My Campus Doctor's Forbidden Cure - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

My phone buzzed with his text: "Did you take your meds?"
"Yep, all good. Thanks, Dr. Roscente," I replied.
The typing bubbles appeared and disappeared three times before his response finally popped up: "Just Ethan is fine."
Before I could overthink a reply, another message flooded in: "Heads up—this medication might make you nauseous or give you headaches. Totally normal, but if it gets bad, come see me. I can write you a note to skip the next few days of military hell."
My chest tightened with unexpected warmth.
For weeks, I'd been white-knuckling through this bizarre condition alone, swallowing the pain with every pill. Now here was Ethan—suddenly my personal lighthouse in this medical fog.
I thumbed out "Thanks," then immediately cringed at how flat it sounded. After frantic Googling, I tacked on two corgi memes and hit send before I could chicken out.
His reply came fast: "Thought I lost you to sleep. Rest up. And don't sweat skipping training—freshman year, I faked shin splints for three weeks straight."
I could practically hear his chuckle through the screen. My ears burned as I imagined that half-smile of his.
The dorm lights cut out. We exchanged quick goodnights, but just as I curled up, chaos erupted across the room.
Olivia's phone flashlight blasted on, spotlighting Sophia at the sink. "You had all damn day to brush your teeth," Olivia snapped. "Now you're clattering around like a one-woman marching band?"
In the harsh light, Sophia's face cycled through shock, then fury. "Newsflash—some of us actually shower at night. If you need absolute silence, maybe don't live in a dorm?"
Their voices escalated into a verbal grenade toss. The rest of us exchanged wide-eyed looks, frozen in our bunks.
When Sophia made a grab for Olivia's blanket, I blurted, "Midnight dorm inspection, remember?"
Sophia whipped toward me with a glare so venomous you'd think I'd keyed her car. But the room fell silent—for now.
In the dark, I traced the medicine box hidden under my pillow, shoved in earplugs, and finally drifted off.
Ethan and I settled into a lunchtime routine at the infirmary.
Gone was the fumbling from our first encounter—now he moved with quiet precision. After demonstrating on a medical dummy, he'd draw the privacy curtain and wait outside like a gentleman.
Then one afternoon, just as I lifted my shirt, knocking shattered the quiet.
Nobody came at this hour. Most freshmen were too busy napping off their training exhaustion to visit the infirmary.
I froze, fingers clenched around the device. The door creaked open.
"Doctor?" Sophia's saccharine voice pierced the room. "Is Emily Laurent here?"
My stomach dropped. Since the blowup, she'd barely spoken to me, while Olivia and I had become unlikely allies.
Was this a spite check-in?
Behind the curtain, my pulse roared in my ears. Ethan's response was glacial: "Emily isn't here."
"Ohhh." I heard her plop into a chair. "I just saw her heading this way... Anyway, Dr. Roscente, I've been having these awful palpitations? Maybe from all my student council work..."
Her sickly-sweet tone bore zero resemblance to her nightly COD raids with random gamers. It made my skin crawl.
After what felt like an eternity, Ethan's voice cut through: "You're perfectly healthy. Get some rest."
The dismissal was so sharp I almost felt bad for her. Almost.
Undeterred, Sophia pressed on: "Could I get your number? Just in case symptoms come back?"
My arms shook from holding the device. Just give her the damn contacts already, I willed him.
"No." The finality in his voice startled me. "The infirmary is always staffed."
Against all logic, warmth bloomed in my chest at his refusal.
The second the door clicked shut, I collapsed onto the bed. Ethan's footsteps approached. "Friend of yours?" he asked through the curtain, voice softening.
"Roommate," I muttered. "Not exactly BFF material."
A quiet "hmm" was his only reply. Then: "Take the service hall behind the cafeteria if you're worried about being seen. My staff ID will get you in."
A pause. I heard plastic click against wood. "I'll leave it on the desk. The head nurse won't miss her spare."
His off-the-clock humor kept catching me off guard—this dry wit completely at odds with his clinical demeanor.
Flustered, I thanked him and got back to business.
Back in the dorm, I tucked the ID under my pillow like contraband.
When military training finally ended, we shed our potato-sack uniforms with relief. Sophia vanished into student council campaigns, while the rest of us bonded over campus exploration.
My roommates became fixtures near the basketball courts—"optimal ogling territory," as Olivia put it. But the players' shirtless posturing and referee screaming matches just made me cringe. Give me someone steady. Someone like...
I cut the thought dead.
Olivia elbowed me, grinning. "What's with the face? Never seen a six-pack before?"
"More like never seen that much misplaced confidence," I muttered, making her snort.
The more time we spent together, the more I envied Olivia's brass-knuckles approach to life. If only I could borrow an ounce of that spine...
We returned to the dorm around nine to find a war zone—drawers ransacked, belongings strewn.
My stomach dropped. I vaulted onto my bed and yanked up the pillow. The medicine box had been torn open, instructions crumpled.
Ethan's ID was gone.
Olivia was at my side in seconds. "What's missing? Was it—"
"Looking for this?" Sophia's voice sliced through the room from the doorway.