He’d once chased her with all he had, dramatically and loudly—but she’d turned him down without blinking.
After Claire graduated, Evan’s private life went off the rails.
One day he’d be with one girl, the next day wrapped around someone else.
But without fail, they all looked a little like Claire.
In Evan’s sophomore year, a girl started trailing him everywhere—Maya Ellis.
Everyone noticed her, not just because she resembled Claire, but because she was the one who stayed by Evan’s side the longest.
When people talked about her, the verdict was unanimous: How can someone be such a simp?
That girl they called a simp was me.
(1)
“Maya, I want a Coke.”
“Okay.”
I nodded.
As I was getting up, he said again, “She wants one too.”
I looked over and saw him pointing at the girl he had been holding in his arms.
“Got it.”
I turned and hadn’t taken two steps before a chorus of snickers and chatter rose behind me.
“No way—she’s that obedient?”
“Evan, what did you give her? Some kind of love potion?”
“Dude, Evan, you’re my hero.”
I paused, then steadily walked away from those voices.
A little while later I went back to the basketball court.
Evan had just stopped. I handed him two sodas. He didn’t say anything—took them, turned, and gave one to the girl he’d been carrying.
All the boys around watched me with pitying looks.
I was used to those glances. I sat back down and kept watching them play.
The sun slanted lower, and when they were getting ready to leave, I packed my things and followed at a distance.
“Maya.”
Evan called me.
I already knew what he wanted. I dug a lollipop out of my bag and gave it to him.
At the fork in the road we split up.
I hadn’t gone far when I looked back.
Evan unwrapped the candy, touched it to the girl’s lips, then leaned down and kissed her. The boys around them hooted and teased.
I saw Evan glance my way—his mouth curved up—and then he deepened the kiss.
After the kiss, he wrapped an arm around her and they walked on.
I watched them turn the corner and disappear, then headed back to the dorm.
(2)
“Hello?”
I was reading when my phone buzzed. The screen said Evan Carter, so I answered.
“Maya, Li Xue and I booked a room but we forgot it. Can you go buy one for me?”
I blinked and checked the time. It was already 9:40 p.m. “Now?”
“If it’s inconvenient, forget it.”
He made as if to hang up.
“Where are you?”
I asked.
“Riverside Inn, Room 5025.”
“Got it.”
I put on my shoes to go when my childhood friend and roommate Lily Grant stopped me. “Mouse.”
“What’s up?”
She opened her mouth, closed it, opened again, sighed, and finally said, “I’ll go with you.”
She threw on a jacket and came with me.
There’s a convenience store downstairs from the Riverside Inn. I bought a pack of what he wanted, then Lily and I went up to the fifth floor. We knocked on 5025.
Evan opened the door after a moment, looking impatient. He’d already taken off his jacket. He took the pack from my hand and shut the door without saying a word.
“You bastard!” Lily pretended to bang on the door and promised to teach him a lesson.
I grabbed her wrist. “Let’s go.”
She stopped and came away with me.
We waited outside by the curb. I sat on a stone block while Lily stood in front of me, worried. “Mouse, you know—”
“Lils, forget it.”
I cut her off. She stopped and sighed, then patted my head.
(3)
Evan’s friend Mark Davis started dating my roommate Zoe Lin, and one weekend they invited a crew out to a karaoke bar. Zoe asked if I’d go with her since she’d be the only girl in the group, and I said yes.
When Mark pulled up to pick up Zoe, he seemed surprised to see me, then gave a friendly smile.
I rode in the front seat and let the couple sit in back.
At the KTV a crowd had already gathered by the entrance. Evan stood out—tall, handsome—the kind of person you noticed first in a group.
People laughed and pointed when they saw me walk in. I caught snippets: “She even came along for this? That’s so thirsty.”
Zoe tugged my hand, full of regret. I patted her to say it was fine.
We went into a private room. Zoe sat next to Mark. I took a seat at the edge. Someone offered me a drink; I declined.
The mood was light, everyone joking and singing. Occasionally someone attempted a high note and the group burst into laughter.
I watched Evan in the center. His hair fell low over his eyes; he’d been drinking and looked tipsy, a little lost. There was a small mole on the right side of his nose. The dim blue light made him look like someone else I knew.
He was looking more and more like that person…
(4)
Afterward everyone drifted off in different directions.
Evan was clearly drunk, stumbling and swaying, leaning on the guys trying to help him. I followed them and saw Evan bump into a wall for the third time, a red mark rising on his forehead. I hurried over and said to the guy supporting him, “I’ll take him.”
“Uh—sure.”
The guy handed Evan over to me. The others all looked like they understood and left the rest to us.
Carefully, another guy and I supported Evan as we got outside. The friends were haggling with a taxi driver; it wasn’t going well. The other guy went to help with the driver, leaving me holding Evan’s weight.
He put most of his weight on me, and I barely held my ground.
I looked up at him. His medium-length hair hid his sharp brows and features, making him look soft in that moment. The bruise on his forehead stood out—probably from when he hit the wall.
I stared for a moment, then reached up and stroked the swollen spot and the little mole beside his nose.
A cold breeze snapped me awake. I looked at Evan and forced a bitter smile.
They finally got three taxis. Evan and his friends went to a hotel. Zoe, Mark, and I went back to campus.
I handed Evan to his friends and climbed into a car.
I opened the window and rested my hand on the sill, watching the city blur past. Behind me, Mark and Zoe laughed and teased each other.
The cold wind touched me, but it couldn’t clear my head.
Daniel Stone—I miss you so much…
(5)
I lived the “simp” life everyone mocked. Before I knew it, I was already a junior. As Evan’s reputation grew, so did mine.
Time slipped by.
May Day came, and Lily and I packed up to go home to Hillside. Dad picked us up at the station and my parents took us back. Our house is only three meters from Lily’s—neighbors since childhood.
Dad declined my friend’s parents’ offer to go out to dinner, saying we’d eat at home. Opening the front door, I was hit by that familiar “home” smell.
That afternoon Dad went fishing with a friend while I watered plants on the balcony with Mom. She loves gardening and had a balcony full of different flowers.
We chatted while I watered; she suddenly brought up my wasted high school years and mentioned Mr. Stone.
“Come to think of it, thank goodness for Mr. Stone. I wonder where he is now…”
She sighed.
I froze in place, watering in a daze, thoughts flying across the Atlantic.
“My plants!” Mom snapped, snatching the watering can from my hand. I’d overwatered some new flowers and their leaves had drooped.
“Go, go, go,” she scolded, sending me off the balcony.
I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time…
(6)
When the holiday ended, I went back to school.
