The chemistry class had been... tolerable. The professor, an enthusiastic man with a voice that echoed throughout the room, had spent most of the hour talking about the periodic table and its "wonders." Olivia had once again tried to take notes, but ended up drawing molecules that looked like smiling faces, while Lindsay listened intently, asking occasional questions. I, for one, just took short notes and waited for the class to end.
When the bell finally rang, the three of us left the classroom with a sense of relief. Olivia stretched out her arms and yawned, as if she had run a marathon instead of sitting in a class.
"Well, that was... "educational," She said, in a tone that suggested otherwise. Shall we go to lunch?
"Yes," Lindsay replied, smiling. Let's go to Arrillaga. I've heard that the food is good.
I nodded silently, following them as we walked toward the Arrillaga Family Dining Commons. The dining room was one of the most popular at Stanford, known for its variety of food options and cozy atmosphere. When we arrived, I was surprised to see how big the place was. There were several food stations, from fresh salads to hot dishes and desserts. The place was full of students, some eating in groups, others studying over coffee.
Olivia looked around with bright eyes, as if she were in an amusement park.
"This is incredible!" She exclaimed. Look at all the options! What should I eat first? Salad? Pizza? Or maybe a little bit of everything?
Lindsay laughed, clutching a tray.
"I think you should start with something light." You don't want to fill up too quickly.
"Light?" Olivia repeated, as if the idea were ridiculous. Lindsay, this is a buffet. The number one rule of buffets is that you should try everything.
"I don't think that's an official rule," I said, taking my own tray.
"Well, it should be," Olivia replied, with a mischievous smile.
While Lindsay and Olivia were arguing about what to eat, I headed to the hot station. There were options ranging from roast chicken to pesto pasta, and I decided to try a little of each. When I returned to the table, Olivia was already sitting with a plate that looked like a food tower. There was salad, pizza, sushi, and what appeared to be a bowl of soup.
"Really?" I asked, looking at her plate.
"What?" Olivia replied, with an innocent smile. I'm just following the rules of the buffet.
Lindsay laughed, sitting down next to her with a much more subdued plate.
"Well, at least you didn't forget the vegetables," she said, pointing to the salad on Olivia's plate.
"yes, well, I need to keep a balance," Olivia replied, taking a bite of pizza. Although I think balance is overrated.
We ate in silence for a moment, enjoying the food and the relaxed atmosphere of the dining room. Olivia soon broke the silence, as always.
"Hey, did you know that Arrillaga has a rating system for food?" She asked, looking at her phone. According to this, roast chicken has four and a half stars.
"Really?" Lindsay asked, surprised. Who rates the food?
"The students," Olivia replied, as if it were obvious. There's an app for that. We should rate what we are eating.
"I don't think it's necessary," I said, taking a bite.
"Of course it is," Olivia replied, in a dramatic tone. How will chefs know if they're doing a good job if we don't give them feedback?
Lindsay laughed, pulling out her phone.
"Well, I guess it doesn't hurt. What would you put on the chicken?
Olivia looked at her plate with a serious expression, as if she was evaluating a work of art.
"I'd give it five stars." It's juicy, well-seasoned, and the portion is generous. Definitely five stars.
"I agree," Lindsay said, smiling. And you, Sack?
"I don't know," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. It is ok.
Olivia looked at me in disbelief.
"Is that okay?" Sack, this is a culinary masterpiece. It deserves more than a "it's okay".
"Okay," I repeated, in a dry tone that made Lindsay laugh.
Olivia sighed, as if disappointed, but couldn't help but smile.
"Well, I suppose not everyone can appreciate the art of food.
We spent the rest of lunch joking around and enjoying the food.
-----------------------------
The days passed quickly, and little by little we got used to the university routine. Mornings were still challenging, especially for Olivia, who seemed to have a love-hate relationship with her alarm clock. More than once, Lindsay had to go to her bedroom to get her out of bed, which always resulted in a comedic scene. Olivia, with her hair disheveled and her eyes half closed, always had an excuse ready: from "the alarm clock conspires against me" to "my bed has me kidnapped".
