Always

Chapter Fourteen

Mia

The campus is bigger than I imagined.

Tall glass buildings. Students walking with purpose. Conversations about research and internships and futures that feel immediate and real. As I step out of the car, my nerves spike—but so does something else.

Excitement.

“This is it,” my mom says gently.

I nod, clutching my folder a little tighter.

Inside, everything moves quickly. Check-in desk. Name tag. A waiting area filled with other students who look just as driven—and just as terrified—as I feel.

For a second, doubt creeps in.

What if I’m not enough?

My phone buzzes in my hand.

Liam: You’re already the smartest person in that building.

A breath I didn’t realize I was holding finally releases.

I type back: You’ve never seen the building.

Three dots appear instantly.

Liam: Doesn’t matter.

I smile despite myself.

When my name is called, my heart starts pounding so loud I’m sure everyone can hear it. I walk into the interview room, shoulders back, chin lifted—like Liam once told me to when I was nervous before a presentation in sophomore year.

The questions come steadily. Why medicine? Why this program? Where do you see yourself in ten years?

I answer honestly. About wanting to help people. About long nights studying because the human body fascinates me. About not being afraid of hard work.

About leaving my comfort zone.

By the time it’s over, I don’t know if I nailed it. But I know I didn’t shrink.

Back in the car, my mom squeezes my hand. “I’m proud of you.”

But the first person I call is Liam.

He picks up on the second ring. “Well?”

“I survived.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I laugh. “I think it went well.”

There’s a pause—and then the relief in his voice is unmistakable. “I knew it would.”

The drive home feels different. Not because I know the outcome—I don’t. But because I stepped into something bigger than fear.

When we pull into our driveway hours later, Liam is there. Sitting on the hood of his car like he’s been waiting all day.

Maybe he has.

I step out, and before I can say anything, he’s walking toward me.

“You look taller,” he says.

“Shut up.”

He grins, then searches my face carefully. “You okay?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

And I am.

Because no matter what happens next—acceptance, rejection, distance, change—I know something steady is still here.

Not holding me back.

Just standing beside me.

Ready for whatever comes next.