I walked into the cafeteria, rubbing my eyes tiredly, trying to ignore my stuffy nose.

"Clara!"

I looked up, seeing her balancing both our lunch trays.

She scanned the tables, finding Daisy who was waving her over with Wyatt. "Sit with us!"

"I have to get back," she replied, trying not to drop the strawberry milk on her tray.

"Just take a break, come on. Two minutes," Wyatt nodded.

Asshole. I could be dying upstairs.

She sighed in defeat and walked over, putting the trays down. She pushed them away and whined, putting her head down on the table, facing the empty chair I usually sit on.

"What's wrong with you?" Daisy asked.

"I'm so drained. I didn't realize how exhausting it would be catching up in all my subjects, you know," she complained, resting her head on her arm and closing her eyes.

She's drained. And taking care of me is probably draining her even more.

Wyatt spun around, his eyes landing on me.

I forgot you can read minds.

I know he read that too. He smiled cheekily and then resumed sketching. I walked over to the table, ignoring the eyes on me for being in my pajamas. I scratched the back of my head, sitting down and putting my pounding head on the table, resting it on my arm like Clara was. I was facing her. Actually, I was staring at her.

Does she know you like her?

Why is Wyatt trying to talk like this?

No.

His foot nudged mine.

Keep it that way.

I frowned.

Or what?

Wyatt cleared his throat and Clara sighed, "I should get back." She opened her eyes which widened as she saw me. She shot out of her seat, standing upright. "Sorry. Did you come down here because you were hungry? I was heading back anyway. Come on, we can—"

I grabbed her hand, pulling her back down. "I'm already here. We can eat," I said.

"Why did you come down here?" she scolded, sliding my tray over to me. "You're meant to be in bed and resting."

"I'm just a little sick, Clara. I'm not dying," I scoffed.

"Don't say that like it's nothing," she snapped, her gaze hardening.

I opened my mouth to say something and then realized why she must have felt offended. "Sorry, I didn't—"

"I didn't know if you like strawberry or chocolate. Here. I'll take the one you don't want," she said, cutting me off while pointing to the two milk cartons. "Actually, have them both. I'm not hungry." She stood up, pushing her chair back, and then turned to leave.

I grabbed her wrist. "Clara, I..." I sighed.

"I'm fine. I just need a minute," she said softly, pulling her wrist out of my grasp before rushing out of there. She crashed into someone at the door but didn't bother stopping.

I groaned, closing my eyes.

"You're just such an idiot, aren't you? What is wrong with you?" Wyatt smacked my shoulder.

"I didn't know what I was saying. I forgot, okay?" I whined.

"How can you forget? It matters most to her," Daisy sighed, putting her pencil down.

I looked at her warily.

Does she know?

"He already told me," she said, glancing at Wyatt.

I glared at him, clenching my jaw but that only made my head hurt more.

"Why do you like her? She doesn't even know anything yet. You know, my dad asked me to keep her away from you," she scoffed.

"Are you always such a—"

"But she likes you too."

"What?" I straightened up.

"I tried stopping her," she shrugged. "But I can't anymore. She doesn't know. Anything. Let's keep it that way until the principal tells her. And you can keep sweeping her off her feet, hmm?"

"You tried so hard to keep her away from me. Even dragged her out of here. You'll stop now? So easily?" I stood up, taking my tray and Clara's.

"I don't want her to hate me because I didn't approve of you," she said, rolling her eyes. "And if you like her, then there's no way I could have kept her away. Please, we all know that," she scoffed.

"Smart decision, thanks," I smirked, leaving after that. When I got upstairs, Clara was leaning against my door, her arms folded across her chest. I walked over, standing in front of her.

"I didn't have the keys with me," she mumbled, snatching them out of my pocket and opening the door, walking in ahead of me. I walked in behind her and put the trays on the bed. She put my keys on the nightstand and was aiming to walk around the bed to her side but I grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "What?" she huffed, looking anywhere but at me.

"Clara... I didn't mean to- can you look at me?"

She rolled her eyes, her jaw clenched. But she looked at me.

"I didn't mean it like that. I didn't realize how you would feel about it, I forgot. I'm really sorry," I explained.

"It's fine," she huffed.

"Don't say that if you don't mean it."

"I mean it, Callum. I'm fine," she spat.

Oh, she's so angry.

"Say it like you mean it," I argued, locking my arms around her waist.

"What are you doing? Let go of me."

"Not until you forgive me," I shrugged.

"Callum, let go!"

"Nope."

"Callum!"

"Say it like you mean it."

She scoffed, trying to pry my hands off of her. "I won't let go." She looked up, her eyes meeting mine and she stopped struggling, her eyes softening. She sighed in defeat, nodding slowly. "I'm okay. And it's fine, really. You didn't realize what you were saying. Happens to the best of us," she mumbled, pulling away.

I'm beating myself. Shooting myself. Stabbing myself. All of the above.

"You should eat, you have medicine to take," she said, sitting on her side of the bed and pulling the tray with the strawberry milk towards herself.

"I guess I don't get that choice now?"

"Obviously not," she retorted, stabbing the straw through the top.

My eyes fell to the flower at my window.

It's wilting.

I walked over and acted like I was shuffling through my desk for something. When I knew she wasn't looking, I brought it back to life. I turned to go sit on the bed but I nearly lost my balance because my head was now spinning.

"Are you okay?" she asked while kneeling on the bed and crawling over, steadying me.

"I'm dizzy," I sighed.

What is happening to me?

"Maybe you should have listened to the nurse instead of doing what you just did," she scolded, making me sit in bed.

"What?" I stared at her in shock.

Does she know? Has the principal told her? Did she know from the beginning?

"What did you do? Don't move around, just sit in bed," she huffed. "Isn't that what the nurse told you to do?"

I sighed in relief, leaning against the headboard. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I was just looking for um... nevermind," I shook my head.

"Eat and then take your medicine."

"Aren't you meant to go see your dad today? You said you would when he dropped by," I said, taking a bite out of the french toast.

"I was supposed to but I'm not leaving you like this when you can barely function. I already told him that, he said he might drop by instead."

I frowned. "Your first weekend and you're stuck here because of me."

"It doesn't matter. Most of the students are heading out anyway. Daisy is too. Does Wyatt go?" she asked.

"No, he doesn't. His parents don't live in Ilea. His parents used to live here, he's born here. But they left for London and they enrolled him into Arcane before that."

"Which one of his parents are Korean?" she asked.

"His mom. Mrs. Cho," I answered.

"They must visit him sometimes, right?"

"On occasions. His birthday, mainly. Other than that, not really. He's kind of considered the problem child between him and his sister."

"Oh, he has a sister?"

"Yeah, she's older by two years, I think. She's studying in London and she stays with her parents. Basically, Wyatt and I both were labeled the problem child. And I don't know how that happened to me because I'm an only child. But it did," I shrugged.

"But your mom—"

"Doesn't see me as the problem. I'm not really the problem. I just have to live with the problem. It's in me," I explained.

"There's no problem in you, what are you talking about?" Her brows furrowed in confusion.

I let out a chuckle, "There are so many problems with me, you have no idea."

"I don't see any."

"You don't know me well enough to see them for the problems they are yet," I replied.

"So tell me," she shrugged. "What's the problem? What's wrong with you?"

I stared at her, thinking of how to respond to that. "You never take me seriously. Do you?" I asked.

She sighed, turning her body to face me. "I do take you seriously. Very seriously. I just don't think you're a problem. At all. And I don't think there's anything wrong with you."

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