Chapter 20 Late

Chapter 20 Late
The hum of the electric fan blended with the faint chatter of my classmates. Morning light filtered through the dusty window blinds, casting pale golden streaks across the desks. I was halfway through doodling in my notebook when our professor’s voice cut through the noise.

“Alright, listen up, everyone.” He adjusted his glasses and set a stack of papers on the desk. “Next week is your final exam. Coverage includes everything from Chapters One to Ten, so start reviewing now.”

“Sir, you’ve only taught up to Chapter Seven,” one of my classmates shouted. The entire room erupted in laughter.

I glanced at our professor, whose face was turning a dangerous shade of red. “Who said that?” he barked, scanning the room.

Almost everyone started pointing fingers at each other while I struggled to keep a straight face. His bald head made him look like a bright red egg about to explode.

“Buenavista said it, sir!” our class president yelled.

That bastard. He threw me under the bus even though I was the one holding back my laughter.

“Buenavista!” the professor snapped.

I straightened in my seat. “It wasn’t me, sir. I’ve been quiet here the whole time,” I answered innocently, still fighting a smile.

Since no one confessed, the professor had no choice but to continue the lesson. He even announced that we would finish the remaining chapters in his class today.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the board, keeping my expression neutral. Exams. Another round of sleepless nights, endless coffee, and group chats that started as study sessions but always turned into meme wars. I should be used to it by now.

This kind of thing happened often. Our class president would usually create a group chat to plan a sleepover for review, but it always ended up as a drinking session instead.

The bell finally rang. A wave of relief swept through the classroom. Everyone started packing up, the sound of zippers and rustling bags filling the air. I took my time gathering my things, waiting for the crowd to thin out. My mind was no longer on the upcoming exams—it was on someone else.

Earlier, I had messaged Ethan to ask if he had class today. He said he did, but his shift was at Starbucks, so I offered to drive him. He didn’t complain, so here I was, heading to his classroom.

The hallway buzzed with students laughing and complaining. I made my way to the far end of the corridor where Ethan’s room was located.

The first few times I came here, students stared because my program’s building was far from the nursing building. Now, they were used to seeing me. I showed up almost every day.

As usual, I sat on the bench across from his classroom and scrolled through my phone.

“Good morning. Can I ask you something?”

I looked up from my screen. A guy was standing in front of me.

He was dressed entirely in black and looked effortlessly put-together. The fitted shirt hugged his shoulders and arms perfectly, tucked neatly into tailored trousers. A sleek belt accentuated his waist, and he carried a jacket draped loosely over one arm. The simple outfit made him look sharp and composed in the quiet hallway.

His dark hair was neatly styled, with a few strands falling slightly as he tilted his head. From where I sat, I could see the strong line of his jaw and the calm confidence in his expression. His eyes, focused on me, seemed deep—thoughtful, almost unreadable. There was something about the way he carried himself, poised yet relaxed, that made it hard to look away.

“Sure, what is it, bro?” I replied, quickly adjusting my slightly crumpled uniform. I suddenly felt self-conscious about how messy I looked after our earlier activity.

“I’m looking for Ethan—he’s a nursing student.” He glanced at the room number. “Is this his classroom? He hasn’t been replying to my messages.”

Did they know each other? There were many Ethans, though. Maybe he meant someone else.

“There are a lot of Ethans, bro. Which one are you looking for?” I asked, a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

“Yeah, you’re right. Ethan Hale. I’m looking for him.”

I couldn’t speak for a moment after hearing the name. So we were both waiting for the same Ethan.

“That’s his ro—” Before I could finish, the door to Ethan’s classroom swung open.

The professor stepped out first, carrying a stack of papers, his face tired but composed. Students followed, chatting quietly, their laughter echoing down the hall. A few girls, especially, glanced at the man standing in front of me.

“Blake?” Ethan had just been about to step out when he spotted the guy and froze.

The man smiled—that confident, easy smile that made my chest tighten for reasons I couldn’t explain. “You didn’t reply earlier,” he said, stepping closer and taking Ethan’s bag without hesitation. Ethan handed it over naturally. “Let’s go?”

Why does he have to carry his bag? Ethan has hands.

“Thank you again,” Blake said.

Only then did Ethan notice me sitting behind Blake.

