It's been five months since he first found Ethan unconscious and learned the truth about his illness. The months since had been a blur of hospital visits, specialist appointments, and bills that just kept coming.
While the school had helped as much as they could, it still wasn't enough. Ethan's kidneys hadn't completely failed, but the monthly dialysis sessions and multiple medications were burning through their savings fast.
This summer was also different from all the others. Instead of spending it on the court training for the upcoming season, Luke spent it working.
Every morning, he dragged himself out of bed before the sun rose, fueled by cheap instant coffee and his dwindling bank account. In the morning, he walked different dogs in areas near the campus. His legs ached constantly, but he still kept up he needed the money, and it was the only exercise he got anymore.
His afternoons and evenings were spent restocking shelves at the supermarket until his shoulders throbbed. The bright fluorescent lights made his head ache, but the few dollars were better than nothing.
After his shifts, he would head to his room, eat plain bread and carton milk for dinner, to do online tutoring and assignment writing. The tougher the questions, the higher the pay.
The university semester had long since started, but he hadn't fully resumed life was a circle that only included the hospital, his part-time jobs, and the few classes he managed to slip into his schedule. He hadn't touched a tennis ball since the day Ethan collapsed.
He was supposed to be a student, but he was barely attending his classes. Every hour meant money, and he couldn't afford to waste any. His phone was muted, placed inside his drawer. He ignored all the set reminders for practice and the concerned texts from lecturers who hadn't seen him in a while.
For a while, Ethan had been temporarily discharged. His friend used that time in school to officially suspend his studies before returning to the hospital. Though short, those few days were the only window of normalcy he had had for a long time.
*************************************************************************************************************
A student canceled tutoring for that night. Luke didn't know whether he should be grateful for the much-needed rest time or sad about the money lost. But there was nothing he could do about it.
His head had just touched the pillow when a knock sounded on the door.
"Luke, are you in?" Mark, another member of the tennis team, asked from the other side.
Luke forced his eyes open, stood up slowly, and opened the door. "Do you need anything?"
"Coach said you should drop by his office," Mark said. "I called, but you weren't picking up, so I came."
Luke felt his pockets for his phone, then remembered his phone was probably still in the drawer.
"Got it," he murmured, ready to close the door when—
"How— How is Ethan?"Mark asked suddenly.
"He's fine," Luke managed a smile. "He won't be leaving us anytime soon."
"That's good, that's good." Mark exhaled loudly, relieved. He turned to leave, then paused. He took a card from his pocket, "Here."
Luke frowned. "What's this?"
and stuffed it into Luke's hands.
"For Ethan," Mark said, pushing it into his hand. "From the team, password is your birthday."
He didn't wait for a response, jogging down the hallway.
Luke stared at the card for a moment, his chest tightening. He looked around the hallway, but Mark was nowhere to be found. He would just have to return it later.
If his teammates hadn't been finding different excuses to bring him food and snacks, the past few months would have been harder than they were. Thanks to them, it wasn't too bad.
*************************************************************************************************************
When Luke walked in, Coach Daniel wasn't sitting behind his desk. He was standing by the window, his arms crossed, looking out at the court where the singles players were training.
"Coach," Luke said, coming to a stop a few steps from him.
"Luke." Coach Daniel's voice was low and usually gentle. "I got calls from some of your professors," Coach Daniel stated without turning around. "They said you have been missing a lot of your classes."
Luke opened his mouth, "Coach, I—"
"I know you're a smart kid, but without at least 50% attendance, you won't even be able to sit for the exams." The coach's voice was calm but firm.
"That would automatically disqualify you for the scholarship. Also You missed every pre-season fixture. You never show up for practice. Even if you don't play doubles, you can still hold out on your own."
Luke opened his mouth to argue, "But Coach, the hospital bills, the time—"
Coach Daniel finally turned, his expression stern. "I know. And we're fighting for you, Luke. But the school has rules. They don't want an empty spot on the court for the upcoming NCAA season, and a scholarship that's funding a student who isn't actually studying."
He took a slow breath. "You need to back to classes. Even if you won't play tennis again, don't throw everything away."
*************************************************************************************************************
The next evening, Luke visited Ethan.
His friend looked better than he had a few days ago and color had returned to his face.
Currently he was focused on knitting. A while back, a nurse had taught him basic stitches and after months of failure, he was finally able to build something.
"What are you working on?" Luke asked, as he pulled up a chair.
Ethan looked up, his eyes bright. "A scarf for you? Do you like it?"
Luke examined the half-finished piece.The stitches were uneven. Some parts had holes, while others had long strings dangling around them. It looked more like a rag than a brand new scarf, but Luke nodded.
"It's nice. Rustic." He smiled softly.
"I thought so too," Ethan said, going back to work. "Cole said you wouldn't like it. Too bad he's not here to hear the truth."
Luke looked around for the other occupant of the room, finally noticing his absence. " Where's he?"
"Cardio."
They sat in silence for a few moments. Not having anything to do, Luke reached for an orange and started peeling it.
"How's school?" Ethan asked eventually.
"Fine," Luke answered, not looking up.
"But Coach said—"
"I'm not working anymore," Luke lied smoothly, stuffing a slice in Ethan's mouth. "I just came from a class. Everything is fine."
He kept his gaze fixed on the orange. He knew if he looked up, he would meet Ethan's searching eyes and everything would fall apart.
He couldn't let Ethan find out the truth. All Ethan should be worrying about is staying healthy. As for everything else, Luke would deal with it.
He fed him another slice and popped one into his own mouth. Its sweet taste was a wide contrast to the sinking feeling in his stomach.
He needed a better job, something steadier, something that paid more.