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Dating Abe isan experience like I had never imagined.

Abe’s number-one concern in life seems to be Making Heather Happy. It’s almost overwhelming. Even if it was three in the morning, even if he was studying, even if there was snow and hail and a tornado outside, all I had to do was let out a small sigh and he’d race out to buy me a little present to cheer me up. (Not that I’d let him go out in a tornado or anything. I’m not that high maintenance.)

And the flowers… Dear God, the flowers. I don’t know how Abe got the combination to my locker, but I start finding flowers waiting for me almost every day. What baffles me further is how he finds time to put them in there, considering we spend nearly every waking minute together.

I also love that he is such a gentleman. One day, when we walked into the parking lot at school, there were puddles all over the ground from an earlier rainstorm. I mentioned I was worried about getting my shoes wet, so Abe scooped me up off my feet. A few times when I was dating Landon, he picked me up to carry me to bed, and he always grunted and strained like he was carrying a baby elephant. But Abe didn’t even break a sweat as he trotted across the parking lot with me in his arms to deliver me to my car with perfectly dry shoes.

Of course, the crux of every med school relationship is studying, and Abe and I are no exception. More nights than not are spent lying in Abe’s bed, textbooks in our laps, my legs crossed over his. Those are the times I like best.

The second anatomy exam is much less painful than the first, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t thanks to studying with Abe. We study pretty much every night he doesn’t work at the clinic. It makes me feel a bit like a loser that it took Landon’s tutoring to get me through premed courses in college, and now Abe is carrying me through anatomy.

“I think I’m holding you back,” I sometimes say to Abe when I’m feeling especially guilty.

“No way,” Abe insists. “I learn the material better when I go over it with you.”

It could be true, although I suspect he’d help me even if it weren’t. The fact that Abe has a part-time job on top of med school is unthinkable to me. How is it possible that he’s balancing a job on top of the mountain of work we have to do for school? All I can think is that his brain must be wired differently.

That or he’s got a little helper in the form of pills.

No. No way. Abe isn’t on drugs. I’d know if he were, and he just… he isn’t. He wouldn’t. I’m sure of it. I’d sooner believe he’s some sort of cyborg sent from the future with the singular purpose to excel in anatomy.

This time, I wait until the grades are posted rather than stalking Dr. Conlon in his office. I make Abe come with me for moral support, although he’s oddly uninterested in his own grade. The grades are listed on a piece of paper by our mailboxes, although thankfully, our names aren’t used. We each have a five-digit ID number to locate our grades. I scan the list until I find my ID number then let out a little involuntary squeal when I see my grade: seventy-six.

That’s a pass! Not even a low pass! It’s a bona fide pass!

I throw my arms around Abe, an action that might have knocked down a smaller man. But Abe just laughs and hugs me back. Then it turns into at least a minute of making out. When we finally separate, I cry, “I passed!”

“I figured that much,” he says with a grin.

“Not even a low pass,” I say proudly. Although I feel a little silly for being proud of what is essentially a C. “How did you do?”

I assumed he’d have done better than me, so I was prepared for that. What I wasn’t prepared for is the confused expression on his face.

“Oh,” he says. “I guess I should check.”

What the hell? How could we be standing a foot away from our midterm grades, but he didn’t even bother to look at his own grade?

“A ninety-one,” Abe announces. He shrugs. “Pretty good, I guess.”

“Pretty good?” I repeat, astonished. “Abe, that’s awesome! That’s honors.”

“Yeah,” he says and allows himself the tiniest of smiles. Although I can see in his eyes that he truly doesn’t care.

And that is just super weird, folks.