The Cadet

The Slap

Spock POV

" Have you been here all day?"

I looked up from my papers to see the head of Dr. McCoy poking through my door. I looked down at my small clock, noticing it was a little after noon. I had been here before dawn. As if on cue, my stomach gave an angry growl.

" Yes, it appears I have." I replied, standing from my desk. Due to the weekend, I had spent most of the day marking papers.

" Let's go get lunch, maybe eat outside to enjoy one of the last good days we'll have for a while." McCoy said.

I walked with McCoy to the cafeteria, getting a salad for myself. We settled down on the quad near a human pick-up game called 'soccer'.

I recognized a particular raven-haired girl sprinting across the greens, the ball a few feet ahead. Cadet McLaren kicked the ball, sending it flying into the makeshift goal.

Seeing her made me think of last night, along with her inappropriate questions. I could feel the tips of my ears burning slightly at the memory.

" McLaren. That's a student I'll miss." Dr. McCoy said beside me. " Incredibly intelligent. One helluva spitfire, too."

" She's insubordinate."

" She's Scottish. And you can bet she has the anger of a thousand Scottish men in her blood." McCoy joked, shoving mouthfulls of pasta into his mouth as he turned back to the game.

" She has no accent." I stated.

" Her dad is a Scot. Mom is a good ole American." He explained, not looking at me.

I, too, turned back to the game. Just as McLaren was about to score again, a much larger, male cadet kicked at her feet, sending her flying to the ground, tumbling from the impact.

Without thinking, I stood and marched over to her, ignoring the sideways glances from the other cadets.

" Cadet McLaren. I do not think you should be so careless with yourself. Especially after last night's events." I said, pulling her into an upright position.

" I'm fine, Teach, a little grass on my knees isn't going to kill me." She stated, brushing hair from her face. Her intense green eyes met my black ones, challenging me to say more.

" You will address me as ' Professor' or ' Sir', Cadet." I replied, a small amount of sarcasm seeping into my words.

" With all due respect, Sir" she started with a snarky attitude, " I think I can manage to not kill myself. Have a nice day, Sir." She finished, giving me a mock salute before walking away to join a group of cadets.

I turned back to Dr. McCoy and sat back down, finishing my salad without a second glance at the soccer game.

" You best be careful, Spock. Evelyn will eat you alive if you try to go toe-to-toe with her." McCoy said.

I didn't respond, but simply turned to look at the small woman, who was lifted by another man into the air. She hugged him, a lopsided grin plastered on her face. Something, deep down in the admittedly human part of me, felt a pang of jealousy as McLaren embraced the other cadet.

I stood, said my goodbye to McCoy, and left the quad.

ΩΩΩ

It had been a few days since McCoy and I had lunch, and McLaren had not spoken a word to me since. Time passed quickly during our afternoon detentions.

However, in this moment Cadet McLaren was the most annoying person on Earth.

She sat across from me, twirling a pen in her hands as she hummed a low tune. Her black curls blocked my view of her face. The regulation blue science uniform hugged her body tightly, a tell-tale sign she probably had gained some weight over the summer. She looked healthy, however, and her form did not look unflattering in the uniform.

" Cadet, if you have nothing else to do then at least make yourself useful." I said, handing her a stack of ungraded first year papers.

She said nothing, but took the papers and started marking them. Moments passed before I finally looked back up at her.

McLaren had her pen trapped between her teeth, her lips slightly pursed. I tried tear my eyes away, but seemed to be mesmerized as she dragged the end of the pen across her bottom lip.

" Take a picture. It'll last longer." She said, glancing up at me. Her green eyes danced with mischief as a blush crept up my neck and peaked at my ears.

" Don't be so crude, Cadet."

" Don't be so creepy, Sir." She countered, a smirk stretching her lips.

Time passed quicker, and my stack of papers got considerably shorter. When we finally finished, it was an hour over McLaren's time.

" You are free to go, Cadet." I said, standing from my desk. " And do try to be less irritating tomorrow."

McLaren stopped and turned around, " You want to know something, Professor?"

" Enlighten me."

" I'm going to be a doctor. Soon. And when you're in trouble, I might be the one helping you. Things can go wrong in the OR. " she said, her eyes bright with a certain kind of fire.

" Is that so, Cadet?" I said, advancing on her. I was so much taller than her. " Because you have to pass my class. And your performance is quite- lackluster." I continued. We were mere inches apart, and what she had said angered me, past Vulcan approval. " Also, Cadet. You might want to stop trying to squeeze into uniforms that don't fit you."

Clearly a mistake.

Her hand met the side of my face, the contact stinging. She glared up at me, her eyes glazed.

Did I make her cry?

" You're a bastard." She said, her voice strong, despite the watery look in her eye.

She turned on heels and marched out of my office fuming. I touched my cheek, surprised to find it sensitive. I don't know what got into me or why I said it. Something about McLaren made me incredibly emotive. I shook my head, silently cursing myself before leaving my office.

ΩΩΩ

Evelyn POV

I stormed down the hall, tears blurring my vision as I fought everything inside of me screaming at me to turn around and give him some more. But I knew I had crossed a line. It was one thing to make snide remarks, but to physically slap a professor was means for expulsion.

Serves the bastard right though.

It admittedly made me feel a little better when his face was full of shock, a bright red hand print imprinted on his cheek.

No doubt he would report me. Get me expelled. All seven years of med school would be a waste. I'd never practice.

I stopped in a rarely used staircase and slid to the floor, a sob racking through my body.

You might want to stop squeezing into uniforms that don't fit you.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to erase the memory, along with several others that resurfaced.

In high school I had been bulimic. The teasing had started at a young age and carried on throughout middle school. I finally had enough, an d turned to bulimia.

It worked-for a while.

Then I couldn't stop throwing up. Even the smallest amounts of food made me sick. So I stopped eating, until not eating hospitalized me.

I pulled out my phone and dialed My'ya's number. She had always been the one to bring me out from these thoughts. She always stopped me from doing something I might regret.

It rang for a few seconds before going to voicemail. I called her again, but had the same result.

I threw my phone down in frustration, shattering the screen. Hot tears ran down my face as I tried to control myself, another sob racking my body.

" Evelyn?"