Unethical Page 20

  If I had a mic, this would be where I dropped it and breezed out of the room while brat-pack eighties music played in the background. Unfortunately, I had none of that. Just a whole class staring at me like I had come down with SARS, leprosy, and Ebola all rolled into one.

  I may have lost my chance at Drexler’s med school and the love of my life, but I at least could say I wasn’t a coward.

  Andrew’s jaw hung slack as he stared at me with wide eyes. Yeah, screw you, asshole. I glared at him and turned to leave, unwilling to sit through the rest of the debates and be gawked at like some circus freak show. Instead, I gave one last pleading look to Blake and strolled through the double doors for the last time— Well, second to last time, if I counted the final exam.

  As soon as my feet hit the pavement of the quad, I breathed a shaky sigh of relief. My body trembled as the adrenaline rush made a drastic cutoff. I had done it. I outed myself in front of someone who decided my future. I no longer had a drug dealer holding dirt over my head, and I stuck up for the one person who deserved it most.

  A hand landed on my shoulder, and my yelp echoed through the quad.

  “That was amazing.” Blake squeezed my arm, and then pulled his hand back, shoving both hands into his hoodie.

  “Thanks.” I didn’t think he’d come after me—not when he had ignored me for a week.

  He frowned and scuffed his shoe across the pavement. “Well, I guess I’d better get back in.” He turned in the direction of the classroom.

  That’s it? He just wanted to tell me I did a good job? No. I couldn’t leave it at this, not with all we had been through. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward me. “Why didn’t you return my calls?” I demanded.

  “Give me one reason I should have. You told me that I was smothering you, that I was holding you back. You got what you wanted, Payton. I won’t suffocate you anymore.”

  Goose bumps cascaded down my arms as my words were shoved back in my face. No chance he would ever forgive me. “I didn’t mean those things.”

  “Then why did you say them?” The hurt in his eyes started a rush of hot tears that blurred my vision.

  “Because I was scared.” Sadly, most of my adult life had been dictated by fear.

  “Is this going to be a habit? You get scared and leave?”

  “No, things have changed.”

  “Things have changed,” he echoed, his voice dripping of sarcasm. “Words can only go so far, Payton. When you left again, something inside me broke. Then, when you didn’t show up to court, that was the final straw. I tried giving you another chance, but you weren’t there to take it.”

  “I was there!” I shrieked, and people around us slowed down and stared. “I came back for you, Blake.” Pointing to the classroom, I said, “I just threw away a chance at Drexler because I want to live my life with you. No hiding, no fear, just us.”

  “How do I know you won’t run away again?”

  “Because I’m here.” My knees wobbled, and my whole world grew fuzzy around the edges. “I love you. And I know it’s asking a lot, but if you could just give me another chance, I’ll show you I’ve changed.” I couldn’t be any clearer. This was me pushing past the fear, and holy shit was it scary.

  He glared down and me, and I couldn’t take any more. I turned toward the direction of my car, people still gaping at our public meltdown. It was over, and I needed to face the fact that Blake no longer wanted me.

  Tears soaked my cheeks, and I worked at controlling my breathing long enough to make it to the car. I had made it through half of the quad when a strong hand grasped my arm and spun me around.

  “I have always loved you. I don’t think I could stop if I tried.” Blake enveloped me in a hug, crushing his mouth to mine, pouring love into every crevice of my body.

  I pulled away from him. “Does this mean you’ll give me another chance?”

  He pushed my hair behind my ear and answered me with another kiss.

  Blake pulled me into a hug as I got out of my car.

  “I can’t breathe.” My voice came out muffled as I talked into his jacket.

  “Sorry, I’m just so happy to have you back.”

  “Me, too.”

  “C’mon, let’s do our shift, and then we can go home and I’ll show you just how much I missed you.”

  The dull ache between my legs had me wanting to go back to the house right now, but I still needed to be a good intern, even if I’d ruined my chances at Drexler. “Sounds good.”

  Brittany had Blake run an errand on the fifth floor and sent me to work in the supply closet near the nurses’ station. I didn’t mind working by myself tonight. I might have been alone then, but the swell in my heart let me know I wouldn’t be alone for the rest of my life.

  I was bent over, picking up a pack of bandages from the floor when I smelled him. I didn’t even have to turn around to confirm. No one besides middle-school boys wore that much cologne. The pungent scent drifted into the supply closet like it was blasted in with a leaf blower.

  Straight out of an Abercrombie magazine, Andrew had the collar popped on his pink polo. He leaned against the doorway, blocking any chance at a dash for the exit.

  “That was pretty ballsy, bitch.” Andrew’s words sliced through me like a scalpel. It was way different when Jules called me a bitch; she meant it lovingly, whereas Andrew was just being an ass. Why was he here? Upset that I totally owned him in the debate? Pissed about losing Jules as a customer?

  “Excuse me?”

  His arms shook, and the feral glint in his eyes hinted he was hyped up on something stronger than Adderall. “You really wanted to fuck up your chances of getting into med school, didn’t you? Guess what? Congratulations! I didn’t even need to say anything. You did it all by yourself.”

