Chapter 4The Last Thing I Learned

The driver rolled down the window and honked. Natalie glanced at the time, then turned and climbed into the van.

"I am going to follow the van and help deliver Ronald’s things to his new place. Then I will go to the airport with him. Hurry up and manage your own schedule. Do not be late."

The van drove away, its exhaust stirring a few scraps of colored paper left over from the graduation ceremony.

I pulled my suitcase free from the crack between the paving stones and flagged down a taxi.

The driver leaned out the window.

"Where to?"

I shoved my luggage into the back seat and closed the door.

"The airport."

As the taxi merged onto the elevated highway, Natalie sent me a spreadsheet.

[Detailed Graduation Trip Budget]

The final line read:

[Ethan’s outstanding balance: $1,260]

A voice message followed.

"Remember to transfer the money. Do not put it off and mess up the accounts later."

I did not open it.

The school gates grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

The airport was loud and crowded.

I sat by the window in Terminal 3, my boarding pass resting on my knees.

Sunridge City, 2:50 p.m.

Natalie and Ronald’s flight was leaving from Terminal 1.

The three of us had originally planned to leave from there together and take a graduation trip to Solmere Island in the south.

Now, I had changed my destination.

At two that afternoon, a message from Natalie appeared.

[Where are you?]

I did not reply.

Two minutes later, she sent another message.

[Ronald and I are in the lounge. We skipped lunch, so I got him some hot food.]

[You can buy yourself a sandwich outside and make do. Bringing a guest into the VIP lounge costs extra, and it is not worth the money.]

Another payment reminder appeared underneath.

[Did you check the budget? Transfer the $1,260 first.]

I stared at those lines and suddenly felt like laughing.

A woman at the convenience store handed me a carton of warmed milk.

"Careful, young man. It is hot."

"Thank you."

Warmth wrapped around my fingers, slowly chasing away the cold.

I opened my photo album and arranged the screenshots I had saved earlier, one after another: meal packages for two, couple movie tickets, and limited‑edition sneakers. Each order had a different note attached.

[Ronald loves sweets.]

[His stomach is sensitive. Keep the seats away from the air‑conditioning vent.]

[He said he wanted to try the couples’ theater.]

The earliest screenshot was from our first year together.

It had been my birthday.

Natalie had taken me to the food court on the second floor of the student center, where we ate steaming bowls of Korean spicy soup.

We had each paid for our own meal.

She gave me a secondhand book. On the title page, she had written:

[A connection of the mind is worth more than any gift.]

I had held that book in my hands and been so happy that I could not fall asleep that night.

That same day, she bought Ronald two tickets to a couples’ theater.

The note read:

[He is feeling down. I want to keep him company and help him clear his head.]

My phone vibrated. Ronald had sent me a photo.

He was sitting on a couch in the airport lounge. In front of him were a bowl of hot soup, a plate of cut fruit, and a cup of yogurt. In the corner of the picture, Natalie’s hand hovered over the yogurt as she peeled back the seal for him.

[Ethan, have you arrived? Natalie said you only had a sandwich outside. Do not keep settling for whatever is convenient. Remember to eat something hot.]

I saved the picture.

Passengers began lining up at the gate when Natalie’s call came through.

"Ethan, what is going on with you? You are not answering my messages, and you have not sent the money.

"Are you upset about the lounge again?"

I said nothing.

She sighed.

"It is not that I do not want you to come in. Adding one person costs $380. That is a lot of money. You could buy so many other things with it.

"You have always been good at managing money. Why are you acting so difficult today?"

Ronald’s voice came from the other end of the call.

"Natalie, do not be so hard on Ethan. Maybe he just has not had a chance to reply."

She covered the microphone and murmured something to reassure him. When she came back on the line, her voice had taken on the tone of someone delivering a lecture.

"Ethan, Ronald is your best friend.

"I am taking care of him for you. If you do not appreciate it, fine, but stop putting everyone in an awkward position."

"Natalie Charlton."

She fell silent.

I rarely called her by her full name.

"Do you remember the time I had a fever? You told me that we should each take care of our own problems."

"Why are you bringing that up now?" Her voice grew irritated. "I was working on a project that day, and the pharmacy was not far from your dorm. Ethan, are you really going to drag up something from last year?"

I selected all the screenshots and sent them to her, one after another. The progress bar raced across the screen, and within seconds, every image had been sent. Natalie did not say a word.

The airport announcement rang out:

"Attention, passengers traveling to Sunridge City. Your flight is about to close its boarding doors. Please proceed to the gate immediately."

I stood up and threw the carton of milk into the trash.

Finally, Natalie spoke.

"Ethan, you went through my photo album?"

I pressed the phone closer to my ear.

"Natalie, thank you for spending these four years splitting every bill with me so carefully. I guess it helped you save enough money to support Ronald."

"Let me explain." Her breathing grew uneven. "Those things are not what you think."

Ronald’s voice followed immediately. "Natalie? What screenshots? What did Ethan send you?"

Natalie snapped at him in a low voice. "Do not say anything."

I started walking toward the gate.

"You two can go on the graduation trip without me. It will be less crowded with just the two of you. Perfect, actually."

"Ethan, where are you?" Her voice rose sharply. "I will come find you. Do not go running off somewhere."

"Let us break up."

I pulled the phone away from my ear and ended the call. Then, I cut off every way she could reach me. I stopped receiving her messages and stopped answering her calls.

The gate agent took my identification and smiled.

"Have a safe flight."

I walked into the jet bridge. The glass walls shut out the noise behind me.

As the plane began to taxi, an unfamiliar number called my phone. The number was from a local area code.

I did not need to guess who it was.

Outside the window, the runway rushed past.

The moment the plane lifted into the air, the city below the clouds shrank into a gray‑white blur.