#sphfansonly: A story for a niche audience.
The slender young blonde's name was Julie. Dr. Julie M. Netten, to be precise, holder of a newly minted degree in medicine from the University of Washington. A placard framed in black plastic and hastily tacked to the wall behind her desk early yesterday morning confirmed this in bold italic script to all comers, her signature flowing freely in blue pen beyond the designated line. But it hadn't sunk in yet. At this point in time she had been a doctor all of four days since passing her boards and had worked diligently at her first post for only a day and a half.
You are looking at the head doctor for the Bergen Harris High School in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, she thought to herself, still dazed from the past week of her life's transition. The office was lightly furnished and plain, with a door behind her leading to the small examination room, and she sat at her desk surveying it with chin cradled in hands. How did she get here, she wondered. What happened to the fast track?
She was exceptionally young for a licensed doctor at twenty-four. It came from being the youngest in her class as far back as kindergarten, graduating from her own high school in Seattle at age seventeen, then enrolling in the combined seven-year undergraduate-MD program which she powered through nonstop. The past years, aside from one internship in New York and another in Tempe, Arizona, had been a heads-down grind up there in Washington to prove something to herself. Or maybe it was to prove something to her parents, both of whom were successful professionals. When the choice came for her first post after school, she surprised herself and her peers by responding to the pleas of a motivational guest speaker: yes, she picked the cause of rural America. Help close the gap for access to medicine in all parts of the country. Plus, the desire to have an adventure beyond the confines of the Pacific Northwest beckoned after so many years in one place.
Now she wasn't so sure. All day yesterday and today she had run physicals for the girl's field hockey team. They were nice kids, if ordinary, and it could be argued she was doing some good for the world—she had talked to most of the girls about birth control and written a few prescriptions—but the novelty had worn off and doubts about the lack of intellectual challenge in this role were more than just creeping in. They were pounding at the door.
Well, she sighed, and ran a familiar soothing refrain through her mind: doctors are mobile professionals. Her father often said it. All I have to do is work here for a while, maybe a year or even a few months, and then take up a more interesting post that catches my eye. Possibly something even more middle America than Baton Rouge to pursue the rural savior dream, or head to a larger city or even go international. But that's for another time to decide, she thought; for today I am done taking medical histories, temperatures, and physical exams, and ready for some of that famous southern cooking I heard so much about.
A gentle knock at the door surprised her, and a young man's head poked in cautiously.
"Hello, ma'am. I'm Jake Purcell. Is this the doctor's office?" When Julie didn't answer immediately he added, "The lady at the front desk said to come down here."
She greeted him at the door, glancing at the clock. "Yes, yes. Come in, please. Sorry, I was distracted and forgot about the five o'clock." He was an attractive young man, her next and almost forgotten last patient. "It's been a steady stream of field hockey players all day."
He smiled nervously and entered the room, not looking at her but instead down at the floor between them. Julie eyed him curiously. Fit, athletic, and wearing jeans and a high school letter jacket with a large embroidered B-H over a white t-shirt. Quite a handsome boy, like out of a Hollywood movie. And shy, it seemed. A senior, she now remembered from the school secretary's earlier notes.
"Can't say I play field hockey, ma'am. I need the physical for football. I missed it last week with Dr. Adams." He still hadn't looked up at her. His body rocked gently back and forth as he stood in front of her. "I was traveling for the debate team."
"Debate team?" said Julie, surprised. "Not what I expected." She said it with a smile, but immediately realized what she had implied and flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, that's my error. I shouldn't have assumed a football player wouldn't also be an academic."
"It's okay, it's true, I am kind of a nerd." He looked up at her then and flashed a crooked smile. "The guys on the team give me shit about it but I don't mind. I'm the back-up quarterback, and that kinda kicks some ass."
Her stomach flipped when his eyes met hers; it was a struggle to keep her face from betraying a reaction. This was her job now, she was a working woman and must act like a professional. But where was this guy when she was in high school just a few years ago? Attractive, friendly, smart, confident. And those blue eyes set below lush, dark eyebrows. She was only six years older than he, but told herself that she must remain the doctor and he the patient. She cleared her throat and shook her head in an attempt to stay even keeled, but he didn't notice.
"Besides, Bo is my bud. He and I look out for each other. If anybody talks trash about the debate team or the other thing, he's in their face."
"Bo?"
"Yeah, the other Jake. Jake Beauchamps. Most popular guy in the school. Funny that we're both named Jake, the two quarterbacks, right? And best friends since we were babies. Our moms are like this." He held the fingers of one hand together tightly. "He's the starter, gonna play for LSU next year, lucky guy—college scouts are already out at practice. Maybe they'll give me a look too, you never know?"
When Julie heard him pronounce Jake's last name as Bo-Champs, she imagined one of the original French Territory settlers rolling over in his grave. "And what's the other thing you mentioned? That people talk about?"
"Oh nothing, I meant . . . just any other thing." Jake paused and looked uncomfortable. "Bo's always right there for me. You know, Mary Sue used to date him, back in 9th grade. That was the only time we ever fought. But now she's my girl and we're good again."
Julie nodded. He seemed nervous to be here in the doctor's office; she judged that he normally was the strong silent type and wouldn't be such a gabber. Was she doing anything in particular to set him off? Anything other than being an attractive twenty-four year old female doctor about to give him a physical exam, that is? She laughed silently to herself when she thought of it that way. Maybe that's all it was.
"Did you see Mary Sue today?" he continued. Julie's expression remained blank. "You said you saw all the field hockey girls."