The Impact of Childhood Adversities on Criminal Behavior. I wrote this title at the top of my register, underlining it twice for emphasis. This was the topic I had chosen for my final semester capstone research. It felt both daunting and exhilarating to take on such a significant subject. I tapped my pen against the notepad, contemplating the weight of the words I had just written. This would not be an easy journey, but the importance of the research propelled me forward.
As I mulled over the title, Jess, who was sitting beside me, glanced at the notepad and smiled. “That topic sounds very interesting,” she remarked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Do you have any supervisor in mind? There are only a few professors who specialize in forensic psychology, and you’ll need someone with the right expertise to guide you.”
Her question lingered in the air as I considered my options. The university’s forensic psychology department was indeed small, and the competition for supervisors was fierce. I had a few names in mind, but securing their mentorship would require a well-thought-out proposal and a bit of luck. I knew that choosing the right supervisor could make or break my project.
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that,” I replied, a hint of determination in my voice. “I’m hoping to approach Dr. Lawson. He has done some groundbreaking work on the psychological impacts of early trauma, and I think he could offer some valuable insights for my research.”
Jess raised her eyebrow as a slow smirk curled on her lips. "Dr. Lawson, I see," she said teasingly, comically wiggling her eyebrows. I couldn’t help but chuckle and roll my eyes at her playful banter.
Dr. Seth Lawson was indeed a popular figure on campus. He was quite young for someone with his level of expertise, and his striking looks didn't go unnoticed. I knew several girls who had chosen forensic psychology solely to be in his class. Having taken a course with him myself, I understood the allure. Dr. Lawson was not only nice and approachable but also incredibly knowledgeable and passionate about his subject. His classes were engaging, and his enthusiasm was infectious.
Despite his charm, my thoughts rarely wandered beyond the realm of academia when it came to him. My heart and mind were too consumed with Atlas, my long-time love, to see Dr. Lawson as anything more than a dedicated teacher.
Jess’s voice snapped me out of my reverie. "By the way, a lot of girls are trying to get him as their supervisor, but I’ve heard he’s super picky. So, good luck!" she said, her tone a mix of warning and encouragement.
Her words made my heart race a little. I knew Jess was right. Dr. Lawson’s high standards were well-known. Yet, the challenge only fueled my determination. I felt a surge of resolve to prove myself worthy of his mentorship.
After Jess’s classes ended earlier than mine, she headed home while I stayed behind, determined to approach Dr. Lawson and secure him as my mentor. As I made my way to his office, I noticed a small group of girls already gathered outside, each vying for his attention. Some were dressed to impress, their nervous energy palpable in the air. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety as I wondered if I even stood a chance of securing his mentorship amidst such competition.
I took a deep breath and tried to quell the doubts swirling in my mind. Dr. Lawson was my top choice for a mentor. His expertise and guidance were invaluable, and I couldn’t imagine embarking on this research journey without him by my side. Yet, as I waited outside his office, watching the other girls come and go, I couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty. Perhaps Dr. Thompson was a viable alternative, but my heart stubbornly clung to the hope of working with Dr. Lawson.
As the minutes stretched into hours, the crowd outside his office slowly dwindled. Disappointed sighs filled the air as each girl left, their hopes of securing Dr. Lawson’s mentorship dashed. Eventually, I found myself alone, the sole remaining hopeful waiting patiently for his return.
After what felt like an eternity, I heard footsteps approaching. Dr. Lawson appeared in the doorway, his expression a mixture of surprise and mild disappointment. “Oh,” he muttered as he caught sight of me, halting in his tracks.
There he stood, clad in a crisp white-collar shirt and grey trousers, his sleeves casually rolled to his elbows. A couple of buttons on his shirt were left undone, hinting at a long day of lectures and discussions. Despite the signs of fatigue, there was an undeniable magnetism about him, the kind that drew the attention of many, including myself.
I couldn't help but observe him through the same lens that many of the girls on campus did. He was undeniably handsome and effortlessly dashing. Tall and lean, he possessed an air of confidence that was hard to ignore. His piercing blue eyes held a captivating depth, drawing you in with their intensity. A sharp jawline and a slender nose added to his striking features, while a pair of black-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose only added to his allure.
It was easy to see why he had garnered such attention from the female population. With his impeccable looks and undeniable charm, he could have easily stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine.
I rose to my feet, feeling a surge of nervous energy coursing through me. “I thought everyone would be gone by now,” he said, his voice tinged with unexpected disappointment at finding me still there.
Suppressing the urge to falter under his gaze, I offered a tentative smile. "I wanted to make sure I had the opportunity to speak with you, Dr. Lawson," I explained, hoping to convey my sincerity and determination.
He regarded me for a moment, his gaze assessing. Then, with a nod, he gestured for me to enter his office. As I stepped inside, a wave of relief washed over me. The long wait was worth it. Now, it was time to convince him that I was worthy of his mentorship.
My short meeting with Dr. Lawson wasn’t entirely fruitful, but it wasn’t entirely unsuccessful either. I quickly realized that impressing Dr. Lawson would be no easy feat. As soon as we stepped into his office, he asked for my research proposal, and I had to admit I didn’t have one. His expression grew stern.
