Chapter 6
Sunday 8:33 a.m.
The bright light of the early morning sun shines in through my windows and slowly wakes me, leaving the dream world behind.
I open my eyes but then close them quickly. Too bright. I blink a few times again and take a deep breath. For a moment, I’m disoriented.
What day is it?
Is there something I should be doing?
Ah, Sunday . . .
Sunday! Time to check the experiment!
I get out of my bed, walk to the window, and open the curtains, letting even more light in. My window is just behind a tree. In summer, I have a pleasant shade behind the green blanket of leaves, but in winter, the sunshine finds its way through the brown wooden skeleton and lights up my apartment with brightness.
I open the window and freezing air rolls into the room, covering the floor with a frosty layer. I shiver.
I quickly close the window. Yes, I’m awake.
After my usual bathroom routine, I decide to grab a croissant and latte macchiato at Jimmy’s Coffee Shop rather than eating at home. I dress warmly and leave my apartment.
I pointedly look at the floor as I pass Sam’s door, deliberately ignoring it.
You don’t need it, girl! You don’t need any of it.
Only once I’m at the elevator do I raise my head and breathe out.
It takes me less than fifteen minutes to reach the institute, including the detour to get my breakfast.
I park the car not too far from the side entrance of the campus, pick up the small paper bag and plastic cup, then walk the dozen feet to the high metal fence. In the middle is a rotating gate and, right next to it, an identification scanner.
My ID card is hooked on the belt loop of my jeans, so I push my hips up and to the side to reach the scanner. It’s a very awkward move; I’m trying to balance a large latte macchiato in my right hand and a paper bag with a chocolate croissant in the other. The automatic door finally clicks and releases, so I push it with my butt, walking backward until the door rotates half a circle and I’m inside.
If anyone’s watching me right now, they must be having a blast.
But the campus is empty and I walk between the buildings to get to the back door of my institute.
Once I am inside, I stop for a moment and melt into the warmth. I take a sip of my coffee and then call the elevator. I know what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to pretend that I’m calm, that I’m not hugely excited to see if the experiment worked, that I’m just simply passing by, checking something unimportant.
I look up, following the small bulbs on the top of the elevator door designating the floors, and it seems to me the elevator is slower than usual.
Once the door opens, I rush inside and press the button for the fourth floor.
The door closes. Slowly. Again.
I press the button again.
Okay, I’m not calm at all.
I’m super extra excited!
And right in the middle of these thoughts, another one comes, unexpected and completely unavoidable.
Sam.
Despite myself, I can’t escape remembering all that happened yesterday. How he caught me, how the hold was so strong I was left breathless. And how I felt safe, trapped tightly in his arms.
A tingly feeling appears in my stomach and bubbles up to my heart, speeding my pulse up a notch or two.
There’s something about him . . .
What is it?
The bell rings and the elevator opens, bringing me back to now.
Right. Experiment. That’s my top priority.
I first head to the office. I leave the paper bag on my desk and take another sip of macchiato, then I turn around and walk to the laboratory.
Every step is faster than the one before, and by the time I reach the lab, I’m practically running.
I stop at the entrance and take a deep breath, propping myself against the doorframe. There are three sets of lab desks and mine is the middle. From here I can even see the small incubator under my desk.
But you can’t see through it, so move it, and check your experiment!
Without looking at it, I grab my lab coat hanging on the lab door and put it on, pulling my hair free with my hand as I walk to my desk. I take a pair of latex gloves from my pocket, still staring at the incubator door.
Nope, you still can’t see through it!
Once my gloves are on, I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a second. Then I swallow, kneel, and grab the handle. But I stop. I keep holding it, feeling the anxiety settling in.
What should I change if it didn’t work?
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
You’ll think of something. Now—open up!
I open the door and peek in. The area inside is dark, and I can’t see if there are any bacteria growing in the Erlenmeyer flasks or not. So I stop the rotation and grab the neck of the flask closest to me and slowly pull it out.
As soon as I see it, my shoulders sag.
Oh, no . . .
It feels like gravity has suddenly changed, and my whole body feels heavier than before. The food medium is murky and unclear.
There’s got to be millions of bacteria growing in there, which means that my blocker didn’t work. And I had such high hopes . . .
I look at the flask again. Wait! I turn it around to see the label.
This is the negative control! This should have bacteria growing!
I put the flask on the top of my desk, then lean in and pull the neighboring flask out of the incubator.
My breath locks up and my heart seems to stop.
The food liquid I am looking at is crystal-clear.
It . . . worked?
“It worked!” I squeak, jumping up and down. “It worked, guys,” I say again, looking around the lab.
But I’m the only one here.
I look back at the clear liquid in the bottle and smile again, resting a hand on my chest, feeling my drumming heart. “I can’t believe it . . . wow . . . it worked . . . it worked!”
I kneel again and check the flask with the other concentration.
The same result: the reagent worked here too. In both concentrations, the presence of the reagent—the blocker protein—inhibited the bacteria from growing.
This is absolutely fantastic! Oh, David is going to flip out. I know it!
I take the negative control and the two flasks with reagent to the laminar hood to check for optical density. I need to make sure that nothing grew, that not even one cell division took place.
I set the correct OD value and the spectrophotometer confirms my result.
It really, seriously, actually worked!
I flop onto an empty lab chair, smiling from ear to ear.
It worked.
We’ll sell this high. This is going to the top journals. I’m sure of it.
I take another deep breath and look once again at my experiment.
That’s what I needed.
That is my ticket to the a head position.