Chapter Text
Blue eyes. Golden curls. The perfect smile. My heart expanded bigger than the oceans, the sky, the sun, beyond all of the things I knew. I couldn’t breathe for a second but I felt more alive than when I fought monsters, gods, titans even. I could’ve stared at him for the rest of my days and it wouldn’t have been a life wasted. He reached out towards me, beckoning me, asking a question. The inquisition rested in the folds of his cheeks and I didn’t have the strength to stay away any longer.
Before we could touch though, a loud buzzing broke through my dream and I was rudely awoken by my stupid alarm. The last haziness of my sleep was ripped away harshly and I stared up at the ceiling of my bedroom not wanting to look beside me at the empty bed.
I allowed myself ten extra seconds of warmth before tearing myself out of the duvet to get ready for the day. I let the water run cold as I washed my face in an attempt to wake myself up. I dressed in grey jeans and a dark green sweatshirt I’d bought on a shopping trip last week with Hazel. The fact that I was seeing my sister later lifted my spirits somewhat and that gave me the motivation to slip on my converse before heading through the hallway to the living area.
The apartment wasn’t big but that didn’t bother me. In fact, I welcomed it when it was just the two of us. Too much space and you start to feel as if none of it’s really yours. The hallway opened up into the kitchen-living room area with the counters lining the back wall and a corner sofa facing a small TV on the side. The kitchen counters were dirty with fragments of popcorn from when we’d watched a movie last night and I made a mental note to clean up when I got back home after class.
I grabbed an apple before heading out, climbing down the two flights of steps and into the sun swept streets of New Rome. The beauty of the city never failed to improve my mood and the warm feeling of the day definitely helped me overcome the small pit of something in the bottom of my chest. It wasn’t that I wasn’t used to the feeling; it was just that my mind had grown accustomed to being at least a little happy all of the time.
The entrance to New Rome University hadn’t changed much since I’d first visited the place at just fourteen. I hadn’t thought much of it at the time but since Erudite had gotten ‘defeated’ (I liked describing dickheads in my life like enemies in a story, sue me) the place had definitely become that little bit more queer. And now, multiple visits, warped plans, tiresome classes, heartbreaks and six years later, I walked through the grand double doors into the traditional wooden hall and traced the steps I took everyday to get to the Tiberius lecture theatre.
I wasn’t late but soon after I’d arrived, my professor started greeting us, just the usual spiel about how the weekend was over (no shit) and that we can leave all that fun behind us (double no shit) now that it was a “Bright, fresh Monday morning.” Kill me.
I slid into my usual spot in the lecture theatre (back right corner) when I didn’t want to speak to anyone, opened my notepad and tried to block everything else out to listen to Professor Typal.
“So after your first year, you should have a great foundation of psychology and in your second year, as you know, we’ll be really focusing on therapy in different situations.”
Despite my head nagging me to continue with my moody, emo grump persona, subconsciously, my ears pricked up and I started taking in everything he was saying.
“So after gaining knowledge about the theoretical principles of counselling,” he was saying, “we’ll be taking a closer look into a vast array of sub specialities including development, educational, occupational, trauma and even taking a deeper dive into cognitive neuroscience, personality disorders and how it links to psychiatry.”
Mmm, that was interesting. Specifically the modules on development and trauma. I still felt a bit weird studying something I was so close to personally. Why study trauma responses when I was already a lifelong expert? But somehow, it helped me compartmentalise and view the bigger picture. I knew what I wanted to do in the future and my passion for it kept me going when it got tough.
“I know psychiatry is a medical specialty,” Professor Typal continued, “but there are huge links between that and therapy, and you’ll all work very closely to psychiatrists in the future.”
A couple of people were grumbling about that. I caught a few of their conversations: “Doctors are such snobs, I’d rather not.” “Psychiatrists don’t even help their patients, they leave that to us and then take the credit!” “What’s a psychiatrist?”
I snorted. I didn’t have any particularly strong opinions, but it did constantly feel like a weird feud between us and the medical students. Well, it wasn’t like anything ever explicitly happened, just passing comments at parties or gossiping in lectures. I didn’t exactly take part though. Out loud.
Professor Typal was trying to quieten the chatter down, but he wasn’t the most authoritative. He was more like a friend who happened to be in a position of power. “Now now,” he stammered. “I’m sure all of you will have great respect for your medical colleagues and will prove that during our joint project with them this year!”
A collective uproar ensued, protesting this new revelation. I sat back in disinterest, again not really caring either way. It was funny when people got carried away. Someone was even standing up, pointing and shouting at the professor. What an idiot.
