Hours later, I left Logan’s office shaken and furious. He needed an explanation, hinting that I was in trouble after a conversation he’d had with Nick earlier. Miraculously, I was able to convince him that I hadn’t plagiarized my work. By the time I got back to my dorm room, I was in tears. The realization of how close I’d come to losing everything I’d worked for had my knees buckling. Nick called a few more times, but I silenced my phone and fell asleep sobbing.
Logan said I could work independently on the project to finish it up since we were so close, and I didn’t want to work with Nick anymore. I prayed that I could pass and my GPA would not be affected.
Nick had betrayed me by not waiting to confront Logan together. I finally texted him to stop trying to reach me. I didn’t want anything to do with him.
When Lucy, my classmate who had warned me about him, saw that we were no longer partners, she mouthed ‘I told you’ when she saw me again. I feared that the plagiarism accusation had gotten out, and people were talking about me behind my back. It was traumatizing. Part of me knew I may not have been completely fair to Nick, but I couldn’t help it.
There was no way we’d ever be friends again.
CHAPTER SIX
Nikolas
Nine Years Earlier UC San Diego
I don’t thinkI’d ever been this sick. Why I listened to that ridiculous dorm mate of mine, I’ll never know. When I got back at 2:00 am, he was still up playing video games and offered me one of his burritos. It was out of pure desperation that I accepted his offer.
I guess I could chalk this up as my one and only college story of puking my guts out, even though it wasn’t alcohol-induced. Marvin made himself scarce this morning after hearing me moan and retch in the bathroom all night.
I’d never missed a class. Ever. Knowing I missed one that Leyla was in just made it all the worse. When I got up this morning, my dry mouth felt like I’d licked all of Marvin’s Cheetos(shudder).I checked my phone and saw I’d missed an email alert from Leyla that I answered, telling her I thought I had a stomach bug, too embarrassed to tell her about the dreaded burrito. Moaning, I walked (aka crawled) to my tiny refrigerator and slugged down a whole bottle of water.
When the phone rang, I lunged for it, hoping it was her. Smiling when I saw my mother’s name, I answered it.
“Hey, Mom.” I tried to hide the pain I was in.
“It still surprises me after all this time when you say that instead of ‘anne’ and ‘baba’,” she said lovingly. She accepted that I stopped calling them the Turkish version of mom and dad when I was in high school, as another way to fit in, and it just stuck.
“I can go back to calling you anne whenever you want.”
“Hmm, no, I like it now,” she teased. “Dad’s here, too, somewhere. He had the day off.”
I tried to laugh, but it came out like a grunt. “How are you guys?”
She paused, and I knew what was going to happen. “I think I should be asking you that, Niko. What’s wrong? Need me to bring you some tavuk suyu? Is it a cold or something else? I know you’re sick.” I never could get anything past her. She always told me God had given her a strong mother’s intuition. And eyes in the back of her head. Dad just chuckled in the background.
“You seem to forget that you live eight hours from me now,” I chuckled. “But I wish you were near enough to make your famous chicken broth soup. If you were, I’d have you make the spiciest cig kofte to feed to my dorm mate who gave me bad food last night. But I’ll feel better soon. Don’t worry.”
She laughed. “Do you think he would actually eat meatballs shaped like a football?”
“If it’s free, he wouldn’t even hesitate. I’m going to go see what I get down. My stomach is growling, but I’m not sure if I want to risk it.”
“I don’t like being this far from you, son, but your father is doing so well at his new sales job. Please take care of yourself. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom. Love you, Dad. So proud of you.”
“Love you too, son. Feel better soon,” he called out.
I was still contemplating putting something in my stomach when my phone pinged with another school email alert.
Frowning, I read the email twice. It was from Professor Logan’s TA, Garrett, asking me for more documentation on something Leyla had submitted during a lab audit that morning. I had no idea what he was talking about until I opened the attachment.
My stomach was still threatening to empty whatever contents were left from my childhood, so I wouldn’t make it to the lab anytime soon to find out. I quickly emailed Leyla, asking about the notes, but after an hour with no answer, I slid to the floor and pulled out my laptop, forcing down a few crackers.
As I looked over the notes the TA emailed me, it seemed like Leyla had found a possible solution to the serum instability.
Different pH window. Stabilizer failed. Tested Acrylates/C10-30. Change order of additions. Serum stable. Found possible solution.
Her disjointed notes were dated yesterday, but that made no sense. We’d worked together until almost 8:00 last night. Did she find this before we met or after I left for work? I scratched my head, wondering why she hadn’t mentioned it. It didn’t seem like her to turn in a possible solution without me, even though we were in direct competition in our other classes.
