Page 71 of Dead Med


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“Okay, thanks…”

I’ve lost all interest in finding out about Locker 282 and just want to get the hell out of there. But Anita isn’t going to let me get off that easily.

“Miss Bingham,” Anita says in a tight voice, “I’ve worked with Matthew Conlon for many years, and he’s a very good professor and a good man. And someday, he’ll find a woman who loves him. I think it’s downright despicable that you’re taking advantage of the fact that he’s very lonely right now.”

A burst of anger rises inside of me. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Anita shakes her head. “I never thought I’d see the day when a twenty-two-year-old snot-nosed med student would tell me that I have no idea what I’m talking about. I knew I was right about you, and I’ve told Matthew as much.”

Oh, great. Anita is talking trash about me to Matt. But it won’t do much good to fight with Anita. Anita hates me, Patrice hates me. Everyone thinks I’m the worst person in the world for getting involved with Matt. And maybe they’re all right.

“I’m sorry I bothered you,” I say quietly. “I wish you could understand.”

A tiny flash of doubt falls over Anita’s face, but it passes quickly. I’m a medical student, and I’m dating my anatomy professor. Nobody is going to understand if this gets out.

50

I can’t tellMatt about the letter.

I’d like to, but I sense it’s a mistake. Matt won’t negotiate. Despite his resolve not to let anyone fail and the fact that he’s sleeping with a student, he’s irritatingly ethical. He’s not going to hand someone an answer key just because they threatened him. He has way too much integrity for his own good. He’d rather lose his job than negotiate.

I’m not quite so hardcore.

Cheating doesn’t bother me. Obviously. Okay, I know it’s wrong, but it’s not on the order of murder or torture. I don’t like being blackmailed, but it’s hard to throw stones. I blackmailed plenty of professors, and if I could have taken advantage of another student, I’m sure I would have. The opportunity just never came up.

Don’t laugh, but I do some detective work to figure out who Locker 282 belongs to. I start inconspicuously wandering around in the corner where the locker is located, although I realize I’m at a disadvantage, considering the blackmailer knows who I am.

Naturally, my first thought was that it might be Danielle Stern, considering I’m pretty sure she suspected something was going on between Matt and me when she saw me leave his office with my buttons mismatched. I watched her around the lockers, and I was almost positive that I saw her slamming the door to Locker 282.

The next day, I fall into step with Danielle while we’re heading to our lockers before lab. Danielle glances up at me and doesn’t seem particularly thrilled by my company, but she doesn’t shove me out of the way at least. Danielle is very studious—she always has her nose in a book and always has the answer when she’s called on in class. She’s fairly attractive but never dates. She wants to be a dermatologist, which is one of the most competitive specialties, so she has to be on the ball. I wonder what she’d do to land a spot in a choice dermatology program.

“Hi, Danielle,” I say brightly. “Going to the lab?”

Danielle shifts her backpack to her other shoulder and peers at me with curiosity. Or is it suspicion? Danielle and I have exchanged only a handful of words this year, and we haven’t spoken since the time she saw me coming out of Matt’s office.

“Yes,” Danielle says. “Of course.”

“Right,” I say after an awkward pause. “Me too.”

If this med school thing doesn’t work out, I don’t think detective work is in the cards for me.

“Great,” Danielle replies tonelessly.

It’s pretty clear Danielle doesn’t like me. Does that make her a suspect? More likely, it just makes her like everyone else.

When Danielle turns the corner to get to her locker, she looks irritated that I’m still following her.

“Isn’t your locker on the other end of the hallway?” she asks.

“Uh…” I curse myself for not preparing for this obvious question. “I switched lockers.”

“Why would you do that?” Danielle asks. She drops her backpack on the floor and looks at me curiously.

Just open your locker already!

“Too many boys changing down there,” I say finally.

Danielle gives me a funny look, and I know why. Several of the girls in the class have been whispering about how I stripped down to change in the middle of the hallway when I hadn’t been wearing a bra. What can I say—I was in a hurry. I often don’t wear a bra because my boobs are tiny, and the only time they elicit the slightest bit of attention is when I’m braless. Anyway, I’m sorry I did it. No wonder all the girls hate me.