The first time Alana met Will it was during a guest lecture she was asked to give on at GWU. Actually it was after the lecture.
She was a newly minted MD/PhD from Georgetown. The MD part had been easy. The PhD part had taken an additional five years of time ten years off her life. She had interviewed hundreds of murderers for her dissertation. She had spent countless hours in prisons and libraries. She had broken up with her fiancé when he couldn't understand why she spent more time with criminals than with him. She pointed out that he was a corporate lawyer and therefore, arguably, a more insidious criminal than the murderers she spent her days analyzing.
That had been the end of that.
She was so nervous that day. It was September, but muggy and oppressively hot in the way that seemed unique to Washington D.C.. It was her first lecture out of the safety of her advisors' classrooms. In fact, one of her advisors had set her up with this lecture series and had plans to attend. Alana had an application in to become part-time faculty and her performance here would factor into the decision.
"You need to prove you can come down from the ivory tower Alana," her advisor had said, only half joking. "You've been cocooned up here too long."
And she had. Surrounded by top minds of medicine and psychiatry and forensics for the entirety of her career; if you could call a lifetime of academics a career.
She had walked into the classroom with her palms sweating and her heart beating in her chest. She couldn't get the computer to work correctly. Why was that? Whenever a lecture began it seemed that she was made entirely of magnets. Once she started, though, she lost herself in the words. The words were familiar and comforting. The authors she cited were like old friends. After it was over she even had a few eager students stop by the podium to ask her questions. Her advisor had told her she did well, but to be sure to prepare as well for next week. She was exhausted and elated at the same time.
Alana packed up her notes and walked up the steps of the lecture hall. She could smell the deodorant from under her suit jacket. She couldn't wait to get home and shower. She had a new IPA she wanted to try, and the shower would be a great place for a first sip. At 27 Alana was still a proponent of drinking beer in the shower. And then a long, long, sleep. She had a colleague covering her clinic this afternoon, so she had no further responsibilities.
And then she met Will. Although she wouldn't know his name for another three months.
"You shouldn't be so nervous," he said.
She jumped a little with surprise; she hadn't seen him and his voice jarred her from thoughts of her air-conditioned apartment. He was sitting at the last table in the lecture hall with notes spread in front of him.
"What?" she asked reflexively, even though she had heard him.
"You shouldn't be so nervous, " he repeated, not looking up from his notes, "you did a good job for your first time."
"It was that obvious, huh?" Alana smiled, and expected the man to look up at her. He didn't. There was a pause that was a little too long before he replied.
"No. Not obvious. I just sometimes notice things that aren't that obvious." He looked up then, and his eyes brushed over hers, not quite making contact before settling someplace over her left shoulder, "I'm sorry, was that rude?"
"Not at all, it was nice. Thank you."
"I can't always tell." His eyes brushed back past hers before settling back on the papers in front of him.
Alana shifted back and forth on her new heels. They were pinching her toes and rubbing the area over her Achilles tendon raw. She didn't like wearing heels. If she hadn't been so distracted, and so tired, she may have been more curious. But she wasn't just then. She was tired of thinking.
"Thanks again. I'll be back next week. Less nervous, hopefully."
The man didn't say anything. It was as if he had forgotten she was there. She didn't take it personally. She started back up the stairs, out of the lecture hall, and back into the oppressive heat before heading down into the bowels of the Foggy Bottom metro station.