Chapter 42

Our second midterm comes way,way too fast.

I'm at an advantage, what with all the private tutoring with the anatomy professor. But I'm still nervous as all hell. If I screw up, I screw up. Matt has made it painfully clear that he won't change my grade.

"You wouldn't really want me to, would you?" he says to me.

"No, of course not," I lie.

I would. Come on, of course I would.

Matt wants to live in some sort of fantasyland where I've changed all my corrupt ways, and now I'd never cheat in a million years. But that's just not true. If he offered me an A, I'd take it. I wouldn't even have to think twice.

The night before the exam, I head over to Matt's house for a study session. When I arrive, he's got all the textbooks—including the book he himself wrote—laid out on the coffee table. I settle down next to him on the couch, and immediately he tenses up again.

"Hey," he says.

"What?"

"You're on my right side."

I frown. "Huh?"

"Maybe you never noticed," he mumbles. "But I always sit with you on my left side." He adds sheepishly, "I don't move my right arm as well, as I'm sure you can tell. And I can't see as well on my right side. It just… it makes me uncomfortable."

I had no clue. He must have been positioning himself with me on his left very surreptitiously. Anyway, I get up and move to his left side, but he still looks tense.

"Matt," I say, rubbing his arm. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

He looks at me for a minute then drops his eyes. "Honestly? Sometimes I have no idea why you want to be with me."

I can't believe he'd say that to me. I mean, he's the brilliant professor. I'm nothing. Okay, yes, I'm young. But so what? I'm just a loser who has no friends and cheated my way through college.

I start to tell him that, but before I can summon the words to tell him exactly what he means to me, he snatches one of the books off the table and says, "Never mind. We better get to work."

Okay then.

Eventually, the study session migrates to the bed. We have this bowl of grapes, and if I get three right answers in a row, he feeds me a grape. I don't even like grapes that much, but it's really hot when he feeds it to me. I like how he holds it just out of reach of my mouth, waiting for that final right answer.

"You earned this," he says with mock seriousness as he pops the last grape in the bowl into my mouth.

I swallow the grape then stick my tongue out at him. He laughs and kisses me.

"Seriously," he says. "You're going to do great tomorrow. I know it."

"I hope you're right." I rub my eyes and yawn. "Oh my God, I'm so tired. What time is it?"

"It's one in the morning," Matt notes, looking surprised. "Wow. I didn't realize it was so late."

"Damn," I say. "I better head home."

I drag myself out of bed, still rubbing my eyes. Matt has a concerned look on his face.

"Maybe you should spend the night here," he suggests. "I don't want you to fall asleep at the wheel."

"I'll be fine," I assure him.

I've started to pull on my jeans when Matt's arms wrap around my waist.

"Please stay, Rachel."

Okay, so I stay. It's not that big a deal. We take separate cars the next morning, so it's not like anyone is going to find out. And it's so nice to spend the night snuggled against Matt's warm body.

Maybe it's my imagination,but the crowd outside the anatomy lab looks even more nervous than last time.

I have a clipboard and paper to write down my answers to the practical, and I camp out outside the lab like the rest of my classmates. Just like I'm any regular student who isn't sleeping with the professor. And just like everyone else, I'm anxious. Hell, I'm scared shitless.

Because this time, I tried. If I tried that hard and still fail, well…

"Here we are again," Heather says, nudging me on the shoulder. "Nervous?"

I try to pass off a casual shrug. "It's just an exam."

"What's with Mason?" Heather asks.

I look off in the corner, where Mason Howard is all by himself, his back pressed against the wall, staring off into the distance. Most of the class has been pulling off all-night study sessions lately, but Mason looks truly awful. His face is unshaven, his clothes are rumpled, and he has this strange, haunted look in his eyes.

Oh my God, is Mason on drugs? He never seemed like the type to me, but the problem is rampant at our school. And he certainly looks drugged.

"Hey," Heather says, "do you want to hear the latest gossip? Apparently, Sasha and Mason are hooking up. How weird is that?"

Very weird. I can't imagine Mason hooking up with sweet, quiet little Sasha, but then again, I'm probably pretty low on the list of candidates to be hooking up with the professor. There are much, much hotter girls in the class than me.

"By the way," Heather says, a small smile playing across her lips, "where were you last night, young lady?"

My mouth goes dry.

"I… I spent the night at school, studying."

"Whatever you say…"

Eventually, the students are herded into the lab. I can't remember the last time I've been this scared about a test. If I fail, that's it—I fail. But the worst part is that if I fail, Matt will be so incredibly disappointed. He seems to believe I have it in me to be some kind of anatomy genius, and I don't want to let him down. I don't want him to realize the truth: I'm not all that smart.

I position myself in front of one of the cadavers and try my best to steady my hand holding the pen. I can't believe how badly I'm shaking. I look over at Matt, who is at the front of the room. Our eyes meet, and he mouths to me, "You'll be fine."

And it really does make me feel better. It's nice that he believes in me, even if he may be completely wrong.

"All right, folks," Matt addresses the class, "you know the drill by now. Good luck to everyone, and you may begin."