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This Tuesday had started as a very normal day for Adam Carlsen, Ph.D. in biology at Stanford. It was early September, the school year hadn't started yet, and he was able to dive into his research projects before having to be burdened with teaching his numerous classes. He had been working in his lab all morning, helped his grad students with their experiments, answered a few of the dozens e-mails he received every day – despite his very good spam filter – and he was now heading for the restroom adjacent to his lab to dispose of a reagent he no longer needed.
And then, everything changed. As soon as he reached the door, Adam became aware of a presence in the small white-tiled room. A presence he didn't expect or recognize. A young woman was standing by the sink, her back facing him. She wore a black dress that advantageoulsy showed her legs from the knee. Adam was surprised he even noticed, usually he was remarkably unaware of how women looked or dressed. The second thing he noticed was that she was sobbing. His brows frowned. He was used to make his grad students cry, more than he probably should, but he hadn't even see her or talk to her before this very second. What the hell was this girl doing in his lab's restroom ? He asked himself quite angrily. He decided to ask her directly.
« Out of curiosity, is there a specific reason you're crying in my restroom ? »
She squeaked and turned to look at him through teary and reddish eyes. He had surprised her, apparently, and she stammered « I... is this the ladie's restroom ? »
Ah, it looked like it was only a mistake from her part. « Nope, » he responded after a few seconds while he wondered why she kept her eyelids partially closed.
« Are you sure ? »
Oh yeah ! No way he would be in a ladie's restroom. « Yes. »
« Really ? »
She was stubborn. « Fairly, since this is my lab's restroom, » he specified.
She seemed to digest the information. « I'm so sorry. Do you need to... » She gestured towards the back of the room and Adam looked at her confused.
What was she talking about ? Oh. She thought it was a bathroom and he needed to use it. He continued to watch her from the door frame with a growing interest as she tried to wipe her tears with the sleeve of her black dress, very unsuccessefully he noticed. He just stood there, not sure what to do. He was intrigued by this girl, and he couldn't really pinpoint why. Not used to talk to people – exception made of Holden – he tried to explain « I just need to pour this reagent down the drain, » and stayed put where he was by the door. « We don't use this as a restroom, » he continued, « just to dispose of waste and wash equipment. »
« Oh, sorry. I thought... » She stopped talking, and there she was, rubbing her teary closed eyes, standing in his restroom like she didn't mind being an intruder in his lab.
Why was she here ? Why was she crying ? Who was she ? The questions piled up in Adam's brain, to his own stupefaction, he who never took an interest in anything else than his work, he who never noticed people. « Are you okay ? » he asked softly, not sure why he suddenly cared for a girl that he should just have pushed outside of this room and towards a real bathroom.
« Sure, why do you ask ? »
That's a really good question, hell if I know ! But it didn't seem like you're okay. « Because you are crying. In my bathroom. » The last part felt a little like a property assertion that was quite ridiculous, but it was his work place for a few years now. He liked being alone while working if he could. And she was trespassing after all.
« Oh, I'm not crying. Well, I sort of am, but it's just tears, you know ? »
« I do not. » She wasn't making any sense. Crying is crying. He really didn't understood women. Or people in general, in fact, as Holden repeatedly told him.
She sighed and leaned back against the wall, eyes still closed. « It's my contacts. They expired some time ago, and they were never that great to begin with. They messed up my eyes. I've taken them off, but... » She shrugged and Adam's eyes widened.
She seemed so oblivious of her own health that he couldn't help staring with a concerned look at her, not that it mattered, since her eyelids were still firmly shot.
« It takes a while, before they get better. »
« You put in expired contacts ? » Was she stupid ? Or mad ? Adam realized his voice was quite rude but she didn't seem offended or afraid at all. It was so refreshing from his usual interactions with people around the department.
« Just a little expired », she replied calmly.
« What's a little ? » he asked out of curiosity.
« I don't know. A few years. »
Adam couldn't retain the loud « What ? » that blurted out of his mouth.
« Only just a couple, I think. »
She was clearly insane. How could she have put contacts expired so long ago ? « Just a couple of years ? » he repeated astonished by her careless actions. Did she had a death wish ? Did she plan to become blind ?
« It's okay. Expiration dates are for the weak. »
So not stupid or mad. But clearly strong minded. He liked that. A lot. This conversation was becoming more interesting by the minute. She almost made him laugh. Instead, he let a snort escape his nose. « Expiration dates are so I don't find you weeping in the corner of my bathroom. » Again with the possessiveness. Adam, you have to calm down, or she will leave and you're enjoying this moment way too much to want that, don't you ?
« It's fine, » she said with a wave of the hand. « The burning usually lasts only a few minutes. »
Wait ? Was it a regular habit of hers that she knew the effects so well ? « You mean you've done this before ? »
« Done what ? » she asked with a frown.
