Read Online The Anatomical Shape of a Heart by Jenn Bennett - Free Book Online

Sheridan who turned you down at Parnassus?” He picked up another pile and put it in the wrong place.
    â€œYes,” I said, moving the stack down to the second row.
    He got out his phone and typed. “I’ll fix it.”
    â€œFix what?”
    â€œJust give me a couple of days. I’ll get you into the anatomy lab.”
    â€œExcuse me? And just how do you propose to do that?”
    â€œI have ways. Don’t ask.”
    â€œOh, no. I’m asking.”
    â€œJust trust me.”
    I laughed. “Why in the world would I do that? I’m probably flagged as some kind of potential criminal in the SFPD database, and now my mom suspects I’ve crossed into Troubled Teen territory. Don’t pull me into your drama. I don’t need your help.”
    â€œBeatrix?” a voice called from behind me.
    I spun around to see Ms. Lopez’s head peeking out from one of the aisles. “Is everything okay?”
    â€œYes, fine.”
    She eyed Jack with suspicion. “Five minutes until register cash-out.”
    I gave her a thumbs-up before rushing to straighten the magazines. “Please don’t get me in trouble with my boss,” I whispered hotly to Jack.
    He made a frustrated sound. “What’s your number? Let me fix this for you.”
    â€œAre you kidding? The police are probably monitoring my phone.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous.”
    â€œYou’re ridiculous,” I mumbled.
    â€œAdorably ridiculous?”
    â€œCriminally ridiculous.”
    â€œI’ll take it.” He smiled and stuck a finger out to playfully poke the knot of my tie. He had large boy hands, all sinewy and latticed with faint blue veins, and long, slender fingers. More beautiful bones. I desperately wanted to trace my fingers over them—which was insane. And stupid.
    â€œPlease don’t stand so close,” I murmured.
    â€œI can’t help it. I’m strangely turned on by the tie and those Sacagawea braids.”
    My checks caught fire. Was he making fun of me? And why hadn’t he moved?
    â€œBeatrix?” Ms. Lopez called out again.
    â€œJust a moment,” I shouted back. “I can’t talk anymore,” I told Jack, stepping away with a nervous twist in my stomach. “You need to go.”
    â€œDigits?” he said, holding up his phone.
    â€œAbsolutely not.”
    â€œEmail address?”
    â€œYeah, it’s Bex at why-won’t-you-leave-me-alone dot com.”
    â€œI’ll message you online, then.”
    I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could. “It’s a free country.”
    â€œYou’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” he said, backing up toward the doors. They opened with a whoosh . He pulled up his collar. “I’ll fix it for you. Hand on my heart, Bex Adams, I will fix it.”

8
    I stared at my phone, which was propped on the pencil ledge of my drafting table. Any second now, it would morph into a rabbit and I’d know I’d been dreaming. But, no, it remained a phone, and if I needed further proof I was experiencing reality, I got it from the rapid-fire drumbeats of Heath’s metal blasting through the floorboards; he didn’t work at the vet’s office on Mondays.
    The impossible phone call I’d just received was from Dr. Sheridan’s assistant, Henry. He said the director had “reconsidered” my “query,” and could I come in tomorrow night at six? I was assigned to Simon Gan, a physical therapy student who was earning independent research credits with three other grad students who met on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m. in the otherwise empty lab. I could draw under his supervision unless my presence detracted from their research.
    â€œI promise it will not,” I’d told Henry before he thanked me and hung up.
    But now that the reality of what was—really!—happening settled in, my brain scrambled to see how this would fit in with