a teacher. Perhaps, I can bounce some more thoughts off from Yuri. He seems knowledgeable enough. If not, he might know someone who knows someone. Obviously, Gerard isn’t going to be much help. He said I just had a few math errors.
As if holding an envelope of Anthrax instead of a plastic thumb drive, I stare, still unable to open it. However, I can’t put this off much longer. Eventually, I’ll need to see how bad it is, just not yet.
