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The popcorn is popped,and I’m waiting for Heather to come over with a movie. We’re watching some chick flick about a girl who hates this guy but then I guess they fall in love. No, I don’t want to see it, and no, I haven’t grown a vagina. But Heather seemed excited about this movie, so we’re watching it, end of story.

The only problem is I can’t stop thinking about that clinic.

Dr. Kovak is selling drugs to students. I’m certain of it now. And if that’s the case, I can’t keep working there. I can’t be part of that.

Except I’m not sure he’ll let me leave.

Because it’s not just students he treats at the clinic. There have been some really unsavory men who have shown up to be treated—one guy had what looked like a knife wound on his face. Kovak isn’t just going to let me leave with a smile and wave. I know way too much for that.

Plus, the man has a gun.

I don’t know what to do. I’m scared to quit or blow the whistle, but I can’t just let this keep going on. I’ve got to do something. I have nowhere to turn.

I try to push thoughts of Stanley Kovak out of my head as I make an effort to clean up the coffee table. I toss the half-eaten pizza slice from last night in the trash and brush crumbs off the futon. Our place is a mess—I know it. I’m a slob, and Mason’s spent his whole life having maids pick up after him, so between the two of us, we’re not in great shape.

Heather arrives at my door right on time. She’s wearing a tank top and jeans and just looks so cute that I want to forget the dopey movie and hook up on the futon instead.

She can never know what goes on at the clinic where I work. I would die if she found out.

She grins at me. “Got the popcorn?”

I nod. “Yep.”

Heather catches the look on my face. “Abe, what’s wrong? Don’t you want to see this movie?”

I force a smile. “Yeah, definitely.”

She puts her hands on her hips.

“Okay, fine,” I say. “I don’t want to see it. But I’m willing to watch it.”

Heather blinks at me. “Why?”

“Because,” I say. “I want to hang out with you. Who cares what we’re watching?”

Her eyes soften. “Tell you what,” she says. “Let me go grab my purse, and we’ll go out and see that zombie apocalypse movie that’s playing in the theater.”

I stare at her. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“You really want to see that?” It’s hard for me to believe any woman would want to see that movie.

“I just want to hang out with you,” Heather says, and she winks. “Besides, zombies are awesome. No?”

I’m going to marry her someday. I’ve never wanted anything this badly in my life, even getting into med school.

“Heather,” I say. “I love…” Crap. I can’t say it. “I love seeing movies with you. A lot.”

Her brown eyes twinkle. “I love seeing movies with you too. A lot.”

I can’t screw this up. I wish I had never taken that stupid job.