"Alright, class. I know some of you have been excited for this while others have been dreading it. Today, we start our cadavers research lab. You and your partner will each be assigned a cadaver and will work through a series of assignments that explore the human body firsthand," our professor said.
His teaching assistants wheeled sheet-covered gurneys into the lab as he spoke. Bella was already taking notes, but a buzzing had started in my ears and I could not hear what else the professor was saying.
One by one, the pairs of nursing students were uncovering their cadavers and taking initial observations. Ours arrived and was lifted onto the stainless steel table. Bella grabbed the sheet and peeled it back.
I saw blonde hair, the ashen gray forehead, and the lab exploded around me. Somewhere in the buzzing blare of light, I heard someone screaming. It was me.
"Quinn! Quinn! Are you alright?" Bella had me in a tight hug. I was sobbing against her shoulder. The floor slowly stopped undulating.
I stood up, shaking, and peeked over her shoulder. The cadaver was an old woman with white hair. She had to be at least 80 years old.
"I'm sorry," I said in a hoarse voice. "I don't feel well."
The professor tried to catch me, but I ran from the room. I could not sprint down the halls fast enough, and almost fell racing down the stairs. When I made it outside, I did not stop running. Tears streamed down my face as I ran blindly back to my dorm room.
"Quinn? Oh my God, Quinn, what happened?"
Owen's strong arms came out of nowhere and caught me up in an all-encompassing hug. I clung to him, the sobs ripping out of my chest again.
"Please, please tell me what happened. Are you alright?" He spoke against my hair, his body still wrapped protectively around me. "You're scaring me."
"I got scared, that's all," I said. "We started on the cadavers today. So gray."
He pulled me over to a bench and cradled me in his arms. When I could finally take a deep breath, I sat up in his lap. "I'm sorry," I said.
"Nothing to be sorry about. Maybe this just goes on the con list for nursing as a career," Owen said.
A laugh burst out and surprised us both.
"Wait, what are you doing here?" I asked.
"I'm not stalking you. I swear," Owen said. He helped me to my feet and stood up. "I was here to talk to one of the computer programming classes."
"Sure," I said. My legs felt shaky and ruined the teasing.
"And then I decided to see if you were around. So, yes, I guess it turned into stalking," Owen said. "I'm sorry about the other night at the party."
"What about it?" I asked, my heart aching.
"You thought I was flirting with that redhead. I was really just passing the time until you were free," he said.
"Really?"
"Whoa, hang in there," Owen reached out to steady me. "You know, Quinn, it’s possible that you have PTSD. Maybe you should go lay down for a while."
"No, please, I need to get off campus," I said.
"UCLA got me a hotel room in town," Owen said.
I headed towards the parking lot. He caught up with me after a few steps and wrapped his arm tightly around me. I was glad, as my legs still felt wobbly. Now that the terrifying episode had passed, the adrenaline was kicking in, and I felt electrified.
When we got inside Owen's hotel room, he went straight to the minibar and cracked open a small bottle of scotch. "Here. This will help calm your nerves. You look a little jumpy. Adrenaline?"
"I don't know," I said. "What, do you think I'm a nursing student or something?"
Owen laughed and flopped down in the armchair. He put his feet up on the bed, leaving me the rest of the king-sized mattress to spread out on. I used all the extra pillows to create a nest and settled in with the little bottle of scotch.
"No," he said. "Maybe not a nursing student today. How about a chef?"