Maybe this is what they call not acclimatizing to the environment. Someone who rarely even catches a cold suddenly turns into a delicate flower after moving to a new place. After a whole morning of running around and even eating his favorite food, there’s still no sign of getting better—he’s about to wilt.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

These past couple of days, it seemed like all the people from the cat family were out celebrating the New Year, and there were quite a lot of cars on the road. The driver was aggressive, alternating between slamming the gas and the brakes. Less than ten minutes after setting off, Brian Carter already felt his stomach churning.

Although the journey wasn’t far—just half an hour in total—by the time he saw the turnoff to Eric Bennett’s house, he couldn’t hold on any longer. He couldn’t even manage to speak, just slapped the car door a few times.

“Here?” the driver asked.

He nodded and slapped the door twice more.

The driver stopped the car. He jumped out as if he’d been shot out by a fart, rushed to a trash can by the roadside, and started vomiting.

Even he couldn’t bear to look at such a miserable scene.

After a round of upheaval, things finally quieted down, leaving only a splitting headache. He braced himself against the wall, trying to fish a tissue out of his pocket, but couldn’t find one after a long search.

Just as he was starting to get really frustrated, a small arm reached out from the side, holding a few tissues.

He grabbed the tissues, wiped his mouth, and only then glanced to the side.

This world really never lacks for coincidences.

Ashley Bennett was standing right next to him, wearing her green hat, and three steps behind her was Eric Bennett, watching with a look of amusement.

“Thanks.” Brian Carter nodded to Ashley Bennett. It was a pretty awkward situation—embarrassed, unable to just turn and leave, and not even able to say something like “What are you looking at?”

Ashley Bennett reached out, grabbed his hand, and gave it a tug, maybe trying to help him walk.

“No need.” Brian Carter pulled his hand back.

Ashley Bennett grabbed his hand again, still wanting to help.

“Really, I’m fine.” Brian Carter said.

When he tried to pull his hand away again, Ashley Bennett still wouldn’t let go.

“Ermiao…” Eric Bennett walked over.

Ashley Bennett still didn’t let go.

Brian Carter didn’t know how to communicate with her. All his irritation boiled over and he forcefully shook off Ashley Bennett’s hand: “I said I don’t need help!”

Ashley Bennett didn’t move, her hand still raised in the air, stunned.

Before Brian Carter’s guilt could even start to spread, he suddenly felt a tight grip around his neck—Eric Bennett had grabbed him by the collar from behind and yanked him off balance.

“Shit…” He turned his head, elbow swinging back at the same time.

Eric Bennett caught his elbow, and the hand gripping his collar tightened even more, forcing him to lean in close to Eric Bennett.

The pressure on his neck made him feel like throwing up again.

“She really likes you,” Eric Bennett whispered in his ear, “but sometimes she can’t really read other people’s emotions. Please, just bear with her.”

Brian Carter wanted to say, I’ve lived seventeen years and never seen anyone ask for a favor like this, but he couldn’t get that many words out. He could only squeeze out three words through gritted teeth: “Gonna puke.”

Eric Bennett let go.

He braced himself against the wall and dry-heaved a couple of times, but nothing came out.

Eric Bennett handed him a bottle of water. He took it, unscrewed the cap, and gulped down a couple of mouthfuls. After catching his breath, he looked at Ashley Bennett: “I’m fine, no need to help.”

Ashley Bennett nodded and stepped back to stand beside Eric Bennett.

“I’m heading back.” He tossed the half-empty bottle into the trash can and turned to walk toward the intersection ahead.

Damn!

Back at David Thompson’s place, as soon as he opened the door, Brian Carter was greeted by the smell of food.

David Thompson was standing in the living room, phone in hand, dialing.

Just as Brian Carter was about to speak, his phone rang in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at the screen—the caller was David Thompson. “You…”

David Thompson heard his ringtone and turned around, shouting, “Hey! When did you get back? I was just about to call you!”

“Just walked in,” Brian Carter closed the door. “Didn’t you… hear me?”

“My hearing’s not great,” David Thompson pointed at his ear, “I have to tilt my head toward the sound to hear clearly.”

“Oh.” Brian Carter replied.

“Where’d you go?” David Thompson went into the kitchen and brought out a pot of soup. “I’ve been waiting for you to eat for ages.”

“I…” Brian Carter hesitated, not mentioning the all-you-can-eat barbecue. “I went to the hospital.”

“You went to the hospital?” David Thompson immediately started fussing, reaching out to touch his face. “Are you sick? Where does it hurt? Do you have a fever? Is it because you’re not used to the environment?”

“I took some medicine, it’s nothing.” For the sake of this lunch, Brian Carter endured the strong smell of smoke on David Thompson’s yellowed hands and didn’t slap them away.

“Listen, if you’re not feeling well, you don’t have to go to the hospital. There’s a community clinic on the street next door, they’re pretty good,” David Thompson said. “It’s just the storefront is a bit recessed, not easy to spot, right next to the little supermarket.”

“Oh,” Brian Carter thought for a moment, “the little supermarket? Is that Eric Bennett…”

“How do you know Eric Bennett?” David Thompson turned around, looking at him in surprise. “You just got here and you’re already hanging out with him?”

“No,” Brian Carter couldn’t be bothered to explain, “I went to the little supermarket this morning to buy something.”