Evan, unusually, came up to me and asked if I wanted to see a movie. I hesitated, then agreed.
On Saturday I realized I wasn’t the only one he’d invited.
He had his arm around a girl I didn’t know and handed me a ticket. They were sitting together in the row in front of mine, at the far end; I sat behind them.
When the lights went down the movie started. I heard the couple in front of me whispering and kissing—the little “tsk tsk” sounds—and because Evan was diagonally in front of me, I even saw his hand slip under the girl’s jacket.
I sighed and looked up at the screen.
The film was a romance anthology—some stories touching, some so-so. I watched a story about an older woman and a younger man end, then a new one began.
It was about a teacher-student romance: the girl liked the man, he liked her back, but because of the teacher-student taboo their relationship was tangled and fraught.
The ending jumped six years forward. In an empty classroom, a bespectacled man graded papers at the lectern.
“Teacher.”
The camera cut to the door and a well-dressed woman came in, standing beside him.
“What is it?”
He asked with a soft smile.
“I like you.”
She wrapped him in an embrace.
“I like you too.”
He hugged her back.
The scene ended and rolled on to the next story.
But I couldn’t shake the image.
I thought of one person: medium-length hair, thin glasses, white shirt, blue pants. When you got close, you could smell a faint scent of herbal medicine.
(7)
On the walk back, I trailed behind the two of them, my mind foggy.
“Ow.”
I glanced up. Evan had fallen and the girl moved to help him up.
I watched them like I was on autopilot until Evan looked up and I saw a cut on his brow, blood streaming down. I finally snapped out of it.
I went over and, with the girl’s help, lifted him. My heart started pounding for no reason.
“Let’s go back—just a small cut.”
“No.”
For the first time, I contradicted him. I looked up at Evan and he looked back at me.
After a moment he averted his eyes and said, “Mm.”
We went to a nearby clinic. I hadn’t expected such a small wound to need stitches.
When I saw Evan again, I realized my panic hadn’t been baseless.
There was a three-centimeter scar above his eyebrow that made him look harsher—like an edge had been filed into him.
He was very different from the person in my memory… “He’s not really Daniel Stone.”
Those words looped in my head.
“Aren’t you leaving?”
Evan looked at me impatiently.
“Huh?
Yeah.”
For the first time, I turned and walked away without any lingering.
I walked a few steps, then started running.
I ran for so long my legs finally gave out and I had to stop.
I found myself on a bridge with people passing every way. The summer breeze was cool and pleasant. I leaned on the railing and realized something.
No one will ever be exactly like Daniel Stone.
I buried my face in my arms and couldn’t even tell how I felt.
After a while my phone rang. I opened it—Lily calling. I answered, “Hello.”
“Hello?
Oh my god, Mouse, you scared me to death. I was walking on the field and saw Evan come back. I waited and waited for you to come back—thought you’d been kidnapped.”
“I’ll head back soon.”
“Where the hell are you now?”
“Uh… at Maple Bridge. Why?”
I checked the map and read the bridge name.
“Wait for me. I’m not far. I swear I’m afraid something happened to you—I came out in flip-flops to find you.”
“Okay.”
Her words made me smile. I turned and saw someone on the other side of the bridge.
For a second I couldn’t tell if it was real or a mirage.
He was in a white shirt and blue pants—no difference from the person in my memory.
He walked toward the end of the bridge; I ran toward that end too.
I don’t know where the strength came from—my legs had been numb moments ago but now I chased him as fast as I could.
At the bridgehead a group of middle-aged women in pink shirts appeared, each with a fan in hand. He slipped into the crowd and my heart raced. I blurted, “Dan—”
The syllable barely left my lips when he seemed to sense it and turned to look at me.
He wore his thin wire-frame glasses, his brows gentle, a high nose with a small beauty mark at the side—and he gave me a faint smile.
That familiar smile nearly made me cry.
“Mouse!”
Lily’s voice came from behind. I turned: she was trudging over in her flip-flops.
“Lils!
I—”
I waved at her and pointed to where Daniel had been, but he was gone.
“What’s wrong?”
“I—I just saw Daniel Stone.”
I wanted to follow him, but Lily grabbed my arm.
“Let’s go back first.”
“I, I really—”
I stopped mid-sentence.
Suddenly I wondered: was it just my imagination?
When I was sixteen I was in tenth grade.
Because my foundations were weak and I loved reading Mary-Sue romance novels, my grades tanked. I was always near the bottom of the class.
My dad thought that couldn’t continue. The family had made a bit of money from business, so he hired a tutor for me.
Could I agree? Of course not.
School life was exhausting enough—having a tutor would steal my free time.
So I ran, hid, and even climbed out windows.
One sunny afternoon my dad dragged me home by the ear, and I still had an unopened copy of The Domineering Prince and the Ice Princess tucked under my arm.
That day I met Daniel Stone for the first time.
He sat on the sofa in a floral shirt and black pants, holding the tea my mom had brewed. He smiled gently at me.
But I was in my rebellious phase, steeped in Mary-Sue fantasies—my type was the domineering, handsome guy who pins you to the wall and says, “Woman, you can’t escape me.” I looked down my nose at the Daniel Stone type.
“Pfft.”
I forgot my ear was still in my dad’s hand. As soon as I scoffed, his grip tightened and I nearly begged for mercy.
“Ow ow ow! Dad, daddy, ease up—”
“Sorry to make you a laughingstock, Mr. Stone.”
My dad let go and went to talk to him.
Daniel stood up, bowed slightly, and shook my father’s hand.
“Come here!”
My dad glared at me fiercely, then turned to smile at Daniel. I learned then how fast my dad could change faces.
Reluctantly I went forward. “Please take care of her, Mr. Stone.”
“Please take care of her as well,” Daniel replied with a smile.
Sunlight fell through the window on his face; he and the light were both unbearably gentle.
Daniel was my dad’s recommendation. He tutored me every Saturday and Sunday from ten to three. During that time I tried one last gentle conversation with my mom.
“Daniel just graduated college—he’s young and very knowledgeable. What else do you want to say?”
“Mom, I’m not studying for myself. I’m doing it for you guys.”
“Oh?”
She glanced at me and said, “Tell me more.”
“I’m doing it for the family. Mr. Stone’s tutoring fee must be expensive—if I don’t take lessons, the family saves a lot, right?”
“Lily,” she said, “I need to discuss this with my eighteen-year-old boyfriend.”
“Huh? Where did you find an eighteen-year-old boyfriend? Would dad agree?”
I was bewildered.
“I don’t have one, so it’s not up for discussion.”
She stood, left the room, and floated back a final line: “Keep it up and I’ll cut your allowance.”
