If love was Strange

About a year ago,

"The elevators don't work.

I'm standing here with a really heavy box, and it's making my knees wobble. I'm not happy about it. There are signs on the elevators saying they're not working, and they have yellow and red stripes on them. I have to take the stairs. It's so frustrating.

I could almost cry. Do you know how many floors I have to climb to get to my temporary office in the United States? It's eight floors. My poor legs.

I try to open the door to the stairwell, and luckily, my colleague and best friend Laura catches up with me. She says, "I'll get it," and lets me go in first. "You could've waited for me." She flips her long, bouncy blonde hair over her shoulder.

I tell her, "You were taking forever in the line."

She shrugs and says, "I needed my morning coffee," as she walks ahead while I'm still struggling with the box. "I go for coffee every morning, Maddy."

I reply, "You have a kettle in your office."

She laughs and says, "The barista is attractive."

I roll my eyes. She's been saying the same thing since we got here four days ago."

By the time we reach the eighth floor, I'm wheezing, and in desperate need of an inhaler. I don't know how many times I stopped to drop the box and catch my breath, but Laura seemed like she could go another eight floors. I guess she does work out every day, unlike me.

She's been my roommate since we met in college at eighteen, and we've never really been able to separate since. Nearly a decade of putting up with her wild ways, and still going.

I follow her into her office that's ten times bigger than my own, finally settling the box on her desk. I have my own space, the small, cold office that doesn't have a view of the world like hers does.

Well... a view of ponds and busy roads. I stare at a stone wall while I work.

"How many are coming to the meeting?"

"Seven," I reply. "I managed to persuade the top specialist from Great Ormond Street Hospital to come speak about the case. Oh, and two from Delaware showed interest and wanted to attend."

She whistles. "You did good. No one would take the case for over a year until you joined the team. It's been a blessing to have you with us instead of down in the labs. You thrive more."

The transfer had been a big step for me, but I think I was one more genetic test away from blowing up the entire lab. Day after day it had been the same. I wanted more. I wanted to make a difference. Laura told me there was a position opening up for a clinical scientist with experience in genetics, and I'd been in the labs for too long. I applied. And yep, I somehow impressed them enough that I got the job.

And it's been hard, don't get me wrong, the change of scenery and the workload caught me off guard. But I'm here, and like Laura just said, I'm thriving.

When I took over the Janet Ross case, we had traveled to numerous countries to discuss possible trials for her illness, or to at least find a diagnosis, but after failure after failure, a doctor here in Florida accepted.

"Okay, we have three minutes," she says, staring at her watch. She claps once. "You ready?"

I shake myself, taking a long, deep breath. No, I'm definitely not ready. "Yep."

My best friend can see right through me.

She grasps my wrists, holding them up to her chest. "You've got this. You're smart. You're professional, and you care. Don't think about them all being older, or that they have more experience. You fight for what you believe in and don't allow anyone to talk down to you because of your age. You understand? Your research is spot on, you've done everything properly, and I'll be surprised if it gets refused."

I nod once. "I understand."

But the lump in my throat is growing. I swallow it down, reminding myself of that beautiful smile from the most precious girl in the world.

I need to do this for her.

All the specialists are way older than me, and sometimes it can be daunting and nerve-wracking, especially when they try to dominate the room and talk down to me.

The conference room is blindingly bright, so much so that I struggle not to screw my eyes shut. Ceiling-to-floor windows span two walls of the corner room. And the heat? Horrific.

It's raining back home because it always rains in Scotland. Even in Summer, it's pissing down and cold.

We sit at a large, dark, oval-shaped table, paperwork covering nearly every inch of the wood. Assistants, nurses, doctors, and specialists fill each chair.

No one looks at us as we take our seats.

No one speaks, not even when the doctors from other areas walk in, sitting across from us, beside them, two others drop down, and I have no idea who they are.

Young like me. They're well dressed, and look confident. Dare I say handsome?

Dare you not.

I cross my legs at the knees, place my folder in front of me, and open to the front page. One of the young lads lifts his head, pale green eyes on Laura while she frowns at her paperwork.

"Did you bring all of the..." Laura stops her words as soon as the door opens, silence filling the room.

The specialist doctor here at Nemours Children's Hospital enters in powerful strides that make my spine tingle. To say I'm terrified is an understatement. But I can't show that I am.

I clear my throat, grabbing everyone's attention. This is the third time I've stood in a meeting like this and fought for this child's life. Maybe this meeting will be positive and I'm not shut down for not having the experience most of them have.

"Thank you for coming today," I announce, painting a confident smile on my face.

I begin by discussing with a few of the staff about other patients that are here in the hospital, how their treatment has impacted their quality of life, and my exact reason for reaching out.

I try to keep my chin up, my back straight the same way Laura is, as I address the main doctor at the top of the table, Doctor Logan. He wants to say a few words regarding my research and my palms sweat as he stands from his seat.

He clears his throat to grab everyone's attention. "This is quite a peculiar case that we've been looking into for some time. Remarkable work that you've done here." I remain passive, waiting for the blow to land like I've been expecting. He tells the room of my work, and my achievements in such a short time, and nods to me before taking his seat again. "I believe each of you has statements to make over the next few days before the arrival of Miss Ross."

Wait, no.

"Oh, sorry," I say before he can continue. And everyone looks at me. "Aren't we looking into the information before instructing the patient to travel here? It would seem unnecessary if she were to come all the way from Scotland, only to be told that the trials aren't compatible with what she needs. She's currently wheelchair-bound and arrangements need to be made regarding her stay."

"I know that. Please have the patient brought here by Friday. I've had a specialist from China look into her case, and he believes that there is a strong match."

"They think she is compatible?"

"Yes," is all he replies, his eyes challenging me.

I sit back on my chair, crossing my legs under the table.

Laura shifts beside me.