Chapter 1
That night, I was burning up with a fever of 102.2°F, and I was the only one left in the dorm.
I sent a message to my boyfriend, Lucas Hayes.
[Can you bring me some fever meds?]
[I have a high fever and feel too dizzy to go downstairs.]
Half an hour later, he finally replied.
He texted: [Lily, I'm not your errand boy.]
But not long after, I scrolled past my best friend Wendy's feed.
In the photo, Lucas was standing right outside the girls' dorm building.
He was holding painkillers, hot porridge, and a cup of warm brown sugar water.
Wendy captioned it:
[I just mentioned my stomach hurt, and he ditched his group meeting to come over. I couldn't even get him to leave.]
She even included a screenshot of their chat.
Lucas: [I got you the meds and porridge.]
Lucas: [I know you like things sweet, so I added extra sugar to your brown sugar water.]
Someone commented: [Is this really our cold, aloof genius?]
Wendy replied: [Him, aloof? He's clearly a clingy puppy.]
I pressed my hand to my burning forehead, but my thoughts were finally starting to clear up.
I'd been struggling to decide whether to study abroad after graduation or stay at our university with him.
But right now, the decision suddenly felt a lot easier.
*****
When the dorm door opened, Wendy walked in carrying two insulated bags, a smile she couldn't hide lighting up her face.
"Lily, you're running a fever?" she asked.
"Lucas asked me to bring you some meds and porridge," she added.
I opened one of the bags.
Inside was a bowl of plain pork porridge.
He still remembered this was the only thing I could stomach whenever I got sick.
Just as I opened the lid of the porridge, Wendy had already pulled out the brown sugar water from the other bag.
She took a sip, then hit the voice message button.
"Just tried it—it's perfectly sweet," Wendy said.
"I took the painkillers too, so quit worrying," she added.
Lucas replied almost instantly.
Wendy glanced at her phone, smiled, and set it face down on the table.
That night, I was burning up and barely conscious.
Every time I opened my eyes, I could see her phone glowing on the pillow beside her.
When I woke up the next morning, my fever still hadn't gone down.
The campus doctor took my temperature and handed me a referral to the city hospital right away.
"Your fever's still pretty high. You should head to the city hospital for some blood tests, just to make sure it's not an infection," the doctor told me.
"And try to bring a friend with you," he added.
I gripped the referral slip and sent Lucas a message.
[My fever's still not gone. I have to go to the city hospital for a follow-up this afternoon.]
[It's the weekend. Do you have time to come with me?]
He replied almost instantly.
[Okay.]
Ten minutes later, Lucas came running over from the lab building.
He was still wearing his white lab coat, his bangs a little messy from the wind.
It gave his refined, handsome face a touch of boyish charm.
Turns out I had the flu, and the city hospital wanted to keep me there for an IV drip.
After the nurse set up the IV, Lucas borrowed a hot water bottle from the nurses' station and placed it under my wrist.
Just as he pulled out the chair next to me, his phone started ringing.
Lucas glanced at the caller ID, then got up and walked outside the room.
With the door half open, I couldn't make out what he was saying.
I only saw him lower his head, the corner of his lips curving slightly.
That slight smile softened his whole expression, easing away all the tension.
When he came back, he took his coat from the back of the chair.
"I need to step out for a bit. Just wait here for me," he said.
After that, he adjusted the IV drip to a slower pace and opened a bottle of water, placing it right next to my hand.
"Call me when you're done," he said.
"I'll come pick you up," he added.
Once Lucas left, the seat beside me felt empty all over again.
By the time the last IV bag was empty, Lucas still hadn't come back.
I pressed the cotton swab to my hand and tried calling him a few times, but he never picked up.
None of my messages got a reply either.
I ended up waiting in the hospital lobby for another hour.
Every time my phone vibrated, I picked it up immediately.
But instead, what popped up was Wendy's latest post.
In the photo, Wendy was hugging a pink limited-edition plushie, grinning ear to ear.
Lucas was behind her, leaning in to help her with the claw machine controls.
Next to them, a little cart was overflowing with plushies of all shapes and sizes.
Wendy captioned it:
[After three hours, the campus genius finally caved and said claw machines are tougher than experiments.]
Comments soon followed below.
[Three hours? Lucas at the arcade for that long? Seriously?]
Wendy replied:
[I told him to forget it, but when he heard today was the last day for the limited edition, he insisted on keeping at it.]
[He said he didn't want me to regret it.]
I just kept staring at that post, unable to swipe it away or move on.
Lucas never wasted a second—he always valued his time.
He'd order his food ahead of time and always took the quickest route wherever he went.
Even our dates were scheduled down to the minute—he knew exactly when we'd start and when we'd be done.
He always said, time should only be spent on things that were truly worth it.
But now, just because Wendy wanted that plushie, he was willing to stand in front of the claw machine, playing over and over, never giving up until he got it for her.
Just then, a message from my advisor popped up.
[Lily, I've finished writing your recommendation letter for your study abroad application.]
[Once you've made up your mind, you can submit it anytime.]
I looked at the screen.
The decision I had put off for so long finally had an answer.