  I sighed. Was this guy for real? “Why are you here?”

  It wouldn’t be too long before a nurse came back to the station. Someone had to be coming soon, right?

  “Just making sure you hold up your end of the bargain.” His sneer matched his heart—pure evil. And he was going to be dispensing pills to people. Completely disturbing. All he cared about was saving his own ass now that he had nothing to hold over my head.

  I planted my feet to the linoleum, my blood simmering. The nerve of this guy, coming in here and talking to me like this. “You got my best friend addicted to drugs! Why should I do anything for you?” I screamed.

  He laughed. “She was weak.”

  Dots swarmed in my eyes, and my breath came out in jagged huffs. I didn’t know whether I wanted to knee him in the balls, scream at him, or a little bit of both, but two things happened at once. First, Blake came running around the corner, barreled past Andrew, and shielded me. Second, Dr. Centafont stood in the doorway of an exam room down the hall, shaking his head. I didn’t know how long he had been there, but from the grim expression on his face, I assumed he had heard enough.

  “Andrew James, get your ass in here right now.” His hushed tone was laced with a threatening edge that scared the crap out of me, and I wasn’t even his intended victim.

  Andrew shot me a look, and his shoulders slumped as he walked toward his father, like a little kid being sent to his room.

  Dr. Centafont followed Andrew into the exam room and shut the door behind him. He always came off as a pretty docile person, but the murderous glare he gave his son a few moments ago had me worried for Andrew’s safety.

  Blake put his hand on my shoulder and rubbed his thumb along the hem of my collar. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. But I think he’s hyped up on something.”

  “I don’t think that was Adderall.”

  “Neither do I.” I let out a shaky breath and turned to him. “What do you think is gonna happen?”

  “I have no clue. Depends on if he’s willing to brush this under the rug. He has to know how he’s getting all that Adderall.”

  I nodded and stared at the exam room, waiting to hear something, maybe a shout or scr
eam, but there was nothing. Nothing seemed a whole lot scarier than yelling. Brittany came back to the nurses’ station and looked from me to Blake. “Who died?”

  “Huh?”

  “You both look like you just saw a ghost or something.”

  I said, “It’s just been a long day.” A very long day.

  “Could you both go to the fifth floor? They need some people to help restock their station.”

  “Sure.”

  We both walked to the elevator. The doors had just about closed when a hand pushed them open. Other than blotchy cheeks, Dr. Centafont had transformed back to his usual calm demeanor.

  “May I speak with you for a minute, Payton?”

  Blood pounded in my ears as I looked from Blake to Dr. Centafont. I stood there, dumbfounded, wondering why he needed to talk to me. Was he going to tell me I failed my debate speech and, therefore, I’d need to retake the class? Would he blame me for Andrew being messed up? That I hadn’t told him what his son had been doing? Blake pressed his hand against my lower back and pushed me toward the entrance of the elevator.

  I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “Sure.”

  We strolled down the hallway, the silence hanging heavy in the air. My heart pounded three times between each step, and I breathed past the bile climbing my throat. Ohmigod, what if I had failed the class? I’d totally be screwed over for med school applications.

  He stopped abruptly and turned to me. Clasping his arms behind his back, he regarded me with unease.

  “I’m sorry my son has…” He paused as if choosing his words wisely, “dragged you and your friend into his business.” His lips curled as he said this, like the actual words soured his taste buds. “I had no idea what he was into. It seems we can’t always judge people by their family members.” His mouth tipped up in the corner.

  My heart skipped two beats. Was he apologizing? Did this mean I wasn’t going to fail class and I still had a chance to get into med school at Drexler? “I guess so, Dr. Centafont.”

  “What you did today was brave. I’ve said some unwarranted things about your father. I assume you already know that we went to medical school together.”

  I nodded.

  “Your dad was a good man back then, even if I didn’t treat him that way. Smart guy; I’m sure he was a great doctor.”

  “He was.” Where’s this going, Dr. Centafont?

  He let out a soft sigh. “Sometimes it’s hard to put aside biases when you practice medicine. When my mother, who lived in Oregon, decided to go by assisted suicide, I let my feelings about her death influence a lot of what I said in class. I’ve said some very hurtful things, and I’m very sorry, Payton.”

  Holy crap. The guy who could decide my future was apologizing to me. “I’m sorry for your loss. And don’t worry about it; apology accepted.”

  “Your hard work ethic has really shone through in this internship. I think you would make a great candidate for the medical school. Have you thought about applying here?”

  I eyed him suspiciously. Was there going to be a “but”? There was always a “but.” “Yes, I have.”

  “You will need some letters of recommendation.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d be more than happy to give you a glowing recommendation.”

  Was I stroking out? Had I heard him correctly? The president of the Dr. Cooper Haters Club really wanted to write me a letter of rec?

  “Really?” After that whole fiasco this morning in class, I accepted that I’d be rejected by the board of admissions.

  “Yes, it takes a person who sticks to their morals to be a truly great doctor.”

