When Darkness Ends (Moments in Boston #3) - Marni Mann Page 0,17

walk you to the train station.”

She didn’t respond; she just started moving in the direction of the orange line. After several steps, she broke the silence. “I did all the talking tonight; you didn’t even get a chance to tell me more about yourself.”

I chuckled. “There isn’t really much to tell.”

“I find that hard to believe. Answer these questions for me …” She paused to take a drink of her coffee. “What’s your thing—you know, aside from medicine? What’s your ugliest scar, and when was the last time you cried?”

We approached a crosswalk, and I looked down at the top of her head. It reached the center of my chest, the perfect placement to bend my neck just slightly and kiss her.

But I kept my hands and my mouth to myself and replied, “Even your questions are interesting.”

“I’m not the kind of girl who wants to know the obvious.”

“I’m still learning what kind of girl you are, but I assure you, it’s a type I’ve never met before.” The signal changed, and we crossed the intersection. “I’m a lover of sports, and I played football in high school. I was an all-state wide receiver.” When we got to an area where we could stop, I pulled up the leg of my jeans, showing her the scar on my knee. “Tore my meniscus and fractured my tibia during a game my senior year.”

“Were you going to play football in college?”

“I was recruited by a few Division II schools, but none of them had premed, and that meant more to me than being a college athlete.”

“Whoa.” She adjusted her purse, balancing the bag of pies and coffee in her other hand. “That couldn’t have been an easy choice.”

“Giving up a full scholarship? No.” I looked toward the end of the block, focusing on the street sign as I continued, “But what was much tougher was seeing my dad in the hospital. Three years ago, the doctors had found a tumor on his kidney. It was caught in time, but there were some major complications that followed his surgery, and things got pretty rough there for a couple of weeks.”

I didn’t have to tell her that was where the tears had come in; I was sure she could read that on my face.

“I’m so sorry, Ashe. How’s he doing now?”

“All good.” I took a drink from my coffee. “He plays tennis every day in the summer and hits up the gym in the winter. He’s probably in the best shape of his life now.”

Her eyes softened. “A wonderful epilogue.” The only time I had seen that look was when she was talking about her grandmother. “Siblings?”

“I have two older sisters.”

“That explains everything.”

I laughed at her tone. “What does that mean?”

“You’re used to being around women; that’s why you’re sensitive to them.”

“I thought you were going to say I was a mama’s boy, and I was going to fight you on that one.”

“No, I don’t sense that at all. You seem extremely independent.” She stopped as we approached another crosswalk. “Is anyone in your family a doctor? I’m curious where your passion for medicine comes in.”

“Just me.” The lights from the train station were up ahead—a sign that I was running out of time. “I was born with this desire to save people, getting in and finding the problem and fixing it. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“And you’re making it happen.”

“I have to survive premed first, and I’ll admit, it’s kicking my ass.” The light changed, and we began walking again. “MCATs will be next, and that score, along with my grades, will determine which med school accepts me.”

“What’s your top pick?”

“Johns Hopkins. It’s a pipe dream, but, man, I’d love to go there. Harvard and UPenn are on my short list as well.”

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll be attending one of the three.”

I slowed my pace. “You certainly have a lot of confidence in me.”

She glanced at me, gazing through her lashes. “You don’t stop fighting until you get what you want. Tonight is proof of that.” Now that we’d arrived, she turned around, putting her back to the entrance. “I appreciate you walking me here.”

“When can I see you again?”

“I don’t know …” She broke our eye contact, telling me how hard this was for her.

When they’re fast on their feet, they want to be chased.

“You can trust me,” I said, repeating the words I’d said earlier, and I opened the top of her school bag, finding a pen