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I stop droppingthe dopamine capsules in Mason’s coffee after that. Considering he’s sort of my… well, he’s not my boyfriend, but he’s definitely something to me. Anyway, I just can’t do it anymore. As much as it pains me to see his amazing score on the first big anatomy exam, he earned the grade.

Also, there’s a very tiny chance I’m starting to fall for him. Just a tiny bit.

Don’t tell anyone. My sisters would never let me hear the end of it. I was never a girl who was taken in by a handsome face. But Mason’s not just handsome, he’s really handsome. Okay, that sounds bad. But I can’t help myself. I’m really into him. I even find it endearing that he’s not amazingly skilled at sex for a twenty-two-year-old, probably due to lack of experience. It just shows he hasn’t spent his life chasing everything in a skirt. He tries, though—he really does.

He’s not a bad guy either. He never buys me flowers, but he always holds the door for me when we go to anatomy lab together, he’s never too busy to spend a few minutes chatting with me at the library, and he’s always up for a little fun in the locker room. We’re never going to have a bona fide “relationship,” but there are worse people to be hooking up with.

Of course, then Mason has to go and ruin things.

After Mason has some meeting with Dr. Conlon, he will not shut up about the anatomy practical. He keeps telling me, “I’m the first person to ever get a perfect score on the practical. Can you believe that?”

Yes, I believe it. Now stop talking about it!

“Dr. Conlon practically offered me a TA job for next year,” he goes on.

And that’s the part that really pisses me off. I’ve been hoping to be an anatomy teaching assistant next year. That would look great on my transcript. If Dr. Conlon is making a short list of possibilities, I want to be in the running. So at the next opportunity, I decide to pay a visit to Dr. Conlon’s office.

I show up at the end of the day, at around six o’clock. It was a half-hearted attempt, and I didn’t expect Dr. Conlon to still be there, but there he is, working hard at his computer, and he doesn’t look like he’s leaving anytime soon. I feel a little bit sorry for my professor—I don’t think he’s married or has a family, and his work is probably all he has. But he seems to love what he does, at least—a lot of people can’t say the same.

Dr. Conlon flashes me a wide grin when he notices me at the door. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“Can I talk to you a minute?” I ask.

“Of course! Come in, uh…” Dr. Conlon frowns, and it takes me a second to realize he’s fumbling to think of my name. It’s a huge slap in the face—Dr. Conlon knows everyone’s name. He certainly wouldn’t be struggling to come up with Mason’s name.

“Sasha,” I finally say after giving him another second to try to come up with the name on his own.

“Right, Sasha,” he says in an apologetic tone. “Sasha Zaleski. Sorry, Sasha… I got a poor night’s sleep last night. Now, how can I help you?”

“I just…” I squeeze my hands together. “I wanted to let you know that I’m interested in being an anatomy TA next year.”

“Oh…” Dr. Conlon looks taken aback. “Well, I applaud your enthusiasm, but I’m not thinking about that quite yet. It’s still very early in the year.”

Right. Except that he already practically offered it to Mason. Well, I shouldn’t be too surprised.

I nod in resignation. “Thank you anyway.”

“I’m very sorry, uh…”

My face burns. “Sasha.”

I’m fuming mad when I leave Dr. Conlon’s office. I’m just as smart as Mason, and my grades are comparable to his, but for some reason, he’s the one who gets all the recognition, while Dr. Conlon can’t even remember my name. It’s so unfair. Mason gets every advantage in the world handed to him on a silver plate, and I get nothing.

The next day, I start putting dopamine capsules in Mason’s coffee again. Except this time, I put in two instead of one.