« Put in expired contacts, » he specified.
« Of course. Contacts are not cheap. »
Ah. that was it. Money issue. But still, he had to retort « Neither are eyes. »
She grunted but changed the subject of the conversation. A conversation that had lasted so much more that any he had for the past years, outside of his work duties or his interactions with students and faculty. He was quite astonished that she was able to talk to him so casually, through the pain her eyes must put her through. And he was even more astonished that he kept talking to her. Clearly the longest conversation he had in years that wasn't work related, or with Holden, his oldest and best friend. « Hey, have we met ? » she asked him.
No, I could never have forget meeting someone like you before in my life. Even if I don't really know who you are, or what you've done to me to make me speak with you like that.
« Maybe last night, at the recruitment dinner with prospective Ph.D students ? »
So that was why she was at Stanford. To join the Ph.D program. If he had known, he would have made the effort of attending the party. « No. I never go to public events if I can avoid it. » Great, tell her what kind of an asocial ass you are.
« You weren't there ? » she insisted.
« Not really my scene. » After all, the most feared professor of the biology department, maybe of the entire faculty, wasn't a good prospect to offer to possible future students. Stanford didn't want to frighten them before they joined. Oh yeah, he was well aware of his 'reputation'. And even if he didn't really care what people thought about him – they were a bunch of grad students – Holden didn't miss an opportunity of reminding him of it. God, he loved and hated this guy so much...
« But the free food ? » she added.
Yep, money issues. Like every student. « Not worth the small talk, » he responded frankly, to his very own surprise. Since when did he openly admit such things ? This girl was so intriguing, and the effect she seemed to have on Adam would be worth a whole thesis study. Maybe he could deepened the subject if he had the opportunity of meeting her again. So he asked « Are you interviewing for a spot in the program ? »
« Yup. For next year biology cohort. »
Oh God. His department. He wasn't sure if that information was reassuring of completely frightening him. On one hand, maybe he could cross path with her if she joined for her Ph.D. But on the other hand, she seemed to have the weirdest influence on Adam and he wasn't sure what to make of it.
« What about you ? » she asked while pressing her palms into her eyes.
So small hands compared to his, that were still clinging around the beaker of reagent he held. He blinked out of his thoughts. « Me ? »
« How long have you been here? »
« Here ? » At the door of this room ? It looked like hours. He couldn't tell. This conversation was so awkward to him, so strange, so unexpected. For once, he could speak to a student without his frightful reputation impeding. His brain suddenly caught up. She meant here, at Stanford. « Six years give or take. »
« Oh. Are you graduating soon, then ? »
Was that a hint of disappointment in her voice ? He slowly shook his head to gather his thoughts. She really didn't have the slightest idea who she was talking to. Obviously. She couldn't see after all. And he was enjoying this moment a bit too much to inform her of who he was. It would surely mean the end of this conversation, and he wasn't ready for that. It was so refreshing to speak with someone who didn't know him as 'Dr Adam-ass-Carlsen'. Oh yeah, he'd heard it whispered enough times to know it was his nickname amongst the students, and even some of the faculty members. It did pained him a little, if he thought of the nightmare his own advisor put him through, but he was sure he wasn't nearly half as brutal and sadistic as this man once were to him. Adam never wanted for people to fear him. It was just who he was, how he was, and he didn't know if he could ever be anything else. Except that now, with this girl, he felt like he could finally. Be someone else entirely. « I... » he started hesitantly.
« Wait, you don't have to tell me. First rule of grad school – don't ask about other grad's dissertation timeline. »
Should he tell her ? His mind raced with possibilities. She felt like an open door, to what he didn't know, but he wasn't willing to close it by confessing who he really was. « Right, » he simply said. He wasn't lying after all. She had made an assumption by herself that he was a student. He just wasn't correcting her.
« Sorry. I didn't mean to channel your parents at Thanksgiving. »
To his own stupefaction, Adam laughed. Softly, but still, it surprised him yet. She would have to be a lot more obnoxious and harsh to even began to compare to them. « You could never. »
« Oh, » she said, and a smile took over her face, lightening the whole room. He stared at her, noticing the little folds around the corners of her mouth, the locks of hair surrounding her cheeks, wandering how she could look so bright and beautiful with closed weepy eyes. « Annoying parents ? »
They would have to actually remember they had a son to be annoying. He simply replied « And even worse Thanksgiving. » Thank God they weren't the tight kind of family, and spending time with Holden and his folks was so much more nice.
