Chapter 3

Ronald pressed his lips together in a small smile, his eyes settling on my face.

"You are so lucky, Ethan. Natalie respects you so much."

I said nothing.

When dinner ended, Natalie helped Ronald call a ride outside the restaurant. I was walking past her when she called my name.

"Ethan, Ronald had a little to drink, so I am taking him back to his dorm. You will be fine on your own. Just get a ride home."

Ronald climbed into the car and rolled down the window to wave at me.

"Take care on your way home, Ethan."

As the car pulled away, Natalie was looking down, adjusting the air‑conditioning vent for him.

My phone buzzed. Our residence hall director had posted a message in the group chat:

[Everyone must move out by 5:00 p.m. tomorrow. All dorm rooms must be completely cleared out by then.]

A message from Natalie popped up right after.

[Do you have a lot of stuff to move tomorrow? Remember to go back early and start packing. Do not leave everything until the last minute and end up scrambling.]

At seven the next morning, I returned to the dorm early.

As I sealed the last box of books, the edge of the cardboard sliced open my finger. A bead of blood welled up, and I grabbed a tissue to press against the cut.

The dorm hallway was filled with the rumble of suitcase wheels.

Downstairs, tricycles, electric scooters, and small moving trucks were packed together in a chaotic mess.

I had three suitcases, a portfolio case for my art supplies, and enough stuff that I would have to make several trips on my own.

Leaving my belongings downstairs unattended would make it easy for someone to take the wrong things, so I sent Natalie a message.

[I have quite a bit of stuff. Could you come over and help me keep an eye on my things? Or maybe help me arrange a ride?]

She did not reply until ten minutes later.

[A moving truck is too expensive. There is no need for that. Move your things in batches and ask the dorm staff to watch them.]

[Ethan, you are an adult. Stop expecting your girlfriend to do everything for you.]

I stared at the screen for a long time. Then, I deleted the message I had typed, one word at a time.

She had not always been like that.

On the day our freshman orientation ended, I had spent too long under the scorching sun and started suffering from heat exhaustion. Our dorm room was on the sixth floor of the residence hall. Natalie had followed one of the campus medical staff members all the way upstairs and stayed by my side until I woke up.

When I opened my eyes, she was fanning me.

"Ethan, if you feel sick in the future, tell me right away. Do not try to tough it out."

I remembered those words for four years.

Then, later, when I had a fever of 103 degrees, she had said, "You are a grown man. Do you really need your girlfriend to bring you medicine just because you have a fever?"

I slipped my phone into my pocket and bent down to lift the heaviest box.

Someone came around the corner of the stairwell, so I pressed myself against the wall to let them pass. The rough paint scraped my arm, leaving a white mark.

By the time I made my third trip, my fingers had become too weak to grip anything properly. The older man who managed the dorms could not stand watching me struggle, so he stepped in to help steady the box.

"Your girlfriend is not here to help you?"

I fell silent for a moment. "She is busy."

He sighed. "Even if she is busy, she should come help on a day like graduation."

I had nothing to say to that.

By the time I reached the campus entrance, the sun had climbed high into the sky. I dragged two suitcases behind me, with a large bag weighing down my back. The shoulder strap dug painfully into my skin.

That was when I spotted Natalie in the distance. She stood beside a black passenger van, directing several movers.

"That box has fragile items. Put it on top.

"Do not stack the suitcases sideways. There is a lot of stuff inside."

Ronald stood beside her, handing her a bottle of water.

Once she finished giving instructions, she took the bottle and drank from it. Then she screwed the cap back on and handed it to him.

"Is there anything left?"

Ronald thought for a couple of seconds.

"There is one more bag under the desk in the dorm."

Natalie turned and called out to one of the movers.

"Could you go upstairs one more time? It is under his desk. It is a little heavy, so please be careful when you pick it up."

I stood on the other side of the entrance. One of my suitcase wheels had gotten stuck in a crack between the paving stones, and no matter how hard I pulled, it would not come free.

Natalie turned around and froze when she saw me. She walked a few steps in my direction, her eyes sweeping over the luggage beside me.

"You are still not finished?"

I looked at the passenger van, then at the movers carrying luggage back and forth.

"Did you not say a moving truck was too expensive?"

Natalie followed my gaze and frowned.

"Ronald has a lot of stuff, and his health is not great. I used points to redeem a voucher, so it barely cost me anything.

"You are different. You are strong, and your dorm is closer to the entrance. His dorm is farther away."

She reached out as if to grab my arm, but I took a step back. Her hand closed on empty air, and her expression darkened.

"Ethan, are you seriously comparing yourself to him again?"

Ronald had already gotten into the van. He leaned out of the window.

"Natalie, why not let the movers help Ethan, too? The van has not left yet. I can wait a little."

Natalie turned around immediately.

"No. The movers charge by the hour, and there is an extra fee if they go over."

She turned back to me, her voice growing sharper.

"He cannot handle standing in the sun for too long. Have you finished organizing your things? If you have, take the subway. It is not rush hour yet."

She noticed the skin rubbed raw between my thumb and index finger. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a Band‑Aid and held it out to me.

"Put this on first. You never listen. I reminded you last night to start packing early."

I did not take it.

"Save it for him."

Natalie’s face fell.

"Ethan, stop making those passive‑aggressive comments. You know perfectly well you can handle this yourself, yet you still insist on making me prove something.

"The best thing about our relationship is that we are independent from each other. Do not turn yourself into the kind of person who only knows how to take."

Ronald looked uncomfortable.

"Natalie, why do you not let Ethan take the van? I can manage on my own."

Natalie did not move.

I clenched the tissue in my hand. A little more blood seeped through the torn skin between my thumb and index finger.

"Yeah. You are right."