The Scars of Anatomy

Unknown - Olivia's pov

A white Corolla pulls into my driveway, the bass of the radio rattling the car, despite it being seven in the morning. And as if my neighbors couldn't hate my noisy best friend enough this early in the morning, she honks the horn.

Delilah pokes her curly head out of the driver's side window, smiling brightly. "Happy last first day of undergrad!"

I stand from my sitting position on the front porch steps, throwing my arms out at my sides. "Really? I'm right here, ready to go."

"I know," she states simply before a devious smile graces her lips. She honks the horn again for emphasis.

I sigh, rolling my eyes.

Taking the last two bites of my apple, I throw the core away in the trashcan before hopping into the passenger seat and buckling up.

Delilah grabs my arm, shaking me excitedly. "It's our senior year, Liv!" she exclaims, her face glowing with senior status bliss.

A mix of emotions swirl around in my belly. "I know," I say, not sure if my voice comes off as excited or nervous.

Either way, Delilah's smile stays firmly in place as she turns back to the wheel and begins backing out of the driveway.

It's both exciting and unnerving to think that this is our last year of undergraduate classes. Dee and I are both in the pre-med program at Garton University and plan on getting into medical school next year. I'm hoping to go into cardiac surgery one day and she's more than determined to become a neurosurgeon. I just hope both of our dreams pan out and I'm able to stay local for med school.

While Georgia isn't the place I was born, nor the place I spent the first half of my childhood, it's my home. It's the first place I've ever felt stable, secure, safe. I can't imagine ever moving away, but I know medical schools are selective and you have to take what you can get sometimes. I'm just hoping wherever I end up is in Georgia. The ultimate dream would be if I got into the program here at Garton University.

Fingers crossed.

Dee drives the short distance to campus, cursing at all the cars parked without a student parking sticker. "Dumbass freshman," she seethes, her hands strangling the steering wheel, eyes narrowed behind her big glasses, on the hunt for any available parking space. "I hope they all get parking tickets."

I chuckle as she crawls along in the parking lot traffic, everyone else seeming to have difficulty finding a place to park on the first day of classes. Eventually, Dee gives in, following the masses to the next available parking lot that's about a five minute walk from the science building where our first class is.

She swings the Corolla into the first available parking spot, throwing it in park. Her hands still white knuckled around the steering wheel, an odd silence and stillness consumes the car. It's like that moment before a big storm, where the sky grows dark and the temperature suddenly drops about ten degrees, birds flying away, knowing to seek shelter.

And then the storm comes.

Dee lets out a scream. A long, frustrated scream.

I flinch at the sudden, unexpected noise.

After her outburst, she takes in some calming breaths, chanting the mantra, "We're fine. We're cool. We're zen."

Once those words seem to be true, she turns to me, plastering a huge smile on her face. "Senior year is going to be awesome," she states, oozing with fake optimism.

I laugh, shaking my head. "Well, I guess it's a good thing you always pick me up an hour before class starts. You know, because what if there's a zombie apocalypse?" I mock her.