Chapter 5
The campus at Northbridge University was even bigger than I had imagined.
On move-in day, Samuel walked ahead, dragging two suitcases behind him. I followed a few steps back, clutching the backpack he had tried to carry for me, but I had refused to hand it over.
September sunlight blazed across Northbridge City, almost too bright to look at.
Sycamore shadows dappled the asphalt paths, and the air carried a dry, northern crispness that was nothing like the humid warmth of the small southern town I had left behind.
"Leah, your dorm is this way." Samuel appeared with a set of keys, having somehow already finished all the check-in paperwork. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead.
He took the backpack from my arms without asking and pointed to the building on the right. "Fourth floor, room 403."
I blinked. "How do you know my room number?"
"Saw it when I checked you in." He said it like it was nothing. "Come on, I'll carry your stuff up."
The entrance to the women's dorm was packed with freshmen and their parents.
Samuel grabbed my suitcase and headed straight up the stairs without a second glance, completely unbothered by the curious stares that followed him.
I trailed behind him, close enough to catch two girls whispering off to the side. "Oh my God, that guy is gorgeous. What department is he in?"
"No clue, but I think he's taken. Look at the pink suitcase he's carrying."
I glanced down at the suitcase in his hand.
It was the one my mom had bought me, bright pink and still covered in cartoon stickers from high school.
The sight of a six-foot-something, ice-cold top student hauling that thing around was a little ridiculous, even I had to admit.
I quickened my pace to catch up and lowered my voice. "I can take it from here."
He tilted his head toward me, the corner of his mouth curving up just slightly. "It's fine. It's not heavy."
Before I could argue, he took the stairs two at a time and carried the suitcase to the fourth floor without breaking a sweat.
Room 403 was a quad. By the time I got there, my three roommates had already moved in.
Samuel set my luggage down, pulled a bag out of his backpack, and handed it to me.
I asked, "What's all this?"
"A mattress pad, a power strip, a desk lamp, and some Midol." He pointed to each one as he went. "Northbridge winters are dry. One power strip by the bed, one on the desk, and you're set. The Midol is just in case."
The tips of his ears turned faintly red on those last three words.
It took me a second to realize what "just in case" meant.
All through high school, my cramps had been brutal every single month, and Lucas never once remembered. I always toughed it out alone.
It had never crossed my mind that Samuel would notice something like that, let alone plan ahead for it.
I asked, "How did you even know?"
"You sat out of PE once in junior year. Said it was a stomachache." He looked away, and his voice dropped. "I put it together."
Something soft shifted inside my chest, a quiet ache I hadn't known was there until he touched it. "Thank you, Samuel."
He gave a low "mm," then turned and started making my bed. He smoothed out the sheets, tucked in the corners, and laid out the comforter with quick, precise movements. Every fold was neat, every crease pulled taut.
One of my roommates sidled up and whispered, "Leah, is that your boyfriend? He's so hot, and so thoughtful!"
I opened my mouth to say no, but the word stalled somewhere between my throat and my lips.
Because Samuel had turned to look at me, and there was something in his eyes, a flicker of tension he couldn't quite hide.
He was waiting for my answer.
I lowered my gaze and let out a soft, noncommittal "mm-hm."
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him turning back to the bed. The hard line along his jaw softened by a fraction, and his mouth seemed to lift at the corner, just barely.
The first week of school was freshman orientation.
September in Northbridge was still sweltering, and the sun showed no mercy.
The welcome week schedule packed us outside for hours on end, standing through team-building drills and icebreaker sessions out on the main quad with no shade in sight.
My stamina had never been great. Forty minutes in, dark spots were already creeping into the edges of my vision.
The orientation leader's voice buzzed in my ears, growing fainter with every word.
Just as my knees were about to buckle, a figure broke away from a nearby group and rushed toward me.
It was Samuel. He caught me before I hit the ground and pulled me against his chest, his voice sharp with urgency.
"She's got heatstroke!" he called out to the leader.
The leader hurried over, took one look at me, and waved him off. "Get her to the health center. Now."
Samuel didn't hesitate. He scooped me up in his arms and took off running.
I leaned into him in a daze, catching the faint scent of soap on his skin, mixed with sunlight and sweat.
"How'd you get over here so fast?" I asked, my voice barely there.
"I saw you sway." He was breathing hard, but his steps never faltered. "I've been watching you."
His words settled somewhere deep in my chest, burning hotter than the September sun.
The nurse at the health center took my temperature, handed me a cold Gatorade, and told me to lie down and rest.
Samuel sat in the chair beside my bed, not moving.
His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, and I noticed a few red scratches running along his forearms.
"What happened to your arms?"
He glanced down, unbothered. "Caught some branches on the way over."
His group's activity area was on the far side of the quad. To reach mine, he would have had to cut across the entire field and push through a stretch of trees.
That was his version of "on the way over."
My eyes stung. "Don't do that again. You could've gotten hurt."
He looked at me, steady and serious. "Leah, when it comes to you, I don't factor in danger. All I know is that when you need me, I have to be there."
That night, I lay in bed, wide awake.
My roommates had all drifted off. The only sounds in the dorm were the steady rhythm of their breathing and the low hum of the AC.