Shooting Stars

CHAPTER 75

Aria sat at her desk, flipping through a thick stack of practice questions while absentmindedly spearing a bite of scrambled eggs from the takeout container balanced on her lap. Across from her, Alex leaned back in the chair, coffee in one hand, a breakfast sandwich in the other, flipping through his own test booklet.

"This is miserable," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face before taking another sip of coffee.

Aria smirked. "You say that like you're surprised. We're taking the most important exam of our lives. It's supposed to be miserable."

Alex shot her a look. "Yeah, well, I'd rather be miserable somewhere that doesn't feel like work." He gestured around the office. "We live together. Why are we eating breakfast in your office instead of literally anywhere else?"

"Because if we stay home, you'll get distracted," she countered, flipping to the next page. "At least here, I know you'll actually study."

He scoffed. "I do study."

She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, before pushing her stack of papers toward him. "Alright, then. If you're so prepared, walk me through the management of necrotising enterocolitis in a preterm infant."

Alex groaned but put his sandwich down, glancing at the question. "Okay, fine... bowel rest, IV fluids, broad-spectrum antibiotics, and if there's perforation, you take them to surgery."

Aria nodded approvingly. "Not bad. Maybe you actually have been studying."

Alex smirked. "Told you." He flipped through his booklet and held up a question. "Alright, Dr Grey. A newborn presents with bilious vomiting and a double bubble sign on X-ray. What's the diagnosis?"

She didn't even blink. "Duodenal atresia. You take them to surgery for a duodenoduodenostomy."

"Show off," he muttered, but there was no real annoyance in his voice.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, quizzing each other between bites of breakfast, their usual banter keeping the stress at bay.

"Alright, last one," Alex finally said, stretching back in his chair. "If you get this right, we call it a morning, and I get to pick dinner."

Aria smirked. "Deal."

He flipped to a random page. "A two-year-old with a history of recurrent fractures, blue sclera, and conductive hearing loss. What's the diagnosis?"

"Osteogenesis imperfecta," she answered without hesitation. "Defect in type I collagen production."

Alex sighed, tossing his practice test onto the desk. "Fine. You win."

She grinned, finishing off the last sip of her coffee. "That's what I thought."

He shook his head but smiled, watching as she gathered up their papers. As stressful as boards were, he had to admit—there were worse ways to spend a morning than eating breakfast and studying with her.

Aria stepped out of the OR, tugging off her scrub cap as she made her way toward the surgical board. The case had gone well—textbook, really—but she was still running on fumes. Peds surgeries always demanded a different kind of focus, and she could feel the weight of it in her shoulders as she rolled them back.

Across the board, she spotted Alex leaning against the wall, phone pressed to his ear, his expression dark with frustration. She slowed her pace, watching as he sighed heavily and ended the call before dialling again. When he pulled the phone away from his ear with an irritated scoff, she finally closed the distance between them.

"Hey, where's your study lackey?" she asked, tilting her head.

Alex let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. "Of course, the one competent intern in the whole program just so happens to be pregnant and now needs surgery for a coronary artery dissection."