“Lucas?” Surprise flashed across his face.

I stood up slowly, pretending the air between us wasn’t suddenly heavier. “Hey,” I said, forcing a small smile. “I was just waiting for you.”

Blake’s gaze shifted between Ethan and me, his expression barely changing. “Oh,” he said with mild curiosity. “A friend of yours?”

Ethan nodded.

Blake stepped closer and lowered his voice as he handed Ethan a paper bag. “You’ve looked tired lately. Thought you could use something nice today.” His tone was soft and familiar—too familiar.

I pretended to look elsewhere, but my jaw tightened. My hands slipped into my pockets to stop myself from clenching them. I didn’t know who this guy was, but I didn’t like the way he looked at Ethan.

Those eyes are ugly. I want to gouge them out.

“Thank you,” Ethan replied with a smile.

My chest suddenly felt tight. I didn’t know why, but this was the first time Ethan’s smile actually annoyed me.

“Shall we go?”

“I’ll drive you, Ethan.”

Blake and I spoke at the same time. We stared at each other, neither willing to look away first.

“Lucas,” Ethan said, stepping between us.

“Hmm?” I answered calmly.

“Didn’t you read my message?” He frowned.

“Nope.” I pulled out my phone and checked. There was nothing new from him. I was still the last one in our chat.

I turned the screen toward him so he could see.

His eyes widened. “Maybe it didn’t send. My phone died earlier while I was typing it.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not going to work today, so you can head home. You don’t have to drive me.”

I noticed Blake’s arm sliding around Ethan’s waist, and my frown deepened. Too bad I didn’t bring a hand chopper.

“Sorry, I’ll make it up to you,” Ethan added.

“No problem. I’ll just dri—”

“We have plans, bro. I’ll take him,” Blake cut in.

God, I really want to punch this guy. Didn’t he have any manners? We were clearly talking.

“Sorry, Lucas,” Ethan said.

“It’s fine. Enjoy yourselves.” I tapped his shoulder lightly, shot Blake a glare, and walked away.

I went to the gym hoping to clear my head. After seeing Ethan with Blake earlier, something inside me felt unsettled. I told myself a good workout would help.

The air was cool and heavy with the scent of iron and chalk. I slipped on my gloves, adjusted the bench, and started my first set. The familiar burn in my muscles grounded me. Inhale. Exhale. Lift. Drop. Again.

But somewhere between repetitions, my mind drifted. I kept seeing Ethan’s face—his easy smile, the gentle way he spoke to Blake. It was different from how he acted with me.

I pushed harder, adding more weight, letting the ache drown everything out. For a moment, it worked. The burn silenced my thoughts. But in the quiet between sets, Ethan’s name slipped back into my mind like muscle memory.

I leaned back against the bench, breathing heavily. The ceiling lights blurred for a second.

Why does he get to me like this?

He was just Ethan—ordinary, quiet, distant. Nothing special. But lately, every small thing about him felt different. The way he looked at me. Or maybe the way I looked at him.

I sighed. I didn’t know what was happening to me anymore. My head felt like it was about to explode from overthinking.

I shook my head, reached for my towel, and let out a half-laugh at myself.

“Fuck. I think I’m going crazy.”

After an hour, I finished my set and sat on the bench, catching my breath.

My phone lit up. It was a message from Elijah.

Elijah Hale
Kuya Lucas, it’s Kuya’s birthday next week. Can you help us plan?

A small smile tugged at my lips. Ethan’s birthday, huh?

Lucas Buenavista
Sure. Don’t tell your brother. Let’s surprise him.

After sending the reply, I stared at the ceiling again.

As I packed up my things, I couldn’t shake the feeling completely. The gym hadn’t cleared my head—it had only made it half clearer.

The weekend arrived faster than expected. By Saturday morning, I was already driving to the mall to meet Elijah. He had asked if we could talk about Ethan’s upcoming birthday and wanted to plan something simple for his Kuya. I agreed without hesitation.

In the days that had passed, I tried hard not to think about Ethan. I felt like I was losing my mind. He had messaged me several times—I read them all, replied to some, but my answers were shorter than usual.

I knew what was happening to me, but I kept pushing it away. Ethan and I were just friends. That was all.