“Miss Miller, you’ve come here to ask me to supervise your research without a research proposal?” he questioned, his tone edged with disappointment.
I felt a wave of nervousness wash over me. “Umm, Dr. Lawson, I—I’ll be honest with you. I did come without a written proposal, but I have some ideas that I think you might be interested in. If you give me a couple of days, I promise I’ll bring you a detailed proposal,” I suggested, hoping to salvage the situation.
Realizing my mistake, I handed him my notepad, where I had jotted down rough ideas in bullet points. It was a risky move, but I needed to show him that I had something prepared.
He exhaled deeply, his gaze fixed on me for a moment that felt like an eternity. Then, reluctantly, he looked down at my notepad and read through my ideas. After a long pause, he squinted his sharp blue eyes and slowly nodded.
“I’m willing to give you 24 hours. I need you to bring me a research proposal by tomorrow evening,” he said, leaning back in his chair, which squeaked under the movement. “I understand what you have in mind for this research, but I need to see if you fully grasp the concept and can articulate it clearly. If I’m impressed by your proposal, I’ll be your supervisor.”
His words were enough to reignite my determination. I thanked him profusely and promised to bring a complete proposal by the next evening. By the time I left the university, night had already fallen. I got into my car, fueled by a newfound resolve, and drove home with a single focus: to work diligently on my research proposal and prove myself worthy of Dr. Lawson's mentorship.
When I reached home, I was surprised to find Atlas and Eva already there. Atlas usually worked late into the night, so seeing him at home having an early dinner was unexpected. “Oh, hi,” I muttered, unable to hide my surprise.
Eva offered me a warm smile, setting down her fork and knife. “Hi, sorry we’re eating early,” she said with a soft chuckle. “It’s just me. I like to eat early because I’m starting intermittent fasting, so we’re having dinner a bit earlier than usual.”
I forced a smile and nodded, glancing at Atlas. He was barely touching his food, and I knew it was too early for him to be hungry. It hurt to see him making such an effort for her, and I hoped Eva appreciated how lucky she was.
“Hey, want to join us?” Eva asked, her tone inviting. I looked at Atlas, who gave me a polite smile but didn’t extend the invitation himself. Knowing how much he valued his privacy and guessing that he wanted to spend this time with Eva, I politely declined.
“No, thank you. I’m not hungry yet, and I have a lot of work to do,” I replied.
Eva smiled and nodded, resuming her dinner. I turned to head to my room when Atlas’s voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Why are you late today?” he asked. His question caught me off guard, and I turned to face him, knitting my eyebrows in confusion. “I mean,” he quickly added, clearing his throat, “you’re usually home by 4, but it’s almost 7:30 now. Is everything okay?”
It was unusual for him to show such concern, and his question surprised me. “Uh, yes. I needed to find a supervisor for my research, and I was in a meeting with a professor,” I explained.
Atlas nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Okay. Just wanted to make sure everything’s fine.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling a tumult of emotions. It warmed me to see that Atlas cared, but it also stung me to realize that this was likely the extent of our relationship. I didn’t want to intrude on their evening together, and besides, I had my research proposal to focus on.
I quickly excused myself and went up to my room, determined to bury myself in work. I needed to distract myself from the bittersweet reality of Atlas and Eva. Sitting at my desk, I opened my laptop and spread my notes around me. With a deep breath, I channeled all my energy into crafting a compelling research proposal, hoping it would be enough to secure Dr. Lawson's mentorship.
I had a lot to work on. Even though I had a clear idea of what my research would entail, detailing a research proposal was a tough task to complete in a night, and it took me all night. As soon as I returned home, I showered, changed into my cotton shirt and plain pink shorts, tied my hair up in a messy high bun, and got to work.In my room, I have a writing table where I spend hours working on my projects. I sat there, typing away to create a decent research proposal. When my back started to ache, I moved to my bed and continued working from there. I wrote and rewrote countless times, determined not to present Dr. Lawson with a sloppy proposal. He is a perfectionist, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. This was my last chance, and I was giving it my all.Throughout the night, I didn't eat. The house helper came to my room asking if I would be eating soon, but I told her no and asked her to go home. I was capable of heating my own food if needed. While the house helper checked on me,
The next morning, I dragged myself to class feeling utterly worn out and famished. Sleep had been elusive, my mind consumed by perfecting my proposal. I had been so excited about my ideas, but as I pored over them again and again, flaws emerged like cracks in a fragile facade. I was too tired to fix them properly.The idea of facing Dr. Lawson after class made my stomach churn with nerves. What if he didn't like my proposal? The thought of having to redo everything under Dr. Thompson's critical eye made me shudder. Dr. Lawson was the one I wanted to impress, the one who could truly understand and support my research.My stomach growled loudly, a painful reminder of my neglected hunger. I hadn't eaten since who knows when. With my first class not until ten, I had managed to snatch a few hours of sleep before waking up to the presence of Atlas and Eva in the house. I stayed hidden in my room, unable to bear the sight of their affectionate moments. Each glimpse felt like a knife to the h
