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I sealthe exam in an envelope and bring it to school with me the next day. Before classes are due to start, I hurry over to the locker hallway and go down to Locker 282. I look around and make sure that the hallway is completely deserted. I compress the envelope as much as possible and then slide it carefully under the locker door. It barely fits.

I can’t believe I just did that.

Matt wouldn’t approve. I know that for sure. But my intentions are good. Nobody can know about the two of us until anatomy is long over. Truthfully, I don’t care as much about the fact that I’d get kicked out of school—I just don’t want him to get fired.

There are guest lecturers teaching anatomy that morning, so I decide to skip them and go straight to his office. He’s usually working there in the morning. He sometimes scolds me for missing lectures, but he has to admit that none of the other professors are nearly as good teachers as he is.

The light is on under his office door, and I knock gently.

“Come in,” he calls.

I gingerly open the door. He’s working at his computer, his blue eyes pinned on the screen. I love the way he looks when he’s hard at work.

“Hi,” I say.

He turns away from the monitor and looks at me.

“Hi,” he says. There’s something guarded in his tone.

“I just came by to see you,” I say. I’m trying to sound sexy, even though I feel a bit foolish, especially with the way he’s looking at me.

“Uh-huh,” he says.

My stomach sinks. Something changed. Does he know? But how can he?

“Sorry I skipped class,” I say.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” He raises his eyebrows at me. I’m quiet as he reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper. He holds it out to me. “You left something in my printer yesterday, Rachel.”

I take it from him, my hands trembling. It’s the last page of the final exam.

Oh no.

I don’t know what to say. As I stare down at the page, the whole world around me fades to black. I sink into the chair in front of his desk so I don’t fall to the floor. I can’t even lift my head to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“Don’t be,” he says. “I’m the stupid one. Your old professor even warned me about you and I didn’t listen. Everyone warned me about you.”

“It’s not like that,” I try to say, but I know my words sound lame.

“Then what’s it like, Rachel?”

When I raise my eyes to meet his, I expect to see anger, but all I see is hurt. I wish he’d be angry at me. I want him to start yelling and cursing. That would be easier to deal with—I’m used to anger. One professor threw his stapler at me, and I needed stitches on my forehead.

“I’m sorry,” I say again.

“Please stop saying that,” he says. “I feel dumb enough as it is. I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit act.”

“It wasn’t an act,” I say.

“Please.” He holds up his hand. “Enough with the lies. Let’s just say we both lied, okay? You lied about being interested in me. I lied when I pretended I wasn’t the lonely, pathetic loser you knew I was all along.”

“You’re not a pathetic loser.”

“Let’s not kid ourselves anymore, okay?” he says. “We both know what I am. I’m a disabled anatomy geek who hasn’t had a date—much less a second date—in years. You know the last time I’d been with a woman before you? I don’t even want to think about it.”

I don’t know what to say. My mouth feels dry.

I want to try to explain to him what happened. I could tell him about the blackmailer, about how I did it to save his career so that we could still be together. I really want to tell him. But I hear the words in my head, and it all sounds like a big lie. He’ll never believe me in a million years.

Matt closes his eyes. “You got me, Rachel, I have to admit it. I really believed that…” He shakes his head and opens his eyes again. “Look, I’ll let you keep the honors on the last midterm, and let’s just forget this ever happened, okay? I’ll change the final exam questions, and we’ll call it even. It’s… it’s a valuable lesson for me, I guess.”

I want to cry. I don’t care about the grade. That’s not what matters to me anymore.

“Matt,” I say, speaking through a sizable lump in my throat. “You have to believe me. I never faked anything with you. I swear.”

He glances down at the exam paper still in my hand. “Yeah, okay.”

“I know how it looks,” I admit. “But you also know how hard I studied for that last midterm. I mean, we studied together. You were quizzing me—I couldn’t have faked that. And I wasn’t faking my feelings for you either. I… I love you.”

Matt looks at me like I just slapped him in the face.

“Please just get out,” he says, his voice breaking on the words.

What else can I do? I get out. And as I am shutting the door, Matt drops his face into his hands, and my heart breaks in two.