She left me standing in a daze.
And so my tutoring days began.
On his first day Daniel asked a few basic questions. I started off confident, but the more questions he asked the more shaky I became.
If it had been Lily she’d be poking my forehead and calling me dumb.
But Daniel said nothing. He quickly wrote notes, slid them over, and told me exactly how to do the problems when I frowned.
I suspected he read minds.
Not that I minded.
With his help my grades improved a lot. My parents were thrilled—so enthusiastic it was like they were hosting a visiting official.
“Mouse, pour Mr. Stone a cup of water.”
“Mouse, bring Mr. Stone an apple.”
“Mouse, the bread I bought—give some to Mr. Stone.”
I watched the bread I didn’t get to eat and wondered: who am I? Where am I?
Daniel must be their son.
I carried the bread into the room.
Young crushes can be a single, fleeting moment.
Like when Daniel looked up at the sound in the doorway, smiled gently, and said, “Home?”
“Huh?
Oh… yeah.”
I lowered my head, flustered, feeling my heart race.
“Why?!”
I slammed my head on the desk in impotent fury.
“You asking me?”
Lily glared at me over her popsicle.
“Sigh…”
I sighed. “I just can’t figure it out. I see him every day—I should be used to him. So why do I suddenly feel my heart skip at random moments?”
“Who knows. Maybe youth.”
Lily asked, “What are you going to do about it? Tell Mom you have a crush and get him fired?”
“No way. If I admitted it I think Mom would throw me out for desecrating Daniel Stone.”
“Pfft. That’s only twenty percent of the reason. The other eighty is you’re too attached.”
“Maybe… I sort of am.”
“Are you going to confess?”
I sat up and looked at Lily. “Daniel gives me this vibe… like he’s smiling at you but feels far away at the same time. I can’t explain it.”
“Cold?” she suggested.
“A little.”
“Don’t fall too deep.”
She patted my head.
“Okay.”
In the second semester of tenth grade I accidentally learned Daniel’s birthday.
Right. I, foolishly romantic, decided to give him a birthday gift.
I thought about it for ages, observed him, and couldn’t tell what he liked. He seemed to like everything and nothing all at once.
So I decided asking him directly would be the most reliable plan.
“Mr. Stone.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Do you have anything you like?”
He looked a little surprised and pushed his glasses up. “Why are you asking this all of a sudden?”
“Just… just suddenly, yes.”
I stammered and wanted to punch myself for being so awkward.
He looked out the window and was quiet for a moment. I thought my question was too abrupt and was about to drop it when he said, “Fireflies.”
“Huh?”
“I like fireflies.”
He smiled faintly, and I saw a trace of nostalgia in his eyes.
Perfect!
Except… easy to say, hard to do.
I’d lived in Hillside for so long and had never seen a single firefly.
What to do? Then a classmate told me he’d seen them behind the school hill.
I was grateful beyond words.
It wasn’t much—just a small slope, ten minutes to the top. Lily and I kept watch for three days. On the fourth day we finally saw them.
The day after that was Daniel’s birthday. The next day he was coming to tutor me, and my silly brain finally remembered the plan.
“Mr. Stone, are you free tomorrow night?”
“Yes? Why?”
He answered quickly.
“I want to take you somewhere.”
“All right.”
He paused, then nodded.
It struck me as odd—wouldn’t someone usually have company on their birthday? Maybe his parents weren’t in Hillside.
That night I caught a bad cold. I stared at the rain and wanted to curse the world.
“We still going?” Daniel asked quietly.
“Yes.”
I packed up and told my mom. Worried, she held Daniel’s hand and fussed over me for a while.
Daniel and I shared an umbrella and left for the hill behind the school. He didn’t ask me where we were going the whole way.
Luckily by the time we reached the back hill, the rain had almost stopped.
But the fireflies were nowhere to be seen.
“Mr. Stone, can you wait with me a little longer?”
I sniffled.
“Sure.”
After a while, my head started to get foggy from the cold—I felt sleepy.
I was worrying about how to apologize to Mr. Stone when a single firefly drifted slowly past my face.
Instantly I perked up.
“Mr. Stone!
Mr. Stone!
A firefly—achoo.”
I pointed excitedly at that lone light.
“I see it.”
He smiled and looked at me, then stepped beside me to watch the firefly.
I looked too. One light became two, then more, like stars in the night.
I turned toward him. He watched the lights with a look of nostalgia and fondness, a little smile at the corner of his mouth. He was so gentle—I felt, for the first time, really close to him.
My heart fluttered.
On the way back, high on the beauty I’d seen, I slipped and took a hard fall.
I skinned my knee and started bleeding. Ridiculous—one look at a pretty thing and I cause myself all this trouble.
Seeing me limp and thinking I might hurt myself again, Mr. Stone picked me up and carried me on his back.
Suddenly it felt worth it.
Damn this infuriating beauty.
I lay on his back and smelled a faint scent of herbal medicine—comforting. Sleep washed over me.
“Happy birthday, Mr. Stone.”
I said it, then surrendered to sleep.
I remember he might have answered me. Or maybe he didn’t.
(15) Near the end of the second month of the fall semester of senior year.
Mr. Stone tutored me and gave me a notebook filled with detailed notes.
“May, keep it up.”
“Okay.”
I hugged that notebook like it was treasure.
When he saw me out, he suddenly reached up and patted my head.
I froze, then bubbled over with happiness.
He opened the door, turned, and said gently, “May, goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Stone.”
Watching him walk away, I had a bad feeling I couldn’t name.
I pushed the unease down and told myself I’d see him next week.
But I never saw him again.
(16) I stopped staring at Evan Carter.
Maybe because I’d been playing simp to him for so long.
When I went to the cafeteria people asked why I wasn’t trailing Evan anymore.
Usually I ignored them. Lily, tired of listening, would snap, “Mind your own business.”
Some laughed and said I’d go right back to simping in a few days.
A week passed, then two weeks, then a month.
People shifted from laughing to actually wondering what Evan had done.
Zoe would discreetly ask me if I wanted to join Evan’s friend group when they hung out.
I’d smile and shake my head.
When I was simping for Evan, if I didn’t go look for him, I barely saw him anywhere except the playground.
But when I stopped, suddenly he was everywhere.
He’d be with different girls. Sometimes our eyes would meet; I’d nod with a smile, and he’d turn his head away.
I stopped greeting him. I ignored him.
And then, instead of me seeking him out, he started seeking me.
(17) Lily and I went downstairs and found Evan by the dorm lawn.
He was squatting at the edge of the grass, expressionless, the scar on his brow making him look fierce.
I assumed he was waiting for some girl and we walked past.