« That's what you Americans get for leaving the Commonwealth. » She held out her hand towards him and he stared at her small slender fingers, hesitating to squeeze it. Adam didn't like touching or being touched, if he could help it. « I'm Olive, by the way. Like the tree. »
He stayed still by the door frame, for maybe too long, and he watched her slightly tilt her head to the side. So he took one step forward, inside the room, and closed his large hand around hers. Her skin was warm, a little wet from the tears, extremely soft, and he enjoyed, for maybe the first time of his adult life, the touch of a human being other that Holden. His friend was an exception, due to both a form of habit – Holden was particularly tactile – and the love he felt for the man that he had known for the most part of his life. Suddenly, his brain took notice of what she had said. Wait, she wasn't American ? She spoke English perfectly, so it must have been her native langage. And no noticeable accent, so not British or Australian. However, he himself hadn't really speak English before he came back in the US at age nine, and still he spoke as a real native American. Maybe they had some common points ? What did he even care of having something in common with her ? « You 're not an American ? » he couldn't help asking.
« Canadian. Listen, if you happen to talk with anyone who's on the admission, would you mind not mentioning my contacts misstep ? It might make me seem like a less-stellar applicant ? »
« You think so ? » he teased her with a serious voice, before realizing that his second degree sense of humour wasn't usually well accepted by most people. However, he saw her face twist in a grin and her eyelids tightened more closely. Great, she had understood he was joking. Her grimace made her so cute that he let escape a single small laughter and then he realized he was still holding her hand in his. It was awkward. He was being awkward. And he let go of her, his cheeks warming up as he was silently glad that she couldn't see him. He tried to straighten himself and asked her « Are you planning to enroll ? » Will you be at Stanford next year ? Here, in the same department as me ?
She shrugged. « I might not get an offer. »
For what he just witnessed in a casual conversation of a few minutes, she seemed rather intelligent, focused, stubborn even. But obviously she wasn't overly confident about herself and her capacities. Lack of confidence maybe ? At least she wasn't full of herself like so many grad students he knew. « Are you planning to enroll if you get an offer, then ? » Why the hell was he so curious about her, her future ? He didn't even know her, outside of her name and that fact that she had the bad habit of wearing expired contacts. But he wished he could have the opportunity to learn more. Adam couldn't help but being awkwardly drawn to her.
« I... maybe. I must say, the line between excellent career choice and critical life screwup is getting a bit blurry. »
Yep. Definitely smart. And funny, even despite herself. « Seems like you're leaning toward screwup, » he replied with a smirk. Since when did he smiled so much ? If Holden could see him right now, he would have a field day.
« No. Well... I just... » She stopped and he wanted to know more.
« You just ? » he interrogated her.
She bit her lip, surely stressed to open up to a total stranger she had just met in an unknown restroom. « What if I'm not good enough ? » she blurted out suddenly.
Adam wasn't sure of what he should say to her. Doubts were a good sign, it showed she was honest towards herself, that she had a scientific mind, ready to question her knowledge. Maybe he should encourage or comfort her ? It wasn't an idea he usually entertained, saying what was expected of him, and he decided to remain true to his personality. Even though he really liked being able to help her in any way he could. « Why do you want to do it ? » he settled on asking.
« Do... what ? »
« Get a Ph.D. What's your reason ? »
She cleared her throat. « I've always had an inquisitive mind, and graduate school is the ideal environment to faster that. It'll give me important transferable skills - »
Adam snorted, that answer should have worked with for the commission that decided on which students to accept in the program, but he asked for the real reason, her reason.
She frowned, her eyes still closed but lifting them towards his head. « What ? »
« Not the line you found in an interview prep book. Why do you want a Ph.D ? »
« It's true, » she insisted, « I want to sharpen my research abilities- »
« Is it because you don't know what else to do ? » he proposed.
« No. »
Ok, good. « Because you didn't get an industry position ? » he continued.
« No – I didn't even apply for industry. »
« Ah » he replied. Even better. Rare were those who considered academia as their first choice. The Ph.D program wasn't an easy path to go through. At least, she wasn't interested by money or a reasonable work schedule, despite her apparent lack of revenues. Adam then realized he still held his beaker of reagent in his left hand, the smell of eugenol starting to give him a headache. He approached Olive, still leaning against the tiled wall next to the sink, to pour the liquid in the drain. He was close to her now, and he could perceive the sweet smell of a flowery shampoo mixed with a hint of something sugary and an other thing he couldn't quite identify. Like a promise of something new.
« I need more freedom that industry can offer, » she said, snapping him of his awake dream.
« You won't have much freedom in academia, » he confessed. « You'll have to fund your work through ludicrously competitive research grants. You'd make better money in a nine-to-five job that actually allows you to entertain the concept of weekends. » Adam didn't have a life outside of his work, and he didn't mind. What else could he do with his time if he didn't work so much ? But she must be a normal person, with friends and family she needed to spend time with and he wanted to offer her an insight into the reality of the life she was leaning towards.
