Rosario had different scripts for this question. They're fine, for her mom, who lately always seemed to ask with that gentle hitch in her voice that said she was trying to tread lightly. They were fine, it was everything else that was a mess – omens and faeries and old divination books that made no sense, to say nothing of the Apollo of it all – but Ma didn't know about any of that, so of course she thought it was school that was making Rosario tense and sleepless. They're fine, Rosario would say, and to prove she wasn't bullshitting, Did I tell you I got an A on my last paper? or My study group's real helpful.
They're great! she would tell her abuela's friends with a plastered-on smile, feeling like she had to match the enthusiasm with which they'd asked. They exclaimed over how clever she was, called her lista and trabajadora, so she tried to give them the answer she thought they were expecting: yes, it was a lot of work, but she was enjoying the challenge.
But Cathal, she answered with a more ambivalent shrug. "They're okay. I'm starting my first clinical rotation in the spring. It's where they put us in hospitals, like for practical experience. It's gonna be intense, I think." There was a hitch in her own voice on that last word, not unlike her mom's, because what she was really thinking was I have no idea if I can do this. Study was one thing. She was good at study; lab work, too. But dealing with real-life patients? It was the thing she'd been working towards this whole time, but she still didn't feel prepared for it.