Chapter 13: A Little Absentmindedness
The next morning, before my alarm even went off, I was startled awake by the ringing of my phone. Still half-asleep, I picked it up.
"I'm here to take you to school. Come down."
My eyes snapped wide open in shock. What the hell? Why was he here so early? Was he planning to haunt me now? And wait—how did he even get my number?!
I limped to the door and opened it, only to see him standing right there. My face was a giant "Huh?" in capital letters.
This was the girls' dormitory! Boys weren't allowed in! Shouldn't he be waiting downstairs like a normal person? What was he trying to do—spy on female students?!
He shoved a bag into my hands.
"Change into this. Tonight, have dinner with me."
My expression instantly soured, and I snapped at him.
"Get lost. You want me to wear this so some random gangsters can hit on me? I can go to school by myself."
He didn't say anything, just stood there silently.
I stole a glance at him. His face was still bruised, the scratch on his lip untouched. And his eyes… they looked like I had just deeply wounded him.
Why did he look like I had just made him pregnant or something?!
Crap. Now I felt guilty. It seemed like I had no choice but to take responsibility.
I sighed and muttered, "Fine, wait here."
For a moment, the fake pitiful look on his face seemed to soften into a smirk.
I tiptoed back into my room and grabbed some medicine and bandages. Thanks to Tuong Vy—who was constantly getting into fights and doing reckless things like rollerblading and ice skating—our room was always stocked with first-aid supplies.
When I returned, I gestured for him to sit down. Carefully, I applied the bruise-healing ointment to his face, massaging it gently. Then, I moved on to disinfecting and bandaging his wounds.
He just stared at me.
Intensely.
The weather wasn't cold, yet I felt chills all over.
"You move just like my mom… and like…"
His voice was soft, almost nostalgic.
The way he looked at me, the way his voice sounded—it was dangerous. Beautiful boys were dangerous. Could they kill people with their eyes and voices alone?!
I forced my face into an expression of absolute indifference. (This was a skill I had learned from Mr Aunt, and it had been polished to perfection thanks to my friendship with Duyen. The key was maintaining a calm, unreadable demeanor—like still water.)
Without another word, I stood up and walked back inside.
"Wait for me downstairs."
He had come all this way… After what happened last night, I couldn't bring myself to be completely heartless.
I glanced at the bag he had given me.
A beautiful dress and a pair of ballet flats. No doubt, they were expensive. Probably outrageously so.
If he failed to win me over and later decided to demand a refund on his investment, what the hell would I do?
…Whatever. I wasn't going to think too much about it.
I grabbed the dress and rushed to take a quick shower.
By the time I was ready, the other girls in the dorm were starting to wake up. I turned to Duyen.
"I'm heading out first today. Someone's picking me up. Just today, I promise."
Duyen smirked mischievously.
"Your leg still hurts. Let him take you to school until you recover. I don't want to walk with someone who's limping," she teased, emphasizing "him" on purpose.
Duyen was obviously trying to push me toward Mr. Nice Ass.
If I really used the notebook to bind him to me for life, that would make me the sister-in-law of that pervert, Tran Binh Minh. Just the thought alone gave me goosebumps.
Duyen wouldn't understand. Hell, I didn't even understand the mess of emotions inside me right now.
I clutched the pink notebook. This time, no matter what I said, Mr. Nice Ass wouldn't be able to refuse.
But instead of taking me straight to school, he turned the car toward the hospital.
At first, I thought he was going in for a checkup himself, so I didn't protest. But then—surprise!—he insisted I go in for an examination. If I refused, he said he'd carry me in himself.
Well, I did want him to get checked too. After all, he took such a bad beating yesterday. If he didn't get examined, I wouldn't feel at ease either.
So I made a deal: I'll go if you go.
He agreed.
We sat in the waiting area, completely at ease, no need to fight for seats. When I reminded him to go register, he just waved me off.
"Just wait a bit."
A few moments later, the hospital director himself came over.
He and Mr. Nice Ass shook hands like old friends, and then the director assigned us to a young department head for our checkups.
…Was all this really necessary for just a few minor injuries?
Even without showing off, everyone could already tell he came from a wealthy, powerful family. From what I had gathered while snooping on Tran Binh Minh, Mr. Nice Ass's father worked in the security bureau, his mother was a businesswoman, and he himself was already a CEO of a corporation.
The nurses treated his wounds, but he refused to let them remove the bandages I had put on his face.
His body was covered in bruises, but fortunately, no fractures. I glanced at the medical report.
"Tran Hung Phong, 27 years old, soft tissue injuries…"
I felt relieved.
As for me? Just a sprained ankle.
But thinking about his injuries… guilt gnawed at me.
I owed him.
—
When the car stopped at my school's entrance, I stepped out and turned back to lecture him.
"Listen to me. First, you don't need to pick me up for school anymore. Second, take care of your wounds properly—don't let them scar. That pretty face is bait for girls, so you better keep it intact. Third, I'm not having dinner with you tonight. Now, go home."
He gave a quiet "Mm." Then, without another word, he drove off.
I limped into school.
—
I didn't understand why Mr. Nice Ass always picked white dresses for me.
Yesterday, it was a body-hugging cotton dress. Today, it was a flowy chiffon one.
Every single dress fit me perfectly. The fabric was soft and light as air. They hugged my figure yet flowed effortlessly.
They reminded me of the lace princess dress I had worn when I went to cheer at a soccer match.