Chapter 3

I finished cleaning the mess. I gathered the shattered flower pot into a temporary plastic bag. It was actually my favorite one. Guess I’ll have to buy a new one now. I washed up and changed into a simple outfit—a blue T-shirt with black pajama pants.

I walked into the room and sat on the couch where Lio had laid. I picked up my favorite book and started reading, trying to distract myself from thoughts of Lio. After all the pain I went through to forget him, I didn’t want it to come back again. But deep down, I still wanted to know—why did he leave like that?

My mind was a mess until my phone rang. It was Jim. I picked up.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Liss, I’m in front of your door. Open up!” he said. Was he really that tempted not to knock?

I ended the call without responding and went to open the door. As I opened it, I yelled at him,

“What’s the use of your hands? Can’t you knock?”

He just laughed it off. I stomped angrily back into the room and sat down while he slowly closed the door, taking his time to look around.

He noticed the photo frames from our high school days. There were none of him, so maybe he felt a little sting in his heart. He would’ve been in that graduation photo—if only he hadn’t flunked his language classes.

He examined the furniture arrangement and moved toward my cat-shaped shelf, admiring the books. I saw him nod with satisfaction before turning to look at me.

“I bet all these books have something to do with Lio,” he smirked.

All I could do was roll my eyes. He wandered around, going from the living room to the kitchen and then toward my bedroom—

No, wait!

I panicked. Did I leave my panties on the bed?

Thankfully, Jim was kind enough not to enter.

“I respect people’s privacy,” he said casually, then came back to the room.

“Stop already! What are you—a cop searching for evidence? Sit down!” I yelled.

He shot me a look and sat on the single-seater couch.

“Oh, where did you hide Lio?” he asked enthusiastically.

“He ran away,” I told him.

“Whattt?” His eyes widened. “Why are you so chill about it?”

Is there any reason for me to worry? Who even is he to me?

I didn’t answer. Instead, I told him about the note Lio left.

“At least he knows what he’s doing,” Jim smiled.

“Oh, right. I forgot you were a guest. Let me bring you something to drink.” I stood up and headed to the kitchen, but then he called out.

I turned around.

“I only drink coffee,” he said, raising his left eyebrow and winking.

“Yes, sir,” I said and left.

I made him a coffee and a hot milk for myself. On the way back, I saw Jim holding my old diary—the one with the Spider-Man cover.

“Hey! Is this how you respect privacy?” I burst out.

“What’s there to hide? I know everything,” he said calmly. “I’m just surprised you still have this,” he added with a warm smile.

“Whatever. I was gonna throw it out sooner or later,” I said awkwardly, unsure where that came from.

Then, he started dialing Lio’s number.

“I was actually waiting for you, so you could hear what we’re talking about too,” he smirked.

I rolled my eyes.

“Please don’t tell him I’m with you,” I requested.

He nodded.

Lio picked up the phone, and my heart started racing as if I were the one calling. Jim quickly put it on speaker.

“Hello,” Lio said, his voice rusty.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

“Man, how have you been? It’s me, Jim!” Jim said, excited but emotional.

“Hello, Jim. It’s been a while,” Lio replied with a low voice and a soft chuckle.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I heard from Liss— I mean, from Lissy—that you were injured. Are you okay, man?” Jim asked, concerned.

Lio chuckled. “What worse could happen to me? My life’s always been like this and probably always will be. I was trying so hard to avoid Liss—”

My heart skipped a beat.

“It’s funny how I always end up meeting her when I’m in a state like this,” he said, sounding sad. I could hear the pain in his voice. I couldn’t tell if it came from guilt or love.

“Man, it’s fine. It’s no big deal. I know she doesn’t care,” he said, maybe trying to convince himself. I looked away.

“But I care,” Lio blurted out. “I couldn’t even exchange a word with her after she helped me. Instead, I messed up her room and broke one of her flower pots.” His voice broke a little.

I never thought he felt this way.

Jim smiled and suggested, “How about you buy her a new one?”

“No,” Lio said firmly. “I don’t want to give her false hope—make her think I’m in love with her.”

My heart shattered. But somehow, it was exactly what I’d always expected from him.

I stood up and took my cup to the kitchen.

What was I even expecting from him? He was always ungrateful. I don’t remember a single thing he appreciated. And me? I’m always driven by the smallest bit of care someone gives me.

I hate feeling like this. I hate myself for feeling like this after I said I’d moved on.

I couldn’t leave my guest alone, so I went back to the room. It seemed they’d wrapped up the conversation.

I walked in awkwardly. Jim looked at me with a disappointed expression.

“What?” I asked.

“Why did you walk away?” he challenged.

I stayed quiet and sat down. “I took my empty cup to the sink.”

He glared at me and sighed. “Still running away instead of facing things. You haven’t changed.”

What? I thought to myself.

I curled up on the couch, resting my head on my knees, drifting back to memories—how Lio used to get worked up when I ignored him, how my heart would flutter, how we used to solve math problems together.

Now, those memories just haunt me. Sometimes, I wish they’d never happened.

“Wow, Liss. Look at this,” Jim said, holding up a passage from my diary.

I looked over, uninterested—until I realized it was something I’d written about Lio.

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