She scowled. « Are you trying to get me to decline my offer ? Is this some kind of anti-expired-contacts-wearers campaign ? »
Such a smart-ass. « Nah. » Just trying to layout some painful but necessary warning. He knew first-handed the hard truth : the grant proposals, the long hours, the never ending networking, all the things he wished he could skip to focus only on the research, the science he loved so much. He smiled as he returned to the subject of her expired contacts. The only reason she was standing in the middle of his lab's restroom. The only reason they met. « I'll go ahead and trust that what just a misstep. » A wonderful misstep.
« I wear them all the time, and the almost never - »
« In a long line of missteps, clearly. » He sighed. A misstep he was so grateful for. Because it had allowed him to cross path with her. « Here's the deal, » he truthfully continued. « I have no idea if you're good enough. » Even if I suspect you can be. « But that's not what you should be asking yourself. Academia's a lot of bucks for very little bang. What matters is whether your reason to be in academia is good enough. So why the Ph.D, Olive ? » Her name sounded so sweet in his mouth, to his ears, and he watched her dive deeply in her thoughts. They stayed a few minutes in silence, side by side in the small room. He enjoyed the quiet moment, amazed by the feeling that sipped inside him. A mix of rightfulness – to be with her, alone, so close –, of want – for more time with her, for more than just talking –, of happiness and contentment, of something he hadn't felt before.
« I have a question, » she finally said carefully. « A specific research question. Something that I want to find out. Something I'm afraid no one else will discover if I don't. »
« A question ? » He wondered what it could be. Whatever it was, it obviously meant a lot to her. Maybe if she did enter the Ph.D program at Stanford, he could help her work on it. He wanted to work with her, to help her, however he could, even if he didn't understand why. He couldn't resist getting even closer to her and leaned against the sink, right next to her. The fact that her eyes remained closed made him bolder that he never had been around a woman before. Or maybe it was because she wasn't like any other woman he ever met before.
« Yes. Something that's important to me. And – I don't trust anyone else to do it. Because they haven't so far. Because... »
There it was. The real reason. He could tell by the look on her face, by the sound of her voice. It was personal. And painful. But he could also perceive that she was driven, she cared. She really cared. And she would be an amazing scientist. A relentless researcher. She had so much potential, he had mentored enough students to sense it. She finally opened her eyes, and they were filled with determination, sadness, pain, doubt. He waited patiently, looking at her, eager to learn more. About her, her reason, her question, anything she would be willing to share with him.
« It's important to me, » she repeated. « The research that I want to do. »
It really seemed so. Stanford wasn't going to let such a promising student pass, they would offer her a spot in the Ph.D program. He nodded. He understood, this need to live for science, this desire to discover the answers no one had never even look for. She had the true heart and spirit of a scientist. He straightened and took a few steps toward the door, forcing himself to leave the room. He had a faculty meeting to attend, and as much as he would prefer to keep talking to Olive, he had linger there too long already. He couldn't really say if minutes or hours had passed, but he had to go.
« Is mine a good enough reason to go to grad school ? » she called after him as he was about to reach the door. She seemed to need an honest answer.
And so he stopped and fixed his eyes on her. « It's the best one, » he told her with a smile. « Good luck on your interview, Olive, » he added as he was about to reluctantly exit the restroom.
« Thanks »
Adam realized that it might actually be the first time a student thanked him for giving his truthful opinion. And for once, she was crying when he arrived, but smiling when he left.
« Maybe I'll see you next year. If I get in. And if you haven't graduated. » She looked at him with flushed cheeks and it rose a wave of warmth inside his chest.
She was hoping to see him again. He already knew he had to see her again. But as he let her words anchored inside him, he realized. She thought he was a grad student. She had no idea who he really was. However, she was looking at him now, with all the intensity of her wonderful eyes, green as emeralds, still a little wet from her tears. She'll recognize him, and with some luck, he'll get to know her, to let her know him, before his awful reputation could reach and frighten her. « Maybe, » he just replied, stepping out of the restroom with a smile plastered on his face, leaving open the possibility of a future meeting.
When Adam returned to his lab, he couldn't get rid of the grin that floated on his usually so severe face. He remarked the look his students made. Dumbfounded, like they couldn't believe that Dr Carlsen was even able to be happy. He tried to straighten himself to his normal moody self, but he couldn't totally reach it. The memory of his talk – only a few minutes really – with Olive – he loved the way her name sounded in his mind – burned into his prefrontal cortex. He was sure it was engraved in his neurons for eternity. He could forget about everything else, he would always remember this.
And when Holden came to see him in this office that evening, before heading home to walk Fleming, his friend knew him so well that he immediately understood that something happened. After a rather long and inquisitive row of questions, when Adam reluctantly summarized the encounter, Holden was delighted for some stupid reason. Adam refused to tell him her name, so his friend spend the next thirty-five months referring to Olive as 'the bathroom girl'.
Until, one fateful night, when Adam was working late in his lab and he walked across an almost empty corridor of the biology building. And then, everything changed again.