Sam had always had a knack for science, ever since she was a little girl. Her parents had gotten her one of those build-your-own experiment kits when she was seven, and she had spent hours playing with magnets, constructing a potato clock, and peering through the toy microscope that came with it. Of course, she was quite intelligent – top of her class all the way through high school, she padded her resume with just the right amount of extracurricular activities to land herself a spot at a prestigious university, the name of which must be withheld here for confidentiality purposes. And so, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and having so successfully navigated academic life for the past decade and a half, Sam entered college this year with plans to become the world’s most renowned microbiologist. That was, of course, until she met him.