The drive was quiet. No music this time. My phone buzzed a few times on the passenger seat with Ethan’s name, but I didn’t answer.

When I reached the mall, Elijah was already waiting near the café, waving enthusiastically.

He looked so much like Ethan when he smiled—it made my chest tighten in that same confusing way.

“Kuya Lucas!” he greeted with a grin. “I thought you weren’t coming. You didn’t reply to my message.”

I ruffled his hair and sat beside him. “No phones while driving.”

We spent the next hour discussing ideas—cakes, gifts, and decorations. Elijah wanted to surprise his brother at home after work. I nodded along, offering suggestions while pretending I wasn’t distracted. Every time Ethan’s name came up, something inside me stirred.

“Kuya, can you come with me to National Bookstore? I want to buy something for Kuya,” Elijah said.

I nodded, then went to the counter to buy some cookies. I planned to send them to Elijah for Elise and Evan.

As we walked toward the bookstore, my phone lit up with a new message from Ethan.

Ethan Hale
When are you free? Let’s go out. My treat.

I signaled Elijah to go inside the store while I replied.

I thought of an excuse.

Lucas Buenavista
Busy reviewing.

Out of all his messages, that was the only one I replied to.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and followed Elijah inside. It took me a few minutes to find him in the book section.

“What are you buying?” I asked calmly, watching him browse the shelves.

“Kuya Ethan wants a book but can’t buy it, so I’ll get it for him. It can be my gift too.” His eyes stayed on the books.

“Which book?” I asked, wanting to help.

“Atlas of Human Anatomy, Kuya Lucas. The 7th edition.”

I nodded and started searching with him.

We were quiet for several minutes, both focused on the hunt.

“Elijah,” I broke the silence.

He turned to me. “Did you find it?”

I chuckled softly. “Not yet.” He went back to searching. “Where are your parents?” The book slipped from his hands when he looked at me again.

“Why are you asking?” he said, picking it up.

“Just curious. I’ve been to your house several times, but it’s always just the four of you.”

He suddenly went quiet and closed his eyes. I couldn’t stop myself. I really wanted to know why their parents had left everything to Ethan.

“It’s a long story, Kuya Lucas. Sorry… Kuya doesn’t like telling other people about our family—”

“It’s okay. Forget I asked,” I interrupted.

I shouldn’t have brought it up. Elijah might think badly of me and tell his brother.

We both fell silent and returned to looking for the book.

“Kuya Lucas, are you courting my Kuya Ethan?” he asked suddenly.

I dropped the book I was holding. He laughed at me.

“We’re just friends,” I answered, picking it up.

“Oh. I thought you were courting him too, like Kuya Blake.” I dropped the book again.

“Blake is courting Ethan?”

My voice was loud enough that other customers turned to look. I ignored them and stepped closer to Elijah.

“That’s what I know. He’s been courting Kuya for quite a while now.”

So that’s why Blake acted that way last time. He was pursuing Ethan.

I handed Elijah the book I had actually found earlier. I just hadn’t given it to him right away because I thought I might learn something nice about Ethan.

Technically, I did learn something. It just wasn’t nice.

After paying for the book, we left the store with a small paper bag in Elijah’s hand. He was grinning, clearly proud of his choice.

“I’m sure Kuya will like this,” he said, hugging the bag as we walked toward the elevator.

“I’m sure he will,” I replied with a small smile. “You know your brother best.”

The elevator ride down to the basement was quiet, filled only with faint background music and our reflections in the mirrored walls. Elijah talked excitedly about how he wanted to wrap the gift while I nodded, only half-listening, distracted by my own thoughts.

When the doors opened, the cool, dim air of the basement greeted us. We started walking toward my car.

“Let’s go. I’ll drive you home,” I said, unlocking the doors.

But before I could open them, a familiar figure across the parking lane caught my eye. My chest tightened.

Ethan.

He was standing near a black sedan, talking to someone through the window. His voice didn’t reach me, but his expression did—that small, easy smile that always softened his face. After a moment, he opened the door and got inside.

I froze.

For a second, everything else faded—the sound of Elijah talking beside me, the echo of footsteps, even the click of my car’s locks. All I could focus on was Ethan’s car pulling away, its taillights glowing briefly before disappearing up the ramp.

And for some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was too late for something I didn’t even fully understand yet.