“Why do you hate me so much?”
I look down, meeting his eyes again after a protracted moment. A clock ticks loudly on the wall. So much for changing tack. I guess I can’t hide how I feel about him. “I heard you talking to Dr. Planck. About me, I mean. And how I’ve been awful to work with, and you might tell the med school faculty. So, that’s one reason.”
His eyes widen. “I’m sorry you heard that. You have to know how testy you’ve been with me, though.”
“So your first thought is to go tattle on me to my future associates?”
He throws his hands up. “No, my first thought was to try and be nice to you! But that wasn’t working.”
I purse my lips. Damn it. “Sorry.” The word burns leaving my mouth. “I’ll do better.”
“That’s okay. I’m sure it’s not personal?—”
“No. It is personal.”
He blanches. “Okay. Wow. So you do hate me then?”
“Hate is a strong word,” I say.
“Ouch.” He clutches some of his notes in his hand like he’s thinking about crumpling them up. “Well, there was clearly something I said or did. I would love to know what it is.”
The whir of the air conditioner startles me in the silence. “Is it bothering you that much?”
“I don’t know.” He studies me. “I like getting along with the people I have to work with. And forgive me, but this makes no sense at all.”
My eyebrows lift. “You sure you weren’t looking for a hook up or something?”
“Jesus.” He barks a laugh. “You say whatever’s in your head, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” I smile despite the tension. “It’s a big problem for me.”
He leans back in his conference room chair. His scrubs hug his thighs as he spreads his knees apart. “No, I’m not looking for a hook up. I don’t do that with coworkers, anyway.”
The way he scans my body again undermines his point, but I don’t call him on it.
“Okay.” I nod. “We can keep working on our project. For right now, I’ll try to be more pleasant at work. Just, please don’t call any of the med school faculty.” My heart twists. Now I sound like I’m begging. This isn’t going how I planned.
“I won’t.” His lips kick up on one side. “Even though this is patently ridiculous.”
I shrug, but my chest burns. I’m swinging between hate, indifference, and grudging respect like a monkey grabbing vines.
“Fine.” He sighs. “I’m done trying.”
My emotional state continues to lurch violently from one extreme to the other throughout our morning at the clinic. Grant keeps cutting off my attempts at hostility at the knees. Either he’s matured, which is entirely possible, I suppose, or he is very good at faking it, which also seems plausible. My hate keeps slipping through my fingers, though, and I’m disappointed in myself that it only takes a few pleasant words to dull the edges of my dislike.
The end of this three months can’t come soon enough.
5
GRANT
“I’m going out tonight. I think you should come.”
Adam adjusts the collar of his neon-pink polo shirt. He’s pulled his long hair up.
I laugh before catching his expression. “Wait. Are you serious? Uh, no. I’m beat.”
It’s another Friday night, the third week of August, and yet another weekend that has arrived in a haze of exhaustion. My rotation’s going well, though I’m still no closer to figuring out Kendall’s deal. I’m awed by her clear brilliance and set on edge by her dislike of me, all at the same time.