  My heart swelled at his compliment. He believed in me. He thought I’d make a good doctor. “Thank you, Dr. Centafont.”

  He nodded and shook my hand.

  “I’ll see you at the final next week.” He walked down the hall and went into an exam room.

  The final pieces in my heart melded together. I had a future. At Drexler.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Blake

  “Go ahead, open it,” Payton squeaked. I hadn’t even made it into her apartment door before she grilled me.

  Easy for her to give me a hard time. She’d already been admitted into the med school program at Drexler when she applied for early admission.

  The letter had arrived in the mail this morning, and it’d been sitting on my desk all day. All of my interviews had gone well, and I knew my answers on the application packet were pretty bomb. But a little part of me still doubted I’d make it into the program, especially with scholarships.

  I made my way into the living room and smiled. She had her parents’ wedding photo sitting on the end table, along with a newer one of her and her dad at the prison. She’d finally made amends with him, and she stopped having those crazy nightmares. He’d be out in another five years, just in time to see her graduate from med school.

  Someday, I hoped a picture of us at our wedding would be up on our very own end table. I knew this would happen someday. She was the only girl I had ever loved.

  Jules cleared her throat, taking me out of my fantasy of the future.

  “C’mon, Blake. Don’t leave us hangin’,” Jules said.

  Again, easy for her to say. She got her admission letter this morning, and they said yes. She had just returned from rehab a few weeks ago. They let her take classes online while she received help for her addiction.

  She rocked back and forth in the gamer chair, hogging the fan. There were two weeks left of spring semester, and it was unusually hot for June. Payton’s apartment didn’t have AC, and I was sweating my balls off.

  “Jeez, ladies. So eager.” I had already been accepted to two other med programs, but this was the one I wanted most. I wanted to graduate with Payton, our future just starting.

  Things had settled down once Andrew was kicked out of the frat. The university put him on academic probation, and he wasn’t allowed to major in anything that involved pills when he returned.

  Even if I didn’t get in, I still had a lot going for me. I was just elected chapter president, I got Payton back, and I earned a sweet scholarship for my senior year.

  I slowly opened the letter, and Payton’s impatient breath brushed against my ear as she leaned over the sofa, trying to read the letter.

  “Excuse me.” I hid the letter from her, and she let out an exasperated huff.

  “Fine, I’ll give you your privacy.” She moved a few inches away, far enough where I couldn’t feel her breath anymore, but close enough she could read the letter.

  Unfolding it, I read the first word. Congratulations.

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  Acknowledgments

  I have a lot of people who helped me get Unethical to where it is today. First and foremost, I want to say thank you to my amazing editor, Nicole Steinhaus. I am forever grateful that you took a chance on my book. You deserve an Olympic medal for putting up with my barrage of emails and questions. Your feedback has shaped this book into something so much better than I could have ever imagined. Also a big shout out to Karen Grove for feedback in the initial stages, Debbie Suzuki, my fabulous publicist, Brittany Marczak and Heather Howland, cover artists extraordinaire, Liz, and the rest of the team at Entangled.

  Courtney Miller-Callihan, my rock star agent, I am so thankful for your guidance throughout the whole publication process. You have
been a shoulder to cry on and a great sounding board. I am so happy to have you by my side as I embark on my writing career.

  My critique partners Jess Harvey, Rene Gilley, and Lia Riley, I don’t think I would have made it through this process without you. You were the ones who dried my tears when I received the tough rejections, the first people to squee with me about my successes, and I know I can always count on you to give it to me straight. Infinite x’s and o’s.

  Mom and Dad, thank you for always being so supportive. Also, thank you for pushing me into the medical field in college. Without that, I don’t think this book would have happened. Also, thank you, Dad, for answering my very cryptic calls about what ifs in regards to medical laws, ethics, and assisted suicide. (I’m sure that was somewhat concerning, but I swear it was just research!)

  Sher, thank you for being the best sister a girl could ever ask for. And thank you for reading my early draft.

  Khara, I think you’ve read the early draft close to one million times. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your feedback, information about jails, and all the time you took to check for grammatical errors.

  My beloved ‘14 NA debut group, people say that being part of a debut group is crucial for new writers. I now know this is the best advice I’ve ever received. Thank you for keeping me sane throughout the whole process. It’s always nice to know we are going through the same thing together. I am showering you with buckets of Bigfoot love!

  Authors AJ Pine, Natalie Blitt, Megan Erickson, and Amy Trueblood, your friendship has been my savior. You are my people. Thank you for always putting a smile on my face.

  The Twitter community, I love all the support and great people I have met over the past year. Thank you for keeping me stocked with coffee, laughs, and, ahem, inspirational pictures.

  Grandma, I love you and thank you for all the support! I love our letters and talks on the phone. You are a strong woman and an inspiration.

  Marie, Ashley, Khara (you get two shout outs!), and Maya, my college besties. A lot of my inspiration for Unethical came from the stupid stuff we did in college. Those memories will always stick with me. Love you guys.