The First Day

The light of dawn filtered softly through the curtains as I opened my eyes. Lindsay was curled up next to me, her breathing calm and warm against my chest. It was the first time we had shared a bed like this, and although we had spent months together at Stanford, something about this moment felt different. Perhaps it was the anticipation of the day ahead, or maybe just the fact that we were in a new place, far from our usual routine.

I glanced at the clock on the nightstand: 7:00 AM. We had little time left to get ready before heading to the hospital. Slowly, I moved to avoid waking her, but she opened her eyes almost instantly, as if she had sensed my movement.

"Good morning," she whispered with a sleepy smile, stretching slightly.

I returned her smile and kissed her gently.

"Good morning. Ready for your first official day at the hospital?"

She nodded, though I could see a flicker of nervousness in her eyes.

"As ready as I can be," she replied, sitting up on the bed.

Before I could respond, we heard a murmur from Olivia's room. At first, I thought she was talking to herself, but soon we clearly made out what she was saying:

"A pleasure to meet you, I'm Olivia Hart, the future most important doctor in the country, innovator in minimally invasive surgeries, expert in instant diagnostics, and probably the person who will save your life someday. Oh, and I'm also a medical fashion consultant because, well, someone has to make scrubs fabulous."

Lindsay and I exchanged an amused glance.

"Do you think she's practicing in front of the mirror?" I asked, trying to contain my laughter.

"Definitely," Lindsay responded, shaking her head. "Only Olivia could turn a simple introduction into an Oscar-worthy speech."

We got out of bed and started getting ready. As I put on an elegant black sport suit with gray details, Lindsay chose a similar outfit: an impeccable white blouse paired with fitted pants that matched my colors perfectly. When we stepped out of the room, Olivia was already in the living room, scrolling through her phone while sipping coffee.

"Finally! I thought you two would sleep in," she said, looking up at us. Then her expression shifted to a mix of disbelief and amusement. "Wow, guys, literally matching outfits. Did you plan this, or is it pure coincidence?"

"We didn't plan it," Lindsay quickly responded, though her tone suggested otherwise.

Olivia burst out laughing.

"Sure, sure. And I'm the Queen of England. Anyway, you two should be careful. Anyone who sees you will think you're designer clothing models. Not exactly the 'normal people' vibe we're going for here."

"It's not that obvious," Lindsay retorted, though her voice sounded less confident than she probably intended.

"Oh, come on, Lindsay," Olivia continued, pointing at our clothes. "Sack's suit screams 'Versace,' and your blouse looks like it came straight off a Paris runway. Literally anyone can tell those are high-end brands. If you wanted to blend in, you should've brought something more… basic."

Lindsay sighed, crossing her arms.

"It's not my fault that everything I own is designer. My parents insist on buying quality stuff. But that doesn't mean I'm going to tell anyone who I am."

"Relax, Lindsay," I said, trying to calm her down. "No one will suspect anything unless Olivia accidentally gives you away."

Olivia pretended to be offended.

"Hey! I'm completely discreet. Well, more or less. Besides, I'm doing my part—look at my outfit."

She gestured to her clothes: dark jeans, a simple cotton shirt, and sneakers.

"Very… normal," I commented, raising an eyebrow.

"Exactly," Olivia said proudly. "I wanted to make sure no one suspects I'm the future genius of medical-fashion innovation. Though I admit it was hard to resist wearing something flashier."

Lindsay rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling.

"Thanks for the effort, Olivia. Though I think we should all remember this isn't a fashion competition."

"I know, I know," Olivia responded, shrugging. "But if you ever need style advice, you know who to call."

We ate breakfast quickly while continuing to joke about our clothing choices. Olivia kept making sarcastic comments about how Lindsay and I looked more like influencer couple material than pre-med students, while we simply laughed at her exaggerations.

At 7:30 AM, we hopped into a taxi headed to the hospital. During the ride, Olivia wouldn't stop talking.

"Do you think they'll give us exciting tasks?" she asked, leaning forward enthusiastically. "Maybe we'll get to help in surgery or something."

"I highly doubt they'll let us into an operating room," Lindsay replied with an indulgent smile. "They'll probably assign us simple things, like organizing files or escorting patients."

"Organizing files…" Olivia repeated, making a face. "Sounds so… mundane."

"It's part of the process," I added. "Everyone starts at the bottom. Even the best doctors began by organizing medical records or cleaning instruments."

Olivia sighed dramatically.

"I guess you're right. But if I end up sorting folders, I'll at least make them look spectacular. You know, for the sake of aesthetics."

Lindsay and I looked at each other, unable to hold back our laughter.

When we arrived at the hospital, the main building loomed majestically before us. It was enormous, with several towers connected by glass hallways that shimmered under the morning sun. The hospital grounds were like a campus unto themselves: expansive gardens with lush trees, ornamental fountains reflecting the blue sky, and strategically placed benches where visitors could rest. In one corner of the complex, a gleaming helipad stood out, ready to receive air emergencies at any moment. The constant hum of helicopter blades taking off and landing added a sense of urgency to the atmosphere.

We entered through the main door, where a large sign read: Sapphire Grove Hospital – Innovation in Every Step . Inside, the lobby was breathtaking: high ceilings adorned with modern chandeliers, polished marble floors, and massive windows that allowed natural light to illuminate every corner. A central fountain emitted a soft murmur, creating a tranquil environment despite the bustling crowd moving around.

"Alright, team," Lindsay said, turning serious for a moment. "Remember: we're here to learn. Be respectful, keep your feet on the ground, and above all, don't mention who I am."

Olivia raised her hand as if she were a child in class.

"I promise to be discreet. Well, more or less."

Lindsay shook her head, though her smile indicated she expected nothing less from her.