Today was my first day at Riverside University. Lily and I finally made it in — she's studying Broadcasting, I'm in Medicine. We were supposed to stick together, but fate decided to separate us before lunchtime. Her building's on the south side, mine on the far north — a full ten-minute walk if you know where you're going, twenty if you don't. Guess which category I fell into.
The campus was bursting with life — laughter, photos, new faces, the smell of burnt coffee everywhere. I wanted to feel that same spark of excitement, but all I could think was please don't make me talk to anyone.
Halfway to the wrong building, I heard someone call out.
"Hey, future doctor! You dropped your ID!"
I turned and saw him — tall, curly dark hair, kind eyes, holding out my card like it was a rescue mission.
"Thanks," I said, taking it back.
He smiled, almost boyishly. "No problem. But maybe you should buy me lunch as a thank-you?"
"I'd rather fail my first day."
"Challenge accepted!" he laughed.
I rolled my eyes and walked away, pretending not to smile.
That was how I met Andre Lacoste, a first-year law student. He was everything I usually avoided — confident, talkative, too warm for comfort.
---
Two days later, I got a text from an unknown number:
> Good morning, Dr. Ray. Don't forget your ID today. —A
I almost blocked him. Almost.
Later that day, Lily confessed, trying not to grin,
> "He asked for your number, and I figured—why not? You've been acting like a ghost lately."
I glared at her. "You gave my number to a stranger."
"Not a stranger," she said smugly. "A very cute stranger. You're welcome."
And just like that, Andre had an open door.
---
He started texting me daily — simple things at first.
> How's anatomy?
Did you eat lunch?
If you faint from hunger, I'll have to sue the cafeteria for emotional damage.
Ridiculous. But I never told him to stop.
He'd wave when we passed on campus, sit beside me when Lily was busy, and tell the most absurd lawyer jokes.
> "You know, if this were a courtroom, I'd win any case against you."
"Not possible," I'd reply. "Doctors always win in the end — we get the final word on your heartbeat."
He laughed so loudly people turned. I pretended I didn't enjoy it.
---
By the fourth month, his persistence had become… familiar. The texts, the notes on my desk, the coffee he somehow always found an excuse to buy me.
Lily teased me nonstop.
> "You act cold, but your phone lights up and you smile every time it's him."
"That's called amusement, not affection."
"Sure, Doctor Denial."
But she was right. I was smiling more — and that terrified me.
---
Six months. Six long, persistent months before I finally agreed to go on a date. It happened in the library, surrounded by whispering students and the faint smell of coffee.
Andre leaned across the table and whispered, "So… if I filed an official request for a date, would you approve it?"
I sighed. "Denied."
"Appeal?"
"You're hopeless."
He grinned, eyes lighting up. "Then say yes. Save a man from heartbreak."
I don't know why I said it — maybe because I was tired of pretending not to care.
But I did.
---
So here we are — me, the cold medical student who doesn't fall easily, and Andre Lacoste, the law student who smiled his way into my diary.
Lily says she created a monster. Maybe she did.
But tonight, when he texted,
> Goodnight, Dr. Ray. Sweet dreams, my favorite case study,
I caught myself smiling.
Don't tell him that.