03 | tutorial

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Nightlife has made the October Editor's Pick List! 

I am so grateful for this opportunity, and look forward to sharing the story with more people.

Enjoy this chapter!


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SEEING QUENTIN IN MY THURSDAY tutorial class for Biophysics was a relief.

I was glad to have a familiar face around. Viv and I had been in a majority of the same courses over the last three years of college, but this semester our class streams were majorly out of sync. She had afternoons when I had mornings. Breaks when I had classes. Zigged when I zagged.

Quentin typed away on his laptop as I approached him quietly from behind. Coloured lines of code scrawled up a dark screen, and I watched with mild fascination. Earphones shoved in, Quentin's programming completely absorbed him.

I reached out and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He gave a slight jolt, before removing one earphone and twisting to face me.

"Krista." He nodded calmly. "You're in this tutorial class?"

"No, I like to come to roast Grant," I quipped, sliding into the empty seat beside Quentin. "He's my arch-nemesis."

The tutor, Grant, was eighty years old and very polite. In his introduction, he said he wanted to teach until he dropped dead. Didn't look too far off, going by wrinklage. Quentin took one look at him and let out a breathy exhale, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"Funny."

"So, Quen— can I call you Quen?" Quentin nodded with a curious glint in his eye, so I continued, "What's the code for?"

"A programming project," he explained, hitting Control and then S on his keyboard. He shut the lid, facing his torso to me. "I'm an Engineering major. I want to go into software engineering."

"Why are you doing Biophysics then?"

Quentin rubbed the back of his neck and craned his head, the tendon there flexing slightly. My eyes darted quickly back to his face when he turned his gaze to me. "I am also a Physics major. If software doesn't pan out, I will go into academia. Double major."

"Yikes."

Academia sounded like the most crusty field to me. What was the point of theorising all day long? I wanted to get into my industry, be hands-on, make tangible differences.

"Fancy. Be sure to let me know when you receive the Nobel."

Grant finally managed to get the projector up and running, his summary slides of the lecture content hovering on the whiteboard. He started asking the class if anyone had questions about this week's content. Hands began to rise, but the queries were all about concepts that I solidly understood.

Quentin also seemed unconcerned, as he continued our conversation. "I am hardly that good. What are you studying?"

"I'm Pre-Med."

Quen's eyebrows raised.

"Now that's fancy." Then he amended, "Expensive, at least."

I shrugged and pulled open my laptop, ready to type down anything new or relevant the tutor said. Medicine was an ambitious career. It took a lot of planning, commitment, and resilience. The study would take a lot of brainpower, the tuition would take a lot of money, and at the end of the day there was still no guarantee it would go anywhere.

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