Jemma Simmons tightly grips her acceptance letter in her fist, a bright smile fighting its way across her face.
"Be cool," She thinks to herself, "Don't want to embarrass yourself on the first day…"
The steps to the school are a bleak grey, and in her mind, the red-brick building seems to tower over her, diminishing her tiny frame. She straightens up, drawing herself up to her full, nineteen-year-old height, and takes the first step.
When nothing implodes, and she doesn't self-combust, she releases her breath and walks up the rest of the steps more confidently. She swings her bag forward, stuffing her letter into her bag. She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, and she plasters on a confident grin, marching into the building.
She doesn't know why she's so nervous, she did this the first time around with earning her first and second PhD, she doesn't know why she gets butterflies her third time around.
She's not earning a PhD this time, maybe that's why she's so nervous. She hoped to get an actual MD, and perhaps teach at an university or become a doctor. Or maybe work in a crime lab, that's always been a fantasy of hers.
A long, wide hallway greets her, and many women and men, older women and men, are rushing back and forth. She stumbles a bit as she makes her way through the hallway.
"The second right then a left," her dorm floor supervisor had said.
Jemma followed the directions, and soon found herself at her destination.
She pushed open the door hesitantly, grinning when the room was only half-full. She'd have hated if everybody had turned to stare at her because she was late.
She sat down at the front, eager and ready to learn.
The teacher, (Mr. Helm, tall, thin, and white) is followed by a man wearing a black suit and glasses.
"Students," Mr. Helm begins, "I know you wouldn't like to start off your first semester with an evaluation, but it will not count on your grade and is just to see where you are in the class."
He hands out thick packets of paper to each of the students, and Jemma dives into her bag for a pencil.
She's the first to finish.
She hands in her test, and the teacher raises an eyebrow but dismisses her, citing that she could leave and hands off the test to the man in the suit.
She nods, and shuts the door quietly behind her.
She thinks nothing of it, until she gets a call three days later.