Virulent

Chapter 2: Chance

Ezra faced the closed doors to the lecture theatre with dread. Shit, she was late. Again. She glanced at her watch. 9:15 AM. Fifteen minutes late.

Should I go in? Should I not?

She chewed her bottom lip. She hated going in even five minutes late. All those beady eyes watching her as she entered, apologised, then made the walk of shame, climbing the nearest stairs in the nearest aisle, all the way to the empty seats at the back of the theatre. Feeling not only the students' eyes following her silently on her march, but the professor's as well.

Stupid people who couldn't get out of the way! Ezra's eyes burned with tears. Today was a lecture she'd been looking forward to. Last time, Professor Archer had teased that this was a lecture 'not to be missed', especially for those who wanted an opportunity of a lifetime to learn from the best in the field. Him. She didn't know what it meant, but she wanted a chance to know what that opportunity was, at least. Her family needed it—good things—any good thing.

The only time she'd ever directly interacted with the Professor despite volunteering at his labs were the days he came in and asked them to debrief him on the cultures they grew and tracking their health. This was her chance to impress him, to stand out. She was the best in their batch—best among all those sitting there in the theater, rapt in one of his thrilling talks. It wasn't her who said it. It was her near-perfect scores every time.

What do I do?

All weekend, she had been reminding herself not to miss this one lecture. I need to be in there. Yet, she stood, staring at the closed door with an uncomfortable feeling twisting her insides. If it weren't for people walking like sloths in front of her, blocking her quick descent down the platform stairs and a dash to the tram outside the station, she would have made it.

Just head in, Ezzie! Her dad's voice softly encouraged in the back of her mind. You've seen people enter the theater half an hour late, and the world didn't end. You can do this. Just close your eyes and walk in. Maybe you haven't missed it, whatever he was about to say.

You've got this, darling girl. From nowhere, Mamma's voice cooed as well, and Ezra felt her heart flutter in want.

"I can do this!" She balled her fists and nodded, her heart hitching to her throat with dread. She reached for the handle, counting down from ten. At one, she'd pull it and enter. "Ten," she began whispering. This was the only way she could get herself over her anxiety and do something that made her nauseous. Lucky thing she had had little to eat.

"Excuse me!" A student barreled down the hallway, pushing Ezra out of the way and bursting into the theater. "Sorry! Sorry!" she could hear his faint voice through the door. "Bus was late."

See! Dad's voice cajoled. Right on his heels, as if you got off the same bus.

Ezra breathed out slowly and reached for the door despite wanting to throw up. She pulled it open and stepped in.

When the Professor and the entire theater stopped to look at her, she froze, the heavy door hitting her backpack and pushing her forward.

The word 'sorry' choked her, and she felt her cheeks flush. All she managed as she met Professor's quizzical gaze was to breathe out the word, "Bus," as if it explained her disruptive arrival.

Professor Archer's brows furrowed ever-so-briefly before he turned back to the theatre and continued with his lecture on cell mechanics, pointing at what looked like an image of the Ebola Virus on the projector screen with his laser pointer. "As I was saying..."

Ezra took his continuation as a dismissal and quickly scurried to the back of the theatre, hoping the distance would help her gain her composure. She quietly slipped out a notebook from her bag and a pen, ready to scribble notes while the theatre-full typed away on fancy PCs or recorded the lecture using various other devices.