Then he said, “May…”
“Did you call me?”
I looked at Lily in confusion. She nodded, so I turned to him.
“What’s up?”
“You…”
He hesitated, then, “Never mind.”
“Oh.”
We left.
The next day—
When Lily and I headed to the cafeteria, he was there again.
“May…”
He said softly.
“Do you need something?”
I asked, puzzled.
“Nothing…”
Third day, fourth day, fifth day… I started to get a little afraid. Every time I passed Evan, he’d call me in a slightly dark tone with a hoarse voice.
When I asked if something was wrong, he always said nothing.
“Why didn’t I know he was…sick like this?” I asked Lily in the dorm.
Lily’s eyes were complicated. “Now you know, right?”
“I thought you were joking when you called him weird before.”
“Turns out I wasn’t.”
“Hmm.”
I nodded.
(18) I stayed in the dorm for a few days, Lily brought me meals the whole time.
That wasn’t a real solution.
Lily said she hadn’t seen Evan for two days, so I decided to go downstairs with her.
Right outside the door—Evan was there again.
Honestly, I was startled.
I took a deep breath and walked up to him. “Evan, are you really okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He stood up, glanced at me, and said, “I just have a question.”
“Ask.”
I thought, Why didn’t you say that sooner?
“I…”
He hesitated. “Does my scar make me ugly?”
“No.”
I answered honestly.
“Then, then why…”
He scratched his head. “Why did you stop chasing me?”
Now I was the one flustered. It took me a while to find my voice. “Huh?”
“I asked why you stopped chasing me.”
He sounded a little angry but repeated it.
“You—you said you didn’t like me.”
“I do not like you, but—but—so—”
He stammered then flared up in embarrassment, “Forget it!”
I stood there completely baffled.
(19) I had a bad feeling.
That week I ran into Evan in the cafeteria for the sixth time.
He insisted a girl he’d planned to meet didn’t like to eat and shoved a bottle of milk into my hand, ignoring me, then turned and left.
I looked at Lily. She looked exasperated.
A thought popped into my head.
“Lils, could he…like me?”
“Maybe…”
“Why?”
I racked my brain and came up empty.
“Maybe…he’s just pathetic,” Lily finally concluded.
(20) Evan somehow got word of my routine.
From then on, whenever I left the dorm, I could find him somewhere handing me things—candies, cookies, drinks.
I told him I didn’t need them, but he didn’t stop.
I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away—maybe because Evan’s features reminded me a little of Mr. Stone.
I took the treats back and shared them with my roommates.
A semester passed like that.
Evan and I were still campus fixtures at Waverly University—just in different roles.
When I asked Lily for advice again, she sighed. “Mouse, if nothing else works, why don’t you try dating Evan?”
(21) In the spring semester of our junior year, the neighboring university celebrated its centennial with lots of events and opened its gates.
Lily and I decided to go check it out.
Inside there were booths everywhere.
They even shoved flyers with QR codes into our hands.
We exchanged a helpless smile.
There was a homemade haunted house that actually was pretty creepy.
After being scared, Lily and I wandered with bottled water. The deeper into the campus we went, the quieter it got.
Different school, same school vibes—still feels novel.
I fiddled with a toy in my hand when Lily suddenly stopped.
She stared ahead, surprised.
Curious, I followed her gaze.
A magnolia tree spread its branches, white blooms swaying in the breeze, sweet scent in the air. Under the tree stood a man.
Black hair, a straight nose, thin-frame glasses. He looked up at the flowers.
He must have noticed our looks, because he turned toward us with mild surprise.
I knew the face and my eyes filled. It took me a long moment before I could choke out the word.
“Mr. Stone…”
(22)
I’d imagined meeting Mr. Stone in a hundred ways.
Maybe alone, maybe with a girlfriend, maybe with his child. I’d rehearsed looking composed, acting like a delighted old friend: “Long time no see, Mr. Stone. How have you been?”
I’d planned out a thousand reactions, but when it actually happened, all the rehearsed dignity fell apart.
None of the poised smiles mattered.
He walked toward me and stopped about a meter away, using that familiar gentle voice to call, “May.”
I brought my hand up to my mouth. I’d meant to smile, but tears welled instead.
My first thought: my outfit sucks today.
He wore a white shirt and blue pants—exactly as I remembered. He stood so near I could reach out and touch him.
He smiled quietly, as if nothing had ever happened.
(23) “Mouse.
Mouse!”
Lily shook my shoulder hard and I snapped back. I’d been mindlessly patting cushion foundation on my face; now I looked a mess.
I set the cushion down and met Lily’s eyes. She took two tissues from the box and handed them to me.
My face was streaked with tears. I mopped at it clumsily.
The dorm was empty; the room was silent except for my sniffing.
I stopped crying. Lily gently wrapped an arm around me and patted my back. “Go take off your makeup and get in bed.”
“Okay.”
I nodded, went to remove my makeup, then lay on my bed staring at the ceiling until sleep came.
The Moment I Stopped Loving Him
When I first saw Mr. Stone, my body acted faster than my brain. Before I’d decided what to do, I grabbed Lily’s hand and ran.
Yes—I ran.
Halfway down the hall I had a sudden impulse to turn back and look once more.
Mr. Stone’s mouth opened and closed like he was saying something.
At the time I didn’t understand. Now, thinking back, it sounded like he was saying, “I’m sorry.”
If you ask me why I remember even that—
I can’t answer.
Maybe because his lips were pink and looked kissable?
(24) Lust wins out.
I admit I’m embarrassingly useless.
That weekend I sneaked back to see Mr. Stone again.
Of course, I didn’t find him.
After asking around I learned that Mr. Stone wasn’t on campus much except when he had class.
I was annoyed.
I’d barely left the gate when I saw him across the street.
I froze, then hurriedly dug a compact mirror out of my bag.
Makeup OK. Fixed my hair.
When I looked back, he was already walking toward me.
He had three or four books in his arms. The wind lifted his shirt hem; he looked like he’d been running, breathing hard—he was trying to hide it, but I could tell.
“Mr. Stone…”
I forced a smile, tried to play it cool.
“Zoe, what are you doing here?”
“Me? I—I was just passing by.”
I awkwardly tucked the wisps of hair at my temples behind my ears.
He smiled like he could tell I was lying.
I was so embarrassed I could dig a mansion out of the pavement with my toes.
“Um, I’ll go then.”
I covered my face and ran.
Once I’d crossed the street I scolded myself—what am I so guilty about? I haven’t done anything wrong.
Lost in my own chiding, I didn’t watch where I was going and bumped into someone.
“Sorry, sorry.”