It was not looking good for Typal. He could barely hold our attention on a good day and this was frankly awful news to most of the therapy students. Not only working with our ‘enemies’ but none of us really knew any of the medics. I’m sure they were nice enough but other people were clearly pissed they couldn’t do another shitty, laidback project with their besties like last year.
“I hope this reaction isn’t about the joint project.”
The room suddenly fell to silence and we collectively turned our heads to see Professor da’Silva entering the lecture theatre.
“It’s the head of medicine!” the person next to me whisper shouted.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Of course I knew that. Plus, couldn’t they tell by my seating choice and resting bitch face that I was currently not welcoming any conversation starters?
Professor da’Silva glided into the centre of the room, the complete contrast to her colleague who also stared at her along with us. She’d only spoken quietly but she had the entire room’s attention and respect immediately. Even the way she held herself was admirable.
“As I was saying,” she said in her deep, commanding voice, “I really don’t think there’s a problem here, though I would love to hear your concerns.”
She looked pointedly at the guy who was stood up. He couldn’t hold her stare and he mumbled something incomprehensible before taking his seat.
She didn’t smile, but I knew she looked triumphant. “This is a great opportunity for us to share our talents and knowledge,” she projected. “And I hope that it’s the start of many blossoming friendships in the field.”
I almost snorted in ironic derision but managed to catch myself. That was lucky since the room was so silent, she probably would’ve heard me.
“You’ll receive more information in due course,” she added. “As well as your partnership allocations.” She nodded at us and then Professor Typal. “Please enjoy your autumn semester, and start thinking about your project- it’ll come up sooner than you think.”
She took a small bow and took her leave. Professor Typal, probably not wanting to deal with the fallout again, quickly fumbled, “That’s it for now! Dismissed.”
I grabbed my notebook and followed the crowd out, heading towards my scheduled group discussion session.
“Hey, Nico!”
I turned around to see Ocean hurrying to catch up to me. She was wearing her signature blue marbled knee-length jacket and black skinny jeans.
“Hi, Ocean,” I smiled when she’d caught up to me.
She flung her arm around me. “Hey, girl, where have you been? I didn’t see you in the lecture.”
“I was at the back,” I replied as we headed towards our class. I was starting to feel a bit more normal now. Ocean was my best friend who I’d met last year during our classes and even though I’d been a bit standoffish at the start (and during some hard times later on), she somehow seemed to find my company worth sticking to.
I guess that the only way I was capable of making friends now was if they stuck by me relentlessly despite my moods. Maybe because it had been the opposite way in the past with a certain son of Poseidon and I couldn’t stand to be hurt like that again. It was probably something I should work on considering I wasn’t really close to anyone else on my course except for Ocean.
Ugh. My course was starting to make me therapise myself. I told myself to cut it out.
“You weren’t wallowing at the back again like a crusty little grouch, huh?” she nudged me.
I suppressed a smile. “Maybe I was just avoiding you.”
“Nahhhh,” she chuckled confidently. “I’m the only person you tolerate at this university.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Well, not including your roommate I guess,” she conceded.
“I have other friends,” I replied. It was kind of true. I talked to people. I complained about the workload. I made jokes. I laughed at theirs. I was liked… I think.
“Other people consider you as a friend,” Ocean corrected me.
I guessed I just had higher standards of what a friendship actually meant.
We reached our class and went to sit on two of the swivelling chairs creating a semicircle facing the whiteboard at the front. I pulled out the mini desk attached to the chair and placed my notepad onto it.
“Can you believe the project we have to do with the med students?” the girl next to me asked loudly. I think her name was Laura.
I shrugged. “Maybe it’ll humble them a bit.”
She laughed and nodded. I knew how to say the bare minimum to fit in. Then she knit her eyebrows together and pointed her pen at me. “Hey, don’t you know a medic?”
Something in my chest contracted and several hundred memories zigzagged their way through my entire nervous system.
“Oh. My. Gods,” Ocean exclaimed dramatically. “Lauren, where did you get that cardigan?”
Oops, I hadn’t quite remembered her name then. Not that I cared. Now, I was silently hating her for something even though she had absolutely no way of knowing she’d done anything wrong.
“Alpollucio’s in the city,” Lauren beamed at Ocean. “They have the best stuff there!”
“Girl, we should totally go there for a shopping trip!” Ocean replied, completely matching her energy. Predictably, Lauren nodded enthusiastically.
Thankfully our tutor arrived at that point and Lauren didn’t have time to re-ask her question. Thankfully I could close my heart again to the anguish my head insisted on replaying to me any time it got the chance. And most of all, thankfully I was saved from talking about how the medic I knew was no longer in my life.