く
I’d been there once, when Ethan had a high
fever.
42
“She even knows the door code,” Ethan added, gesturing for me to come inside. “Come on up, we’re having hot pot tonight.” He smiled at Riley. “Tough to park here, so I won’t keep you.”
Riley met his gaze. “Enjoy your dinner,” he said. Then he closed the door, started the engine, and drove away, leaving Ethan standing there in the rearview mirror, gradually disappearing from sight.
Once we were back on the main road, Riley pulled over.
“Sorry,” he said, looking away. “I just wanted to
drive away.”
“It’s okay, I didn’t want to go to his place
anyway.”
“Do you want to go back to campus or grab
some food?” he asked, turning to face me. “I
can take you wherever you want.”
I turned off my phone and touched my nose.
“Can we go to your place?”
The water was shut off in my dorm. My
roommates had texted me earlier, saying they’d
showered elsewhere and were already back.
Riley was a local, and his place wasn’t far from
campus.
We rode the elevator up to his apartment in
silence, maintaining a wide distance between us
in the small space. He glanced at my hand,
tightly gripping my bag strap.
“I live alone, so you don’t have to be nervous,”
he said.
His words only made things more awkward.
ean,” he stammered, trying to explain himself, “you don’t have to rush. Take your time
showering. It’s just me here.”
His explanation was making it worse. I
interrupted him. “I’ll be quick,” I said.
He didn’t say anything else.
His apartment was a large, open–plan space with a stunning view of the city lights. When I came out of the shower, he had just finished
making instant ramen. Two bowls.
He cleared his throat and handed me a glass of
water. He was in his own home, but he seemed
more nervous than I was.
“Why do you live alone?” I asked. The four-
bedroom apartment, decorated in cool grays,
felt strangely empty. The living room floor was
covered in computer science textbooks.
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<
- )
“I used to live with my mom,” he said. “My
parents divorced when I was little. Then, when I
was in middle school, my mom moved abroad
to study medicine and never came back. I’ve
been living alone ever since.”
I noticed a framed photo on the table. It was of him and his mother, standing in front of some monument, both smiling. He looked about ten years old.
“Why didn’t you go abroad with her?” I asked.
“Because she hates me,” he said with a shrug and a small smile.
“She’s a lot like Ethan, actually,” he continued. “Naturally gifted, top of her class, life comes easy to her. Too bad she met my dad. He cheated on her when I was three years old.”
“The affair really messed her up. She couldn’t understand what she’d done wrong to deserve
EL
2
<
that, to be judged by everyone. So she left.” His
expression turned serious. “She’s pretty
amazing, restarting her life in her thirties,
passing all those exams.”
When he talked about his mother, his eyes
shone with pride, his voice devoid of
resentment.
“I chose the same major as her, hoping to impress her.” He chuckled. “But I’m not cut out for it. I could never live up to her expectations. She always said if you’re not naturally gifted, hard work is pointless.”
So that was why he’d initially sided with Ethan, why he’d disliked me for my “pointless” efforts
to win Ethan over. He was projecting his own
self–loathing.
“Is that why you have sleeping pills in your
car?” I knew I was crossing a line, but he didn’t
seem offended. He just sighed. “Insomnia
<
sucks.”
So that was why he slept on the couch, with all
those empty bedrooms around him.
He tried to lighten the mood. “When I can’t
sleep, I just read. Look, I’ve almost finished all
the computer science books.”
“You really like computer stuff?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I actually wanted to study cybersecurity.”
“Pre–med was just to prove myself.” He smiled at me. “Turns out, I really don’t have the talent for it.”
“Riley,” I said, “I think I am going to enter the speech contest.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Still trying to prove something to Ethan?”
<
“No. I’m trying to prove something to myself.” I
met his gaze. “Hard work does matter.” It just mattered that I was working hard for the right reasons. I used to strive for Ethan’s attention, but now I was doing it for myself. I’d been
drowning in his emotional quicksand for so long, waiting for a hand that might never come. Now I was letting myself sink, until the sand covered me completely. When my feet finally hit solid ground, I realized it had all been an
illusion, a game he’d created. I walked out of
the illusion and opened my eyes to a vast, open
field, the dawn just breaking.
I caught a cold after the camping trip. I lay in bed, listening to Sarah ranting and crying on the balcony. Ethan had gone on a trip with his club, and he hadn’t invited her. To make matters worse, one of her friends had snagged a spot on the trip and was now sending Sarah selfies, rubbing it in her face.
I finished practicing my speech, my voice still
<
8
42
slightly nasal, and then switched to my burner
account.
Sure enough, Ethan had posted photos in the
group chat, surrounded by pretty girls. Riley had
been unusually quiet, barely contributing to the
conversation.
Mark: “Ethan’s having fun, huh?”
Mark: “Haven’t seen Amy around lately. What’s
up with that?”
Ethan didn’t reply. Then, at 3 am, he suddenly
appeared.
Ethan: “What’s she got to do with me?”
Ethan: “You should ask NotADog.”
At 8 am, Riley replied.
HappyPup: “Yeah, we’re good.”
Mark: “When did you change your username?
What’s with the name change?”
Ethan: “Good.”
Ethan: “I’m leaving her to you. Don’t mess it
up.”
HappyPup: “She’s not an object to be ‘left‘ to
anyone.”
HappyPup: “She’s just not into you anymore.”
Then Riley left the group chat and messaged
me privately.
HappyPup: “Dude, send me the pics.”
DogWhisperer: “What do you want them for?”
HappyPup: “The first one, the group photo. I
want to keep it.”
DogWhisperer: “?”
HappyPup: “Got a problem with that?”
I didn’t even have the photo. He sent me
another $20 on Venmo.
HappyPup: “Come on, send it over.”
I needed to talk to him about this habit of
randomly sending money to strangers. My alarm
went off. I had to go register for the speech contest. I didn’t reply and got out of bed.
Sarah was still on the balcony, crying and trying to call Ethan. “He blocked me!” she wailed.
Ethan’s affections were fleeting. I’d learned that the hard way.
At the registration desk, I ran into Ethan. We
hadn’t spoken since the camping trip. He never
reached out to me anyway, and I was done
chasing after him. I was ahead of him in line,
handing in my application.
“Scan this QR code and fill out the form,” the
administrator said. My ears were still slightly
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