“What the hell…Zoe?”
The voice used my name. It sounded familiar; when I looked up it was Evan Carter.
“You—what are you doing here?”
He scratched his head.
“Just passing by.”
Please don’t ask anything else, I hoped.
He didn’t press.
“Your hair’s a mess.”
“Huh?”
I turned and saw Mr. Stone still standing by the school gate watching us. I reached for my mirror, but Evan reached out and fixed my hair for me.
I blinked, stepped back fast. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
His hand hovered awkwardly for a second. “Let me buy you bubble tea.”
“No thank you.”
I didn’t know how to face him. Feeling a little guilty, I said, “I’ll go.”
I didn’t see Evan and Mr. Stone exchange a look behind me.
(25) Lily couldn’t understand my behavior at all—she showed it by rolling her eyes so hard at me it should have hurt.
I served tea and water, not daring to speak.
She took a sip, set the cup down, sat quiet for a bit, then suddenly slammed her hand on the table and yelled, “Zoe!”
Startled, I jumped.
“Lils…”
I tried to cozy up to her, tugging at her sleeve.
“Let go.”
She shrugged off my hand and sighed at me repeatedly.
Finally she said, “No one can tell you what to do, but you have to be clear with yourself. If you choose something, don’t regret it.”
“Mm.”
“My husband says common sense is common sense. Heh heh heh.”
Fine. She’d convinced herself.
(26) I checked things out.
Mr. Stone didn’t have a girlfriend.
But just in case, I made a cautious plan.
Of course I fell asleep after writing only three words in my memo.
Wandering around campus with Lily, we heard someone say the school had a new teacher who was pretty decent-looking.
“I wish it’s Mr. Stone.”
Lily looked at me like I was ridiculous. “I think he put a spell on you.”
She wanted to go to the library, and I went with her.
I didn’t expect to see Mr. Stone at the library entrance.
“Lils, did we walk into the wrong school?”
“No.”
She hesitated. “Zoe, are you sure Mr. Stone isn’t a witch?”
“Maybe not…right?”
I looked at Mr. Stone, unsure, and called, “Mr. Stone?”
We were maybe ten meters apart. My voice was low, so when he turned to look at me I grabbed Lily and whispered, “Oh no, Lils, you might be right.”
“Zoe.”
He smiled gently when he said my name. His voice drifted on the wind and made me feel lightheaded.
“Did you hear that?” I mouthed to Lily.
“I’m not deaf…”
Lily pulled me over.
I was glad I hadn’t dressed like a disaster today.
“Mr. Stone.”
Lily greeted him.
“Hello.”
He nodded.
I took a breath, swallowed my excitement, and asked, “What are you doing here, Mr. Stone?”
“I’ll be teaching here later.”
“Really?!” Lily pinched my arm and I yelped—too loud.
He nodded. “Reading?”
“Yes.”
“Wanna join me?”
“Sure.”
(27) We sat and read together.
Lily stuck to her policy of ignoring my emotional turmoil.
I picked up a book to pretend to read, and every couple of minutes I’d sneak a glance at Mr. Stone.
Then…Lily told me to wipe the drool from my mouth with a tissue.
“You fell asleep and your head flopped and leaned on Mr. Stone’s shoulder. Later someone said he had class and so he put your head back down and left.”
“Lils…why didn’t you wake me up?”
I almost cried.
“Did you think I didn’t try?” she said. “I yanked your head off his shoulder—then you leaned back in like an idiot. What was I supposed to do? He said it was fine, so I left it.”
I was mortified.
Lily patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll definitely not tell him you dribbled all over his shoulder.”
(28) The campus gossip lately was that Evan had cut his hair—not just trimmed, he shaved it into a buzz cut.
I learned about it on a bright afternoon when Lily and I walked past the library for the third time with purpose.
We weren’t looking for Mr. Stone anymore when a group of students walked toward us from a distance. They were backlit, so I couldn’t make out faces.
I pulled Lily aside to avoid them, but someone called, “Zoe.”
I turned and surprised myself. “Evan?”
Before, his long hair had softened his hollow brow and made him seem gentle. Now he looked roguish—there was even an “x” shaved above his left ear. It made him look dangerous, oddly attractive. A bunch of girls clustered around him, most of them giving me annoyed looks.
Feeling awkward, I said, “Evan, you cut your hair?”
His face stiffened. “I cut it a week ago.”
“Oh, is that so?”
No clue how to continue, so I scratched my head. “I’ll go then.”
“Zoe—”
He stopped me, stepped in front of me and motioned for me to reach out. He handed me a pack of White Rabbit candies.
I blinked. He had barely lifted his hand when I reached to give it back.
He froze.
“I don’t like stuff that sweet—thanks, but no. I gotta go.”
I thanked him and left with Lily. Evan watched us for a long time.
“Evan, I love White Rabbits,” a girl said, clinging to his arm, wearing a low-cut top on purpose.
Evan forced a smirk, shrugged his arm free, walked past a trash can, and tossed the candy inside.
(29) The next time I saw Mr. Stone was on a rainy night.
Summer weather changes fast.
I’d gone out for something quick. It was getting dark but the cicadas were loud; I thought it would just be a short trip. Halfway back it started to pour—hard.
I ran under an awning to wait it out, but the rain showed no sign of stopping and there wasn’t a store nearby. Bracing myself to dash back, someone grabbed my wrist. I pulled away so forcefully I spun and fell into his arms.
As I tried to step back, I smelled a faint medicinal scent.
So I stayed put in his embrace, strangely comforted, almost reaching to wrap my arms around his waist.
“Cough cough, Zoe.”
When he cleared his throat I moved back.
“Mr. Stone—what are you doing here?”
I pretended surprise.
He smiled and patted my head.
My heart nearly stopped.
No, it’s just a head pat—why are you acting like that? I chastised myself and tapped my head to sober up.
“Why are you here?” I recovered and looked at him with a smile.
“Passing by.”
He pushed his glasses up, casual as ever.
“Well, that’s a coincidence.”
I felt glad I’d come out tonight. It reminded me of high school—sudden rain, the same kind of moment.
“I’ll walk you back,” he said.
“Okay.”
I slipped under his umbrella and we walked back to campus together.
The rain hammered the fabric, loud and steady, but I only heard my heartbeat. I kept stealing glances at him.
His fingers, knobby and sure, gripped the umbrella handle. I noticed his left shoulder was wet—the umbrella had tilted toward me.
I hesitated and moved slightly closer. He paused and looked down at me. I looked up and smiled like an idiot.
He smiled with a helpless shake of his head and pulled the umbrella back a little.
(30) Mr. Stone walked me to the dorm building.
