Chapter 7 - Holding on

Chapter 7 – Holding On

1st January 2024

The first sunrise of the year peeked through my window, painting soft orange streaks across my desk where a half-finished math worksheet still lay.Today, Vietnamese students are all allowed to stay at home. I hadn't slept. Not properly. My eyes were closed, but my mind... it kept replaying that one message:

"Lola… one day, I'll find you. Not on screen. In real life. Promise."

His words wrapped around my heart like a soft thread, sweet and dangerous. I should have felt happy. I did. But I also felt scared. Because promises don't always survive reality. And dreams? They blur in the daylight. Actually, i never trust in promises.

I hadn't replied. Not because I didn't want to. But because I didn't know how to touch something so gentle without breaking it.

I sat up and caught my reflection in the mirror with puffy eyes, tangled hair, leftover blush from last night smudged under one eye like a war stripe.

"So this is what love does to a girl." I muttered

It wasn't really a joke. But saying it out loud made it feel a little less heavy.

Yazid. My Shin. My ghost boy with exams heavier than mountains and a heart he never showed fully. But somehow... I kept waiting. For his return. For his messages. For that one voice that made me feel less alone in a world that didn't always understand. I BELIEVE HIM. 

2nd January 2024

No message.

I tried to be dramatic and toss my phone on the bed. It landed on my pillow like a feather, utterly unimpressed with my suffering.

"I don't care". I told myself.

I cared.

I checked my phone every hour. I made excuses for him. He was busy. Studying. Dead. Okay, probably not dead.

This silence. Like being left on read by the stars.

3rd January 2024

ting... a familiar sound

"Still alive, Princess? Or did you sleep for 72 hours straight?"

God. I almost threw my phone. From joy.

"Alive. Barely. I think I turned into a potato though," I texted back.

"A cute potato."

I screamed into my pillow.

We texted like always. School. Stress. His mom's phone-policing becoming a dictatorship. His GPA looming like a boss fight.

"Your mom is scarier than a Thai horror movie," I joked.

"You haven't met my dad. He's the sequel."

Laughter bubbled out of me. Real laughter. The kind I didn't realize I missed.

Then...

"Lola... do you think we'll still be like this next year?"

I froze.

The truth? I didn't know. My fingers hesitated above the keyboard.

"I don't know. But I want us to be."

"Me too. Even if we're both old and crusty."

"You'll still be a ghost with WiFi issues."

"And you'll still be my princess."

I clutched the phone like it was him.

4th to 10th January 2024

We didn't talk daily. But when we did, the world felt lighter.

Sometimes a meme. Sometimes blurry photos of his notes.

"Proof I'm studying. My handwriting died for this."

I sent a sleepy selfie.

"Proof I haven't showered in 2 days. Exams are evil."

We were gross. We were ourselves. That was the magic.

But deep down...

I knew I loved someone who could vanish any second.

Still, he always came back.

Didn't he?

11th January 2024

No message.

12th January 2024

Nothing. Im used to it.

13th January 2024

My fingers hovered over our chat.

"Are you okay?"

Backspace.

"I miss you."

Backspace.

I sighed, tossed the phone aside, and stared at the ceiling until my thoughts got loud.

14th January 2024

2:12 AM.

"Sorry. Studying is killing me. Also got grounded. My GPA better be grateful."

And like that. Pathetic, sleepy, relieved tears bursted from my eyes.

I replied:

"Tell your GPA if it keeps hurting you, I'll fight it with a slipper."

He sent a heart.

I stared at it longer than I should've. Sometimes, one emoji can say everything and nothing.

15th January 2024

Something felt off.

He was still there. But distant.

His replies came slower.

"How was your day?"

"Tiring."

"What're you doing?"

"Studying."

"Did you eat?"

No reply.

It felt like texting through fog.

16th January 2024

Still silence.

I curled up in bed and scrolled through our chat like it was a diary.

First confessions. Stupid inside jokes. That time I told him I wanted to bake cookies and he asked if he could eat the dough raw and die for love.

Where did that boy go?

I texted:

"I know you're tired. I know school's eating you alive. I'm not mad. I just miss you, that's all."

No reply.

I tossed my phone on the bed, still hoping for a sign from him. Instead, my cat jumped on it and decided it was the perfect toy to chase. The screen lit up with random taps and weird autocorrected messages that made no sense.

"Lola, h3lp me! I'm stuck in a math problem!" the phone seemed to say, but really it was just my cat walking over my keyboard.

I laughed, even though my heart was heavy. This little chaos was the only "conversation" I could have right now.

Maybe that's what love felt like sometimes—a mix of silence, weird noises, and a stubborn hope that things will work out.

I grabbed my notebook and started doodling a superhero potato with a WiFi cape.

Because if I had to wait for him, I might as well make it entertaining.