No, I said, sighing, just long.
He chuckled. I totally feel you on that one. Though hopefully these kinds of days will be behind us soon.
Here’s hoping.
Speaking of which, he said, sitting on the edge of his desk, do you happen to have a bit of time over the next day or so to look through my report ? As a second set of eyes, you know, to poke holes, ask questions, point out where things aren’t flowing properly, or my conclusions don’t seem strong enough.
Though I could’ve declined, busy with my own work, I knew his defense was set a few weeks earlier than my own, and I didn’t want to leave him hanging. Plus, I was very likely going to need his same expertise when it came to reviewing my report.
Yeah, I should, I replied. If you send over the file, I can take a look tonight and leave my comments.
Thanks, Lia, he said, looking down at his phone as he pulled up the file on there and shared it. There, all sent.
Turning back around to my screen, I moved the mouse over to my email tab and sure enough, there was a new message giving me access to his report. Got it.
Great, thanks again, and I promise I’ll repay the favor when you need it.
My lips curved slightly as I looked back over my shoulder and saw him leaving. Noted.
And while I very well could’ve begun packing up to head home myself, I figured I might as well take a peek at his report to see how much work I was in for tonight.
And if it could be done with wine.
Opening the file, my eyes widened when I saw the report was a whopping eighty-three pages, though as I scrolled quickly to the bottom, luckily, more than half of those made up the appendices. Forty wasn’t horrible, especially because I saw more than enough graphs and tables taking up a sizeable amount of space.
Going back to the top, I took a quick look at his results section, intrigued by the way he’d laid out his research. In no way was I looking at them with the critical eye that was needed, that is, until I briefly glanced over the graphs for one of his spotlighted findings. Findings I’d reviewed with him before. Though seeing the results in this new form immediately had the gears in my mind turning.
The way two of his successful experiments for creating cellular metabolism began using cells with very similar characteristics to a pair of cells I’d created artificially.
Clicking back over to my own research to confirm my suspicions, a new hypothesis began to form. With my brain working overtime, I barely had a spare second to think about my actions as I leaped out of my chair and made my way to Professor Klein’s office, hoping she hadn’t already left for the day.
Luckily, she was seated behind her desk and as I skidded to a stop in her office doorway, she lifted her head with a quizzical expression. Lia, anything I can help you with ?
Yes. No. I don’t know, I said in a rambling fashion before taking a moment to breathe. Well, the thing is, I was just reading through Miles’ draft report and one of his experiments caught my eye. As I talked through the rest of my ideas-explaining the brief results I’d seen in Miles’ work, how they could possibly link up to my own research, and my preliminary suggestions about how the processes could be modified to fuse together-I paced the length of her office. Step after step, my words continued to flow, and when my spew of thoughts came to an end, I turned to Professor Klein and waited for a response.
That… could be a big discovery, Lia, she said, clasping her hands together atop her desk. If you’re correct, that could be a huge step forward for this department. How sure are you on this ?
I can’t say for certain yet, but my guess would be 75-80%. If I can reproduce the same type of cells using some of the top methods I’ve researched, and then link those cells to the beginning of his metabolic tests in the lab with satisfactory results, I believe we’ll be able to build more comprehensive strategies off those results and move closer toward fully functioning synthetic cells.
Then I’ll recommend to the department that your defense be moved back until the end of April, she said. Picking up a pen, she wrote down a quick set of notes on the notepad in front of her before meeting my gaze again. You’ll have an extra five weeks to prepare some preliminary findings for this theory of yours, and if you can get lab results to prove it, well, let’s just say the chances the department decides to keep you on and offer you the lecturing position increase monumentally.
Understood.
This was it. The chance I needed to prove to both myself and the department that I was the right fit to stick around and continue my work with the university. It certainly wouldn’t be easy, and would likely mean countless late nights over the next month and extra work on the weekends to get these experiments done on time, but I’d do it.
I had to do it.
As a woman in STEM, even with the strides made over the last decade, there were only a limited amount of opportunities available. So when one came along, there was no other choice but to grab it and hold on with all your might.
When I arrived home, there was a sense of excitement in my chest. A giddiness at what tomorrow would bring, but all it took was one phone call from Esme to turn my mood on its head.
Did you see ? she’d asked, almost nervously.
See what ?
The hockey headlines.
And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. The trade deadline.
My research and new ideas had completely consumed my afternoon. So much so that I hadn’t glanced at my phone since hanging up with my mom, and sure enough, as I clicked out of the call and opened up Twitter, I saw Boston’s number one trending topic was about the Knights.
More specifically, about Derrick.
And as I sank down on the couch, phone in hand, I felt a rough grip squeeze tightly around my heart as my eyes scanned the headline.
DERRICK WELLSLEY HEADS TO LOS ANGELES. NEW ROAD AHEAD FOR THE KNIGHTS.
It hadn’t been a shock that the Knights had moved forward with their plan to trade me, not really, but the way it’d ended up going down-man, was it rough.
The hours had been winding down to the deadline, yet through morning workout, practice, and the team meeting after, not a word came down from the front office. In fact, for a few moments, there’d been a growing bubble of hope that the stress I’d been shouldering the last couple weeks would simply fall away. That there’d be no trade, and nothing would change.
Boy was I wrong.
When the team returned to the locker room after watching game film, the team’s general manager was waiting. Waiting for me. Waiting to rip me from my teammates, and without the decency to pull me aside, he began his address in front of them.
Wellsley, he’d said with a strong and commanding tone, you’ll need to collect your things and say your goodbyes. The Royals are expecting you at their practice facility tomorrow morning, and you’ve got a spot booked on a flight out in four hours. There was no wavering from his side, even as I stood stock still, absorbing his words despite the uncomfortable gazes coming from the guys around me. Your agent has been notified and sent the appropriate information, and we advise you speak with him before meeting with your new team in Los Angeles. And finally, thank you. He offered his hand, and not fully processing, I shook it. Thank you for the work you’ve put into this team the last couple of years. We appreciate it and can’t wait to see your career grow with your new team.