Chapter 8 — The First Heartbeat

Ms. Hoa announced the good news during an activity in the second week of October: the school agreed to lend the Red Cross Club a multi-purpose room on weekend afternoons to organize an intensive practice session, preparing for the basic first aid certification exam that will take place in mid-December.

"This is a good opportunity for students to practice more before the real exam," Ms. Hoa explained. "This certificate is not just to look good on your profile - it is recognized by the city's Red Cross, and many universities, especially in the medical, social, and educational sectors, highly value this certificate when considering admission."

Thien Kim felt a wave of excitement mixed with worry when she heard this news. Real exams, with real judges, with a rigorous evaluation process — this was the first time everything she had learned over the past two months would be officially verified, no longer just internal practice sessions between club members.

The first weekend practice took place on Saturday morning, in a multi-purpose room that was much more spacious than the cramped medical room. Ms. Hoa arranged five different practice stations: CPR, bandaging, splinting, shock management, and a general station simulating real-life situations.

"Today we will rotate through each station in pairs," Minh Vu explained, dividing the list of pairs to practice on the board. Thien Kim glanced at the list, her heart beating a beat faster when she saw her name paired with Minh Vu himself - not a complete coincidence, because she knew that Ms. Hoa often paired members with equivalent qualifications or let more experienced people tutor new people, and perhaps Minh Vu volunteered to tutor her because he knew she needed to practice more carefully for the psychological assessment.

The two started at the CPR station, which has now become a familiar part of Thien Kim's weekly routine. But this time, instead of just practicing individually, they practiced in pairs — one person doing chest compressions, one person giving rescue breaths, working in a perfect thirty-two ratio.

"You give compressions first, I'll give rescue breaths," Minh Vu suggested.

Thien Kim knelt down and began to pump her heart to the rhythm she had mastered, counting each number out loud so that Minh Vu could coordinate at the right time. When she reached the thirtieth time, she stopped, and Minh Vu immediately bent down to perform two simulated breaths on the mannequin, the movements were quick and precise.

"Let's switch roles," he said after completing the first cycle.

They continued alternating like this for about fifteen minutes, working more and more smoothly with each cycle. There is something special about this combination — unlike practicing individually, working in pairs requires a certain level of trust and chemistry, a synchronization between the two that Thien Kim has never experienced with anyone else in the club.

"You know what," Minh Vu said during a break between takes, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. "You're the one who practices with me the best so far. Your tempo and I's almost matched perfectly right from the first time."

"It's probably because I practiced so much that I got used to the standard rhythm," Thien Kim replied, trying to keep her voice normal even though she felt a familiar warm feeling in her heart every time she received a compliment from him.

"Maybe so," Minh Vu smiled, but the look he looked at her was something a little different than the look a teacher gives to a regular student - an attentiveness, a concern that went beyond the scope of simple first aid skills, even though neither of them dared to name it out loud.

At the bandage station, they practice more complex situations: pressure bandages to stop simulated arterial bleeding, immobilization of open fractures, and treatment of penetrating wounds. Thien Kim, now much more confident than in the first days of clumsiness, performs operations accurately and neatly.

"You know, two months ago, when you wrapped the bandage so tightly that Duc cried out, I thought maybe you would need more time to get used to it," Minh Vu said, watching her practice while chatting. "But looking back now, you've progressed faster than almost anyone I've ever taught."

"It's because you taught me well," Thien Kim replied, without raising her head, focusing on fixing the head of the bandage.

"Not really," Minh Vu shook his head. "I think it's because you practice hard, and more importantly, you learn not to be afraid of making mistakes anymore. That's the real turning point, not the technique."

At lunch break, Ms. Hoa suggested that the whole group eat lunch together in the multi-purpose room, ordering food from the school cafeteria to save time. Thien Kim sat next to Minh Vu at lunch, and the two continued to talk, this time about lighter topics — about the upcoming university entrance exam, about the majors they were both considering.

"I think I will enter nursing or public health," Thien Kim shared, something she has never told anyone other than Tuyet Mai. "Previously, I didn't dare think about pursuing a career related to medicine, because I was always afraid that I wasn't good enough or calm enough to do it. But recently, I've started to think differently."

"I think you'll do very well," Minh Vu said, his voice sincere without any formality. "You have rare meticulousness and carefulness, and now you're also learning how to stay calm. That's an ideal combination for the medical field."

"What about you?" she asked again. "Are you planning on going into medicine?"

"Yes, I want to study hospital emergency medicine, or maybe become a general practitioner," Minh Vu replied. "Since my grandfather's incident, I know for sure that this is the path I want to follow. This club, for me, is not only an extracurricular activity, but also a way to prepare for my future."

In the afternoon, practice stations continue with splint immobilization and shock treatment. Arriving at the last station - a general station simulating real-life situations - Thien Kim and Minh Vu were asked to coordinate in handling a complex scenario: two "victims" at the same time, one person fell off a motorbike with a bleeding wound in his leg, another person suffered anaphylactic shock due to an allergic reaction to bee stings.

This is the most difficult exercise of the day, requiring them to divide tasks quickly, communicate clearly, and handle two different situations simultaneously. Thien Kim, based on last week's triage lesson, quickly assessed that the case of anaphylactic shock was more dangerous in terms of life-threatening potential.

"You deal with the person with allergies first, find out if there's an epinephrine auto-injector, and I'll stop the bleeding for the person with the injured leg," she said quickly, her voice decisive, without any of the hesitation of the first days.

Minh Vu nodded immediately, not showing any doubts about her decision, and quickly moved on to handle the assigned situation. The two worked in parallel, occasionally conferring briefly to update each other on the situation, and completed the exercise in the best time among the pairs practicing that day.

"Very good job," Ms. Hoa commented as she observed their performance. "Especially the ability to quickly assign tasks and trust each other. This is the most important skill in a real-life situation with many victims — not just individual technique, but also the ability to coordinate as a team."

When practice ended in the late afternoon, the whole group was tired but in high spirits. Minh Vu offered to accompany Thien Kim to the school gate as had become a habit in recent weeks, although today the walk seemed longer than usual because they both deliberately slowed down.

"Thank you for today," Thien Kim said as they approached the school gate. "I learned a lot, not just about technique."

"Me too," Minh Vu replied, stopping to look at her. "Actually, I think I'm looking forward to weekend and Tuesday practices more than usual these days. It's not just because of club work."

Those words made Thien Kim's heart skip a beat for a moment. She looked at him, trying to read the true meaning behind that sentence, but Minh Vu, as if suddenly realizing that he had just said something bolder than intended, quickly laughed, redirecting the conversation to a lighter topic.

But that moment, although brief, left a deep echo in Thien Kim's heart throughout that evening. When she got home, she told Tuyet Mai on the phone, her voice unable to hide both confusion and excitement.

"What do you think he means?" Tuyet Mai asked, her voice full of curiosity.

"I don't know," Thien Kim admitted. "But I think... I hope he means what I'm thinking."

That night, when writing in her notebook, Thien Kim did not write about any first aid techniques, but just wrote a short, emotional line: "Today, for the first time, I thought maybe my irregular heartbeat was not due to anxiety anymore."