Chapter 3
Back in my dorm, I cleaned up and lay in bed.
Usually, at this hour, I would already be on the phone with Xander.
I’d tell him about my day, what happened in class, who annoyed me, what I ate, what I was wearing, what I was thinking.
Xander was always a very good listener.
But then I remembered he had been busy lately. He was preparing for some competition and barely had time to breathe.
After struggling with myself for a while, I gave up on calling him.
Instead, I typed out a few lighter stories from the day and sent those instead.
Then a few more.
Then a few more.
Before I knew it, I had sent him an entire wall of text.
He replied to every message one by one.
Then suddenly he asked, Aren’t your fingers tired from typing all that?
I stared at the screen.
Of course.
He thought I was annoying again.
This was obviously his subtle way of telling me to stop messaging him.
I swallowed the sour feeling in my chest and typed back, Yeah, a little.
The words Typing… appeared on his side almost immediately.
But before he could send whatever he was writing, I hurried and sent, Then I’ll sleep first. Goodnight.
The Typing… vanished.
A long moment later, he replied with only one word.
Okay.
Over the next few days, I followed the system’s advice exactly.
I stopped acting demanding.
I stopped clinging to him every second.
I stopped making decisions for him.
I gave in to him everywhere I could.
I even said one afternoon, “Baby, don’t you like dyeing your hair? You can color it whatever you want from now on.”
He looked genuinely surprised.
“I thought you hated that.”
I did.
Or at least I had.
Back when we first started dating, I made him dye his silver hair black, button his uniform all the way up, and wear black-framed glasses.
I had stood on tiptoe adjusting those glasses on his face and declared, “This soft, scholarly look is obviously the best. Don’t you get it?”
He hadn’t.
But he still let me do it.
Now I forced a smile and said, “Whatever color you choose will look good. You can pull off anything.”
That seemed to please him more than I expected.
He dyed it that same day.
A warm rose-gold color that looked bright and wild and impossible to ignore.
He got rid of the glasses too.
Without them, his face looked sharper, more dangerous, more like the version of him everyone on campus feared.
His friends nearly cried with joy when they saw him.
“Now that’s our guy.”
“You should’ve ditched that fake honor student look ages ago.”
Even so, no matter how hard I tried, the irritation meter barely moved.
The system tried to comfort me. “It’s okay. At least it’s not going up. That’s still progress.”
Then one evening, my mom called.
“Harper, Aunt Laura’s family came back to the States. Come have dinner with us.”
I couldn’t place the name right away, so she reminded me, “They used to live next door when you were little. You were always following their son around.”
I vaguely remembered something like that, so I agreed.
After telling Xander where I was going, I headed to the restaurant.
My parents and Aunt Laura’s family still seemed close. But because I hadn’t seen them in so many years, the whole dinner felt a little awkward.
Their son, Lucas, had apparently just returned from studying abroad.
He didn’t talk much, but when he spoke to me, his voice was warm and polite.
By the time dinner ended, it was late. Since I still had class the next morning, I needed to get back to school.
Aunt Laura immediately said, “Lucas didn’t drink. He can drive Harper back.”
Before I could refuse, Lucas had already picked up his keys.
“Come on,” he said.
I was about to call Xander.
But with everyone standing there looking at me, I didn’t know how to explain, so I let it go.
Lucas drove me back to campus.
And when we got to the dorm, just as we were talking by the entrance, he suddenly went quiet and looked past me.
“Harper,” he said slowly, “why is that guy staring at you like that?”
I turned.
Xander was standing under a tree.
And he was looking straight at me.