I saw drops on his glasses, fished a tissue from my pocket and handed it to him. I said goodbye with a grin and ran back upstairs, all buoyant and full of life.
I dragged Lily aside and told her every detail.
After I finished she asked, “Are you dating Mr. Stone?”
“…No.”
Suddenly I woke up from a dream. I thumped my chest and then ran out of steam.
“He doesn’t like me?” I asked.
“Maybe not.”
“Does he like me?”
“Maybe.”
“Is he playing with my feelings?”
I started to ramble.
“Hm…maybe.”
Lily stroked her chin and gave that noncommittal answer.
We were both silent after that.
(31) I managed to clear my head of desire for a moment, briefly lucid.
I was awake but not fully awake.
After wrestling for days over whether I loved him or not, a few days later I saw Daniel Stone on campus again and shoved all those thoughts out of my head.
Daniel liked to wear a shirt with jeans, but without fail he never tucked the shirt into his jeans.
This time was different—he’d tucked his shirt in, and shamefully, I realized his butt looked great.
I clapped a hand over my mouth, afraid I’d make some weird noise.
“What’s wrong?”
Daniel looked puzzled.
“Nothing, nothing.”
I took a deep breath, shook my head, and kicked the filthy thought out of my mind.
By all rights I was a total LSP (laughable stalker-proof), but I knew I didn’t act like this around other people.
“Maya.”
Daniel said my name softly.
“Huh?”
My blurry vision snapped clear. I realized I’d been staring at him; I awkwardly flipped my hair and said, “Class is over, Mr. Stone.”
“Mm.”
He gave a small smile and nodded.
I licked my upper teeth with my tongue, counted eight teeth, and then forced what I thought was a perfect smile.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
He pulled a bottle of milk out of his bag.
“Sure.”
I happily took it, then worried about my image and looked down.
Only then did I notice Daniel’s right hand fidgeting, squeezing his left thumb.
I didn’t think much of it—lost in my little bubble—until my wrist was suddenly grabbed.
“Who is she?”
An angry voice hissed in my ear.
I turned to him, annoyed. “Evan, let go.”
He didn’t listen. He just glared at Daniel with pure venom.
His grip tightened; pain shot through my wrist and the milk slipped from my hand and hit the ground.
I watched it roll twice and bruise the pavement.
“Let go.”
Daniel stepped forward, took Evan’s hand in his, displeasure on his face.
The three of us made an extremely awkward tableau.
“He’s my teacher.”
I said it bluntly.
“Oh? Is that so?”
Evan finally released my hand, but there was a thread of insolence in his voice.
My wrist freed, I snatched the bottle up.
“You okay?”
Daniel asked softly.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine in a few days.”
My wrist was already red and swollen; I rubbed it with my other hand to dull the ache a little.
“I’m not dead and you’re already hunting for side lovers?”
Evan said.
I went speechless. “Evan, what does he have to do with you?”
“You…you forgot how you chased me all dramatic-like? I’m giving you a chance to date me now.”
When he said that my heart lurched. I glanced at Daniel; he showed no expression. I relaxed a little, then felt the sting of sadness.
I sighed. “I don’t need that chance.”
Evan narrowed his eyes and threatened, “Say that again.”
“A-chin—”
A girl flung herself into Evan’s arms.
Evan blinked, frowning at the girl. “Who are you?”
She didn’t change her expression and cooed, “We were just walking together.”
Evan’s brow smoothed—apparently he remembered.
I took that chance to tug Daniel and walk away.
I mildly regretted it. Not that many people saw me take Daniel’s hand, but I still scolded myself for being impulsive.
I let go of Daniel. He coughed into a fist and a faint unnatural flush had crept up his pale cheeks.
Maybe I’d walked too quickly to avoid Evan.
Autumn had just started; the weather wasn’t as hot as summer. A breeze lifted Daniel’s shirt and it clung to him, tracing his slim outline.
“Mr. Stone, are you sick?” I asked, uncertain.
“Cough, cough. No.” He managed to stop coughing. “I caught a chill last night.”
But something about him felt off in a way I couldn’t name.
He turned his face away and murmured, “I should go.”
“Ah… okay.”
I nodded.
He hurried off awkwardly. A small, inexplicable worry rose in my chest.
Claire was back.
I heard the news on my way back to the dorm.
Last semester my favorite spicy-sour noodles stall in the cafeteria had closed because the auntie who ran it was hospitalized. Today I heard she’d recovered and reopened. As a devoted fan, I rushed to be her first customer.
I noticed a lot of people staring, but I’d been stared at before and shrugged it off.
I greeted Auntie excitedly, grabbed my bowl, and sat down. Maybe she hadn’t cooked in a while—she’d overdone the chilies. One bite and the spice had me coughing and tearing up.
I wiped my eyes and didn’t notice the chili-oil on my hand. Of course that made everything worse.
“Lils, napkin! Napkin! Help!”
I couldn’t open my eyes and flailed for help from Lily.
She handed me tissues and I pressed one to my eyes until the burning backed off. I was about to check myself in a mirror when a group of girls suddenly surrounded me, startling me.
The leader grabbed my hand, eyes wet. “Senior, we didn’t expect… cough. We’re all girls. We understand your pain.”
“Huh?”
I was dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t worry. We’re your strongest backup now.”
She nodded to the others who nodded back, determined faces turned on me.
“No, I—”
“We’ll go now. Senior, try not to be too sad.”
They hugged me briefly and stormed off in a flurry.
“Lils, what happened?” I asked Lily.
“No clue.”
Lily looked dazed too. She asked, “Want to keep eating?”
“Maybe not.”
I stared at the half-eaten bowl, unwilling, and left with Lily.
On the way back to the dorm my eyes were still puffy but I could see clearly.
Out of sight, out of mind only made me sadder, so I grabbed Lily and decided to go finish that bowl.
Lily thought I’d lost my mind and refused. While I was pleading, I tripped and fell right in front of a girl.
“You okay?”
Her voice was soft and sweet as she helped me up.
I brushed off the dust. “I’m fine.”
“You look swollen around your eyes.”
She said it quietly.
“It was a little accident.” I didn’t want to tell the trivial story.
“Here.” She handed me a pack of wet wipes. “Put them on. They’ll help.”
I was surprised and touched. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled.
She wore a white dress and had a delicate, fresh look about her—something strikingly different. My brain instantly supplied a name: Claire.
“You know me?” she asked, confused.
Lily covered her face embarrassed—I’d blurted Claire’s name out.
“I—” I started to make an excuse when Lily tugged my sleeve to look ahead.
Before I could lift my head, a familiar voice called, “Claire.”
