A story set in the Vampire Academy universe post-Last Sacrifice. The main characters are my own, but the universe belongs to the brilliant Richelle Mead

The air rushed out of me as I landed flat on my back. Again. A freckled face with annoyingly honest blue eyes looked down at me. "I didn't realize it was possible, but I think you've gotten worse," Gil said as he reached down to help me up.

We had just returned from summer break and, in the interest of full disclosure, I will admit I hadn't even thought about combat training over those two months. My dear friend Gilbert Dalton on the other hand had been much more proactive in his training. He had gone to stay with his older brother Tom, who worked as a guardian at court. They had sparred often and hard, and Gilbert had learned a lot.

"Hey, I'm not actually getting worse, I just look worse to you after spending a few months sparring with that badass brother of yours." I pointed out.

"That may be true," he admitted, "but that was still pretty pathetic." I scoffed in mock hurt, but Gilbert wasn't joking anymore. "I'm serious Meg, if you can't get a lot better at this by the end of the year, you won't have a snowball's chance in hell of passing your trials."

"Gil, I don't actually care about trials, since I'm not all that interested in becoming a guardian," I said.

As usual though, he saw the error in my logic. "If you don't become a guardian, how else are you going to go to college?" The bastard had a point. Growing up in the vampire world, I'd never had a need for things like a social security number, a birth certificate, or any other human proof of, well, existence. As a guardian to a Moroi my own age, the court would provide me with falsified records so I could accompany them to college and protect them. It wasn't a perfect solution, since I would still have a full time job looking after some spoiled Moroi snot while taking classes, but it might be the only chance I would ever get of making it to med school.

For as long as I can remember, science has been my passion. When other Dhampirs my age were learning to fight and dreaming about killing Strigoi, I was more interested in pouring over the battered old copy of Grey's Anatomy that had been my father's. He had been an amazing doctor, involved with cutting edge research in Vampire biology. He was the first person to karyotype Moroi and Dhampirs, discovering that, unlike humans, Moroi had 24 pairs of chromosomes. Dhampirs have the normal 23 pairs that come standard issue in humans, but we also have one unpaired extra, that my dad hypothesized was the source of our enhancements. People said that he and my mom never would have lasted, since most Moroi men end up settling down with Moroi women, but they never had a chance to find out. Both of my parents perished in a Strigoi attack when I was just a baby. I'd found that book in my grandparent's hall closet when I was 8, and after learning that it was my dad's I started carrying it everywhere I went. I guess it made me feel close to him or something. Anyway, I still read and reread that book. Maybe part of the reason I want to be a doctor so badly is that my dad was one too, but mostly I just really love biology. My whole life I've been questioning everything, and I spend every spare second I have reading medical journals and science articles.

Unfortunately spare seconds have been hard to come by lately. Senior year was crunch time, even for those of us who weren't really interested in guardian training. After class ended, Gilbert and I walked toward the cafeteria. I couldn't stop thinking about what he had said. I had honestly never thought about how my lack of documentation would affect college, which in hindsight was pretty stupid of me. He was right; my only chance of getting in was to follow some Moroi there. My years of slacking had finally come back to bite me in the butt, because right now there was no way I would pass my trials. I was halfway through my turkey sandwich when I turned to Gil and blurted out, "heygulhuwfarbehunahyouthnkirllym?"

He started laughing at me and teased "Were you raised in a barn? Chew your food!"

I choked down my sandwich and then repeated, clearer, "Hey Gil, how far behind do you think I really am?"

"Pretty damn far, but why do you suddenly care?" He countered.

"Well," I said, "I think you have a point about the college thing. How am I going to get in if not as a guardian?"

Gil frowned, "I'm sure you'll find another way," he said, "I was only kidding before."

"No, you weren't," I said frankly. "Honestly, how far behind would you say I am?" I repeated.

"Please don't hate me for this," he started, "but I think you fight like a child. You've got the smarts to fight creatively, but you don't apply yourself, you're undisciplined, and you're out of shape," he finally admitted.

"If I start training for real now I can fix that though right?" I mused aloud.

"I don't know," Gil replied. "Maybe if you had a lot more practice time and someone to go one on one with then..."

"Would you do it?" I cut him off. "Would you be willing to whip my ass into gear?"

"Of course," he said. "I just don't know how much time I have to spare. Academic grades might not be that important in the Dhampir program, but we still need to pass in order to graduate." As awesome as Gilbert was at the combat and protection side of school, he struggled in his other classes. Personally, I thought he had the reverse of my problem. Gil was wicked smart, but he had no real reason to excel in academics. He was going to be a guardian, so that was what he focused on.

"Then we can help each other." I offered. "You teach me how to fight, and I'll tutor you. That way we both graduate on time. Being held back might suck a bit less if we were together, but it would still be pretty awful. What do you say?"

"You're on," he said. holding out his hand. We shook on it.