Cyrus was sick.
He lay listlessly on the desk, his cheeks an odd shade of red.
Taking advantage of his sleep, I cautiously reached out to touch his forehead.
It was hot.
At this temperature, Cyrus would surely be delirious.
But before I could pull my hand back, Cyrus caught it.
His hand gripped my wrist tightly, causing me pain.
Who gets so strong when they're sick?
"Who told you to touch me?"
"You have a fever..."
"Who the hell told you to touch me!"
Cyrus looked at me with disgust.
My hand really hurt from his grip; he was squeezing so hard it felt like my bones were about to break.
There was nothing I could do but smile apologetically and apologize.
Finally, he let go of my hand and got up to go to the bathroom as if I were dirty.
But I bathe every day.
I had also put on hand cream that smelled nice.
Well, maybe he didn't like the scent of this hand cream?
Then I'll change to another one tomorrow.
How about cherry blossom scent?
...
Cyrus never liked taking medicine, not when he was little, and not now.
But not taking medicine when you're sick is no good.
If you don't take medicine, your condition can worsen and you might die.
If he died, his mother would be alone and heartbroken.
I secretly brought some medicine from home to school.
Cyrus didn't like me touching him.
So I poked his jacket with a ruler and called his name softly, "Cyrus." "Cyrus."
He ignored me.
I continued poking him, "Just acknowledge me."
"Abby, do you want to die?"
Finally, he turned around to face me.
Though he still looked angry.
Hastily, I handed him the medicine in my bag and held out my other hand, palm up.
"Cyrus, you need to take your medicine."
"Since you hate me, how about you take one pill and I let you hit me once?"
Cyrus froze.
I took the chance to lick my lips and asked, "But can you hit a little lighter? I'm afraid of pain."
His expression was complicated.
He stared at my face for several seconds.
Finally, he managed to say, "You're crazy."
Tsk.
That was a rather weak insult.
Not at all like his usual harshness.
But he still threw my medicine back at me.
Boys who don't like taking medicine and don't listen are really difficult to deal with.
So, before school ended, I secretly put the medicine in his backpack.
And I attached a note:
If you don't take your medicine, I'll bother you every day next week.
...
Later, I fell sick.
The medicine was too bitter, and I didn't want to take it.
Cyrus stayed by my bedside, carefully portioning out each pill and placing my hand over them.
I was in so much pain that I didn't want to move at all, keeping my mouth tightly shut.
I heard him choke up as he said,
"Abby, will you take your medicine? If you take it, I won't bother you anymore."
Tsk.
Cyrus has been top of the class for so long.
And yet he copied my reasons to persuade someone to take medicine.
Cyrus recovered quickly.
Probably because he took his medicine obediently.
I am an honest and excellent female student.
So I had to keep my promise.
The first day without bothering Cyrus.
I went downstairs to look for a junior.
Sigh.
He's such a bookworm.
Everyone else was playing and laughing during breaks, but he was engrossed in his homework.
I tapped on the window next to him.
He jumped in surprise.
He literally leaped off his chair.
I was stunned.
Then I started laughing, holding my stomach.
I laughed until his face turned red.
I kept laughing even after he opened the window and quietly told me to stop.
Laughing until...
Well, he covered my mouth with his hand, and I couldn't laugh anymore.
But I blew into his palm.
He jumped again in fright.
This time, even his ears turned red.
This kid is too easy to tease.
I ruffled his hair.
"Come on, I'll buy you S'mores."
He blinked, looking aggrieved, "Where can you buy S'mores in school?"
I smiled mysteriously, "See, you underestimated me."
So during lunch break, my junior and I each held a S'more and squatted beside the abandoned basketball court.
I raised an eyebrow at him, "Good, right?"
He nodded hurriedly, swallowing, "But isn't it against the rules to bring snacks into school?"
I patted him on the shoulder mysteriously, "There's always a corner of the school that's hard to find."
My junior gave me a thumbs up, clearly impressed.
Then, just as I was about to boast proudly,
a figure suddenly appeared behind the wall, leaving me speechless.
"But today, this place doesn't seem to be..."
...
The first day without bothering Cyrus.
Cyrus tattled on me.
Cyrus was not very loyal.
Oh, my junior's name is Evan Scribner.
It suits his bookworm image perfectly.