Evan’s tone was gentle as he approached. He stiffened when he saw me but quickly smoothed his expression.
“小沉.” (Note: informal nickname) He stepped to her side and looked at me. I saw his hanging hand clench; I wondered if I’d interrupted something.
“Thanks. I’ll go now.” I thanked her and left with Lily.
“Maya.”
Evan suddenly called after me, making me mortified.
“What is it?”
“You… never mind.” His eyes were deep and unreadable.
“I’ll go then.” I left awkwardly—no point lingering.
“Do you two know each other?” I heard Claire’s soft voice behind me.
“Mm.” Evan said, then added, “Let’s go.” His tone was very gentle.
“Okay.” I turned and watched them walk away shoulder to shoulder.
I couldn’t help the sting in my throat.
The contrast in how he treated me was stark. Thank heavens—I might have actually believed Evan liked me otherwise.
“May.”
Claire looked at me kindly.
“Huh? Huh?” I froze across from her.
“Can I call you that?”
“Ah, sure. Yeah.” I fumbled and took a sip of the lemon juice on the table.
“You like sour things?” she asked, smiling.
“Yeah.”
She didn’t say more—just looked at me.
I sipped the lemon slowly, utterly awkward.
I thought Evan had found his favorite person and that would be the end of it.
Five days later Claire found me and asked to have dinner. I refused the first time, but not twice—when a gorgeous girl keeps inviting you, you eventually cave. I agreed.
She chatted with me the whole time, asking if this tasted good and that was okay, and kept looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read. If I didn’t have any sense of myself I might’ve believed Claire liked me.
“Do you think that could happen?” I rubbed my chin.
Lily rolled her eyes.
When she opened her mouth I hurried to say, “Okay, okay, I get it.”
“What about Mr. Stone?” Lily asked, smoothing her face mask.
I slumped. “I haven’t seen him in ages.”
“You have his number, right? Why don’t you call him?”
I picked up my phone and stared at the top contact: “AAA Daniel Stone.”
I sighed, tapped his name, and stared at the number I knew by heart. I hesitated and then backed out.
“Forget it. It’s already ten. Daniel’s probably asleep,” I muttered.
“How do you know he’s asleep if you don’t call? Besides—” Lily glanced at the mirror and fixed her hair. “Would you even dare call him during the day?”
“I—I would, I guess.” My protest got weaker as it went.
Quick as a flash Lily grabbed my phone and called Daniel Stone.
“Lils, don’t—” I started to reach for it back, but I didn’t hang up. I stared at the screen, but after it rang out Daniel didn’t answer and it disconnected on its own.
Saying I wasn’t upset would’ve been a lie, but I’d already steeled myself, took two deep breaths, and managed to let it go.
I locked my phone and went to wash my face. I’d worked the cleanser into a lather and was halfway through rinsing when my phone rang.
“Mouse, phone!”
“Lils, I’m washing my face. Can you answer and bring it here?”
I was scrubbing, my words slurred.
“Here you go.”
I looked up. Foam had smeared my cheeks; Lily pressed the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
I was a little impatient.
“Mr. Stone.”
That familiar voice made my eyes snap wide open.
If you open your eyes before you rinse the foam off, you pay for it with burning eyes.
They hurt so badly I nearly thought I’d go blind. Flustered, I stammered, “Mr. Stone, I—wait a sec.”
I bent over the sink to splash water on my face.
“Take your time. I won’t hang up.”
Mr. Stone’s voice was gentle.
That only made me more panicked. I fumbled, almost dousing myself completely.
I paced two circles, exhaled, grabbed my phone, and walked out of the dorm.
I carefully held it to my ear but heard nothing at first. My heart sank—had I taken too long?
“Hello? Mr. Stone?”
I hesitated before speaking.
“Mm.”
He answered almost immediately.
My heart soared and I forgot how to speak.
“Is something wrong?” he asked softly.
“No, nothing.” I flinched—hadn’t I just cut the conversation off? “No, there is something. I, um, well…”
Lies need a draft. Mine came out stumbling and incoherent.
“Ahem.”
Two small coughs came through the line.
I blinked. “Mr. Stone, is your cold still bad?”
“Mm.” He smothered another cough. I thought I heard him chuckle faintly. “Seems to have gotten worse.”
“Have you been to the hospital? Are you really okay?”
“It’s fine.” He turned it around, comforting me instead. “Really. Don’t worry so much.”
“Cousin—”
Suddenly a woman’s voice floated in from his end, musical and oddly familiar.
“Lu, I need to hang up now.” Mr. Stone said, then: “Lu, go to bed early. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, watched the call end, then slipped the phone into my pocket and went back to the dorm.
I lay on my bed for a long time, then it hit me.
That was Claire’s voice.
I didn’t sleep all night.
The next day I showed up to class with two dark circles under my eyes.
Right after class, someone grabbed me as I stepped out the door. I glanced down at the pale, delicate hand and then up at the girl smiling at me.
“Azhi.” She beamed—stunning, effortless.
“What’s up?” I rubbed my temple, still half in a daze.
“I need to talk to you.” She glanced at Lily beside me.
Lily caught my hint. “Go rest and catch up on sleep,” she said, and left.
Once Lily was gone, I felt weird—because I had no idea what Claire wanted.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I want to talk about my cousin.” She added, “My cousin’s name is Daniel Stone.”
“Okay.” That came out quicker than I expected. She seemed surprised at my promptness but didn’t press.
“Azhi, let’s walk and talk.”
“Okay.” I nodded.
“Lu!” As we walked downstairs, someone barreled over and grabbed my hand, yanking me along without a word.
“Zoe? What’s—” I frowned at her.
“Emergency!” she hissed, but wouldn’t say what it was.
She looked genuinely frantic, so I told Claire, “Let’s talk next time,” and went with Zoe. Claire waved and smiled.
You might not believe this, but for a split second I thought I saw Mr. Stone’s silhouette.
Zoe hustled me into a taxi and rattled off the name of a karaoke bar, telling the driver to hurry.
That name sounded familiar. When we arrived, I realized I’d been there before—Zoe had dragged me here once.
It felt strange, like coming back to another life.
As soon as we entered, a group in the lobby looked up at the noise and stared at me. I froze.
“Lu, you finally made it.” A boy rushed over and shook my hand.
I stared blankly at him for a moment, then remembered he was one of Evan Carter’s friends. Great. More confusion.
Before I could recover, Zoe dragged me into a private room and begged me to stay. I tried to refuse and leave, but a crowd blocked the door. They pleaded, and I sighed, went inside, discreetly turning on my phone to record.