I fidgeted with the pen in my hand, unable to contain my curiosity. "How did you meet Aaron Torres's brother?" I inquired, my eyes fixed on Dr. Lawson, who was engrossed in reading my revised proposal.He hummed in response, flipping through the pages as he spoke. "I was part of the team of therapists assigned to help him," he replied, his focus still on the document.Intrigued, I squinted my eyes. "And? What else did you learn about him?" I pressed eagerly.Dr. Lawson lifted his gaze and chuckled softly. "Are you truly that interested to know?" he teased, his eyes meeting mine.Without hesitation, I nodded enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across my face. My excitement was palpable, evident in the sparkle of my widened eyes.Dr. Lawson's smile softened as he placed the proposal on his desk. "I can't disclose more information about him," he stated, causing my shoulders to slump in disappointment. I had been so excited, only to have my hopes dashed. I twisted my mouth in frustra
As Atlas mentioned, Eva did leave on Friday, and her absence somehow made me feel free. Since she moved in, I haven't left my room without a reason. I used to enjoy strolling through the garden behind the house, but since she arrived, I've mostly stayed locked in my room. Today, Atlas came home early because he had to drop her off at the airport. He asked if I wanted to join them, but I politely declined. I wasn't going to waste my time dropping her off when I could savor every second of my newfound freedom. Besides, I would have been intruding on their moment. It's bad enough that I live with them. I'm sure Eva didn't want me to go either. She didn't ask me to join them—only Atlas did.I know I’m painting her as the villain in my story, even though she hasn’t done anything to deserve it. She has been nothing but civil to me. It’s me who ignores her. I can’t stand her because she has what I’ve always wanted: Atlas. Knowing that I never stood a chance hurts, and maybe that’s why I harb
I don’t know why I decided to share such an intimate part of my life with Atlas. We have never been close enough to talk about our personal lives and relationships. I never believed Atlas saw me as someone he could confide in, but tonight, for the first time, he opened up about something happening in his life. I felt compelled to share my part as well, but this was not something I should have disclosed. I hadn’t even told Jess, mostly because Patrick is her brother. I had planned to keep this information to myself, and I should have kept it that way. As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I panicked.“Umm, I mean... I... uh,” I stammered, closing my eyes tightly in embarrassment. I exhaled and shook my head, opening my eyes with a chuckle of shame. “You know what? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you that. I didn’t mean to share that piece of news with anyone, and I just... I don’t know. I guess I have trouble keeping my thoughts to myself,” I continued, nervously ranting. I opened my
I watched as he knelt in front of me, carefully cleaning and dressing the wound on my knee. His touch was tender, and his focus unwavering. "This might sting a bit," he warned before applying the antiseptic. As soon as the cotton ball touched the small cut, I hissed and jerked my knee. Atlas’s hand came to my thigh, holding it firmly in place. His cold, wet palm gently squeezed my thigh. "Hold still," he softly instructed.I gulped, watching him kneeling in front of me, completely soaked. His white shirt clung to his body, revealing the contours of his chest and arms. His attention was so keen on my injury, his face so close to my knee that I could feel his warm breath on my skin, sending shivers up and down my legs. When he pressed the cotton ball on the wound again, I hissed once more but didn't jerk my leg this time as he was holding it steady.“It’s okay,” he muttered gently, cleaning the wound with care. It wasn’t a big injury, just a small cut. One swipe and it was clean. After
“This is exactly what I didn’t want,” Jess muttered, her face twisted in annoyance as she and I watched a couple of guys from our class cannonball into the pool. Water splashed everywhere, drenching the people sitting around the edge. Some laughed, some shrieked, and others protested loudly. Jess and I stood in the corner, watching the chaos unfold in her meticulously maintained backyard. Jess, being a bit of a neat freak, was visibly distressed by the mess they were making. I couldn't help but laugh, taking a sip of my lemonade.We stood under the patio umbrella, trying to escape the relentless sun. Jess was wearing a dark blue spaghetti-strap crop top and shorts, with a net shrug draped over her shoulders. I had shed my white sundress and now stood in a yellow bikini top and denim shorts, feeling the heat on my bare skin. Both of us were barefoot, our hair tied up in messy high buns, and we wore sunglasses to shield our eyes from the bright light. Jess took another sip of her lemona
I was still very wasted when Atlas came to get me. Despite my drunken haze, seeing him there surprised me, but at that moment, I was too intoxicated to care much. “Bye, Jess,” I laughingly waved my hand as she snored on the grass. Patrick exhaled heavily, his eyes lingering on his sister. He knew he had a night of cleanup ahead of him.Chuckling to myself, I walked over to Patrick and embraced him in a tight hug. “Bye, Patrick,” I muttered into his ear, feeling a surge of gratitude. “Thank you for today. You’re amazing,” I told him, reluctantly pulling away but keeping my arms around his neck. As he held me by my waist, smiling warmly, I looked up at him. He was perfect—handsome, considerate, and kind. Everything a girl could want in a guy. Yet, why couldn’t we just fall in love with each other? Why did I have to complicate things with feelings for Atlas, the forbidden fruit?Patrick smiled back at me. “No worries, I’m always here for you,” he replied, glancing over my shoulder at Atl