Marcus, on the other hand, had made it onto Stanford's football team, which meant he spent most of his time training or in meetings with the team. Although we shared a room, we hardly spoke. He was a tough guy, more interested in sports than conversations, and I wasn't exactly the kind of person who started small talk. So our coexistence was limited to occasional greetings and the occasional comment about the weather.
As for the courses, in addition to General Biology and Chemistry, we were taking Introduction to Psychology, Calculus and an academic writing course. They weren't exactly the most exciting courses, but they were necessary to meet the medical requirements.
"Why do we need psychology to be doctors? She asked one day, as we walked to class. Are we going to test our patients?"
"It's important to understand human behavior," Lindsay replied, always the voice of reason. In addition, it could be useful for dealing with difficult patients.
"Well, I've got enough psychology with you two," Olivia said, smiling. Sack is the silent patient and you, Lindsay, are the perfect therapist.
Lindsay laughed, and I just shrugged. Olivia had a way of making everything sound more complicated than it was, but she was also right about something: Lindsay had a knack for understanding people.
Projects began to appear on our agendas. In General Biology, we were assigned a group project on cell structure. In Chemistry, we had to present a report on the chemical reactions in the human body. And in Introduction to Psychology, we had to conduct research on the effects of stress on university students.
"Does anyone else feel that this is too much?" Olivia asked, as we reviewed our tasks in the dining room.
"It's just the beginning," Lindsay said, with a reassuring smile. Once we get organized, everything will be easier.
"Easy for you to say," Olivia replied, taking a bite of her pizza. You are the queen of the organization. I'm more of the "improvise and pray" type.
"It's not so bad," I said, looking at my plate. You just have to prioritize.
Olivia looked at me in disbelief.
"Prioritize," she says. Sack, you're the guy who does everything at the last minute and still gets good grades. You're not a good example.
"I don't do everything at the last minute," I replied, although I knew it wasn't entirely true.
Lindsay laughed, interjecting before Olivia could follow.
Well, the important thing is that we work together. We can meet in the library this afternoon and start the biology project.
"Really?" Today? Olivia asked, with a horrified expression. Can't we postpone it a little? I mean, the semester has just begun.
"The sooner we start, the less stress we'll have later," Lindsay said, in a tone that brooked no argument.
Olivia sighed, resigned.
"It's okay, it's okay. But only if they promise that there will be coffee.
"There will be coffee," I said, with a dry tone that made Lindsay laugh.
So that afternoon we gathered in the library, with our books and laptops ready to work. Olivia, as expected, arrived late and with a huge coffee in her hand.
"I'm sorry, I got lost," she said, smiling. But I brought reinforcements.
Lindsay and I exchanged glances, but we didn't say anything. We knew that, despite her excuses, Olivia always ended up doing her part. And while it was chaotic at times, it was also an essential part of our team.
We spent the next few hours working on the project, discussing ideas, and dividing tasks. Lindsay took the lead, organizing everything with an efficiency that impressed even Olivia. I just did my part, contributing ideas when necessary and correcting errors in the calculations. Olivia, for her part, took it upon herself to make the process more fun, with her sarcastic comments and witticisms.
When we finally finished, it was late and we were exhausted, but also satisfied. Olivia yawned, stretching out in her chair.
"Well, that was... productive," she said, with a smile. Is anyone else hungry?
"You're always hungry," I said, closing my laptop.
"It's my superpower," Olivia replied, laughing. Come on, I invite you to dinner. After all this work, we deserve it.
Lindsay and I nodded, following her out of the library. As we walked, I noticed Lindsay rubbing her eyes, tired but happy. Without thinking too much, I moved a little closer to her and gently tousled her hair with my fingers.
"Good job today," I said, in a softer tone than usual.
She looked at me, surprised at first, but then smiled.
"Thank you, Sack. You did a great job too.
Olivia, who was walking a little further ahead, turned around and looked at us with a mischievous smile.
"Hey, what are you doing back there?" Planning a wedding or something?
"Shut up, Olivia," I said, in a dry tone that only made her laugh more.
Lindsay laughed too, and for a moment, everything seemed perfect. Although I wouldn't admit it out loud, I was becoming more and more comfortable with Lindsay. It was something that had been growing without me noticing, like those small gestures of affection that began to emerge naturally. And the most surprising thing was that Lindsay didn't seem to be bothered. On the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it as much as I did.