Page 2 of Edward’s Bunny
“Alright, man. Catch you later.”
I picked up my bag and headed toward Professor Stanton. He was an older man in his fifties with gray sprinkling his hair. You could tell by his muscular frame that he worked out and stayed in shape. He was very attractive for his age. Heck, I’d do him if I was single, but I liked older men. Case in point: my fifteen-year age gap with Randy.
“Follow me,” Professor Stanton said, turning toward his office.
Even though he had already started to walk away and couldn't see me, I nodded. I hurried behind him and checked out his firm ass. I shook my head.
Come on, Brian. Now is not the time to check out your professor. This is an office talk. Get your head in the game.
Professor Stanton opened his office door and beckoned me to take a seat. I stepped into the cramped office and looked around. It was a cozy scholar's sanctuary, even though it was only the size of a broom closet. The walls were lined with towering wooden bookcases packed to the brim with books of all shapes and sizes, their spines displaying an array of colors and subjects. Piles of worn paperbacks and hardcovers precariously balanced on top, ready to come tumbling down at any moment. It was so claustrophobic that it was difficult to imagine how Professor Stanton could spend hours poring over his research in such a confined space.
An undersized desk was nestled into one corner, practically hidden beneath a mound of papers and documents, with only a small area left clear for a cup of coffee or perhaps a notebook. The walls were adorned with a few framed awards and diplomas, adding a touch of academic prestige to the otherwise cluttered space.
I hurriedly took a seat on a creaky wooden chair and scanned the room once more. Professor Stanton shut the door behind him with a soft thud, maneuvering through the narrow gap between the overflowing bookcases and his cluttered desk to slide into his own chair. The sound of the door closing seemed to amplify the confined atmosphere of the small room, and I couldn't help but fidget nervously in my seat.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, my voice wavering slightly.
“Of course not,” he said, settling in his office chair and looking up at me. “I wanted to talk about your future.”
“My future?”
He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Yes. I know this is the last semester before you graduate. What are your plans?”
I relaxed. This was a conversation I could deal with. “I’ve got a nursing position lined up with the pediatrics department at Tampa General that I’ll be starting in the new year. I’d like to deal with children.”
Professor Stanton wore a thoughtful expression. “I can see that. You have a great bedside manner. You’ve done great in your clinical training.” He paused and leaned back in his chair. “So, no medical school?”
“I’d love to go to medical school. But honestly. I can’t afford it. It’s taken me six years to get my bachelor’s in nursing, and that’s with working full time.”
“Have you thought of scholarships or loans?”
I shook my head. “I refuse to take loans. It’s why I worked so hard. As far as scholarships, I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m good enough.”
His eyes widened, and he leaned forward. “You don’t think you’re good enough. Are you insane? You do know you’re at the top of your class, right? Not to mention, your MCAT score is phenomenal. Why did you take the MCAT if you weren’t thinking about med school?”
“I’m the top of the class? Really?”
Professor Stanton nodded. Butterflies filled my stomach, and I shivered with excitement. I had just kept my head down and done the work. I had no idea I’d reached the top.
“Wow. I…. I don’t know what to say.”
“You really didn’t know? You had no idea. I can’t believe it.” Disbelief filled his voice. “You do know about your MCAT, right?”
I nodded. “I took that to try to prove a point to my boyfriend. He had said some things, and I just was hoping I could score higher than his five thirteen. I haven’t received my score yet.”
Professor Stanton’s eyes widened, and he laughed astonishedly before leaning back. “You got a five twenty-four.”
My jaw dropped. “Five twenty-four. I got a five twenty-four. Are you serious?”
A five twenty-four was insane. It was only four points off a perfect score, and I didn’t even study that hard. Yes, I studied, but I didn’t stress over it. At the time, I was more pissed off at Randy than anything. I had never expected this.
“I’m very serious. You should’ve received an email notification and a letter. It’s why I was going to try to get you to go to med school here. I thought for sure you applied to Harvard or Columbia.”
“Wow. I—wow. I know I’m saying that a lot, but I’m shocked.”
Professor Stanton smiled. “I’m positive you’re good enough. Would you consider applying here? There’s a scholarship available. I can recommend it to the dean, and we can get everything sorted so you can start in the new semester. That is if you’re interested.”
“Yes!” I shouted.