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I’m sittingon my bed studying (what else?) when Abe stomps into our shared bedroom. The first thing he does is accidentally knock over the stack of books next to the bed, and the texts go flying all over the floor. Typical.

“Hulk smash,” I say.

Abe doesn’t crack a smile like he usually does when I make that joke. He sighs loudly and flops down on his bed. Then he stares up at the ceiling like a hormonal teenager. “It’s hopeless,” he mutters.

“Heather?” I ask.

He nods. “I can’t take it anymore. Seriously.”

I don’t get it. “What’s so great about her anyway?”

Abe rolls onto his side and frowns at me. “What’s so great about Sasha?”

Shit, I didn’t know he knew about me and Sasha. He’s more observant than I gave him credit for.

“That’s nothing,” I say, which is the truth. Sasha would never let it be any more than that.

He sighs and rolls back the other way. “She’s great, that’s all. And her boyfriend is a total asshole who doesn’t appreciate her.”

I hate to see my roommate suffering this way.

“Okay,” I say. “You know what you do?”

Abe sits up, all eager for my advice. I get the sense he doesn’t have a whole lot of experience with girls.

“You kiss her,” I say.

His eyes widen. “I can’t do that, Mason!”

“Why not?”

“It’s a violation of her space,” he says.

Oh, Christ.

“Abe,” I say. “You have to be aggressive. Nice guys finish last. Don’t be a nice guy.”

“Maybe,” he says thoughtfully, “I can be a slightly less nice guy who finishes a little better than last.”

“Just kiss her, dude!”

Abe shakes his head. “She’d probably just slap me.”

That’s actually a distinct possibility.

“It’s worth the risk,” I say.

Abe looks dubious.

“Abe,” I say. “You have been her friend way too long. If you don’t make a move fast, soon, you’re going to be painting each other’s toenails and putting her hair in curlers.”

He looks like he’s considering what I’m saying, but I doubt he’ll do it. For a big guy, Abe is a huge wuss.

A weekbefore our first anatomy exam, my classmate Brogan Scott approaches me in the hospital after the class we just took together.

I’ve been avoiding Brogan like the plague lately. I get the sense she’s interested in me, and that’s just not what I want on any level. Yeah, Brogan is hot as holy hell, but so what? She just doesn’t do it for me. Plus, I’m willing to bet she’s super high maintenance.

“Mason,” Brogan says in a singsong voice. She puts her hand on my arm for good measure. “Where have you been hiding yourself?”

I smile tightly. “What’s up, Brogan?”

“We’re having a party the night of the anatomy exam at my house,” Brogan says. She’s renting a house with a couple of other girls in the class, none of whom are girls I’d like to spend an evening with. “You must come.”

I suppress a groan. Alcohol + Party + Brogan = Big Mistake. And even if I manage to avoid Brogan, I can’t imagine the party being that much fun if her annoying, stuck-up friends are there. Then I get an idea for something that might make the party tolerable.

“Listen,” I say. “Can I bring Sasha?”

“Who?” Brogan asks.

“Sasha Zaleski. My lab partner.”

Brogan makes a face. “I’d rather not, Mason. I don’t want more girls there. The ratios are already way off.”

Is she joking? Is this junior high school, where she’s counting girls and boys in the room?

“Then forget it,” I say.

Brogan pouts at me. I bet that works on most guys, but not this guy. I just have no interest in her. If I can’t hang out with Sasha, then I don’t want to go to the party.

“There just isn’t room,” Brogan insists.

Yeah, I’m sure she can’t squeeze tiny Sasha into her huge house. She sighs loudly and crosses her arms.

“Listen, Mason, if you change your mind, you’re welcome to come. But just you.”

I’m pretty sure I won’t be changing my mind.