The room was dim. An old music video played on the screen. In the center sat someone who’d been watching me from the moment I walked in—his eyes full of raw, churning feeling.
“Azhi.” His voice was hoarse. He gestured for me to come closer.
My gut told me something was off, so I stepped back to the doorway.
He stood up and walked toward me. A heavy scent of alcohol hit me, but his face didn’t look drunk.
“I like you.” he said.
I stood there stunned—just for a moment. He looked serious, and despite myself I laughed.
“Evan, do you even know who I am right now?”
“I do.” He shut his eyes briefly, then looked directly at me, clear and steady. “Azhi, I like you.”
“You’re drunk.” I pushed at the door.
He grabbed the door from behind, trapping me in his arms.
I couldn’t go forward or back. I looked up at him. He buried his face in the crook of my shoulder.
“Azhi…” he sighed.
“Evan, what are you trying to do?” I couldn’t make sense of him.
“I…” He took my hand and stroked it. “I really…”
“What about Claire?” I demanded.
“She…” Evan didn’t answer.
“What is your love, then?” I asked. He went silent. I seized the chance, wrenched my hand free, pushed the door open with my back, and left.
Evan didn’t stop me. I walked a little way and then heard a shout and the sound of breaking. I paused but didn’t turn back. I left.
Claire arranged to meet me on campus later. She said she wanted to take me somewhere, and I agreed.
I hadn’t expected a chauffeur. The car was nice—too nice—and the driver politely opened my door. I wasn’t used to that kind of treatment.
We arrived as I was about to nod off. I rubbed my eyes and stepped out.
It was a big house. Beautiful garden with little rabbit statues.
“Let’s go.” Claire led me inside. A maid called out “Miss Claire.” I put the pieces together: Mr. Stone might be rich—a rich man, not a rich woman.
But if he had money, why would he be tutoring me?
“Azhi,” Claire waved from the stairs. We climbed to the third floor. She stopped and pointed to a room, eyes mysterious. “Go in. There’s my cousin’s secret in there.”
“Mr. Stone’s secret?” I said.
“Yes.”
“Is it okay for me to go in?”
“Trust me, it’s good.” She shoved me gently.
I braced myself and opened the door.
It was pitch black. I felt my way toward a dim sliver of light—probably a window—and tripped over several things on the way.
I pulled the curtain back. Sunlight spilled onto the floor. I turned and froze.
This wasn’t just a room; it was an art studio.
I picked up an easel I’d knocked over and found a painting. A girl in the painting was laughing theatrically, clear-eyed, hair curling at the ends. Little dots of light—fireflies—lit her profile, making her glow.
The face looked a lot like mine. I looked at other canvases: the same girl—making faces, flirting with parents, laughing, frowning. Every single one of them was me.
In the corner I saw the signature: “Yuanshan.” Tears blurred my vision.
After who knows how long, I left the room. Claire was waiting on the couch.
“I want to see Daniel Stone.” All I wanted then was to see him.
“Let’s go.” Claire and I walked along a nearly empty street as evening fell. She told me to keep going straight until I reached him.
I thanked her and walked on. The breeze felt nice; I relaxed.
At the end of the road he stood, wearing black, leaning on the railing with his back to me, looking at the view.
“Daniel Stone.” My voice was barely a whisper.
He stiffened and spun around.
“If you catch a cold from the wind it won’t get better.” I stepped closer.
Daniel always remembered that evening of perfect breeze and the girl who called his name softly. When he turned, it was almost like a spell: the warm streetlights behind her kindled one by one from the nearest lamp backward, bathing her in golden light. She looked like she’d walked right out of a painting.
Leaving class, I stretched.
“Did you hear Daniel Stone is resigning?” Lily asked.
“Huh? Really?” My mouth had a straw for lemon tea in it, so my words were muffled. “It doesn’t matter—I can still find him.”
“Have you made any progress with him?” Lily asked.
“What can I do? He won’t let me touch him.” I sighed.
“What kind of callous line is that?” she teased.
“Huh?” I realized how ambiguous that sounded and hurried to explain. “No! I mean literally—he keeps a meter between us. He won’t let me get within a foot.”
“Is this one of those moments where someone gets confident and then shameless?” Lily sized me up and nodded like she’d reached a verdict.
“Huh?” I felt slightly put on the spot.
“Azhi.”
Evan Carter didn't know when he appeared in front of us. His eyes were rimmed in dark blue, he looked worn out, and he leaned lazily against the wall watching me.
"Hm?"
I tilted my head at him.
"You…"
He hesitated, then suddenly smiled. "I have something to tell you."
"Say it here then."
I shook the empty lemon tea bottle in my hand, heard the rattle, and tossed it in the nearby trash can.
"I won't do anything to you anymore."
He dropped his eyelids, a kind of pitiful look I couldn't put a name to.
"Why say that?"
I rubbed the goosebumps on my arms, sighed, and asked, "I'll trust you one last time—where do you want to go?"
"The bleachers."
A light seemed to come into his eyes for a moment; maybe it was just my imagination.
"Okay."
As the sun slid west, Evan and I climbed the bleachers. On the field below, people jogged and chatted.
I folded my arms and leaned against the railing. Evan planted both hands on the rail and stared at the field.
He didn't speak for a long time. Just as I frowned and was about to ask what he wanted, he finally spoke.
"The first time I saw you was right here."
I blinked and followed the direction of his finger down to the basketball court.
"I remember you wearing a white dress and a daisy hairpin. You were talking with Lily Grant and you didn't notice me. I thought, this girl is so much like Claire Bennett—too bad the next second you laughed without a care and ruined the whole image."
I remembered—this was less than two weeks after we enrolled.
"Later you changed your whole personality and inexplicably started chasing me. Even if you seemed more like Claire then, which made me happy, I still had no idea what you were up to. I didn't agree, and you kept persisting, became my simp."
He paused, then asked in a flat tone, "Maya, did you see someone through me?"
My heart jumped; I didn't know what to say.
"Was it Daniel Stone?"
He asked quietly.
"You…"
He cut me off. "Want to know how I knew?"
He raised an eyebrow. "When your eyebrow got hurt, I noticed something off."
He looked up at the sky. "You don't talk to other boys much, except Daniel Stone. And only around the Stone guy do I see that carefree version of you I first met."
"So you treated me differently to try to make me back to how I used to be?"
I asked, uncertain.
"You tell me~"
He pulled a lollipop out of his pocket and popped it in his mouth.
"Now that you know, why chase me back then?" I broke the silence.
"For fun?"
He shrugged with an indifferent smile.
"If I treated you like everyone else, wouldn't you be mad?"
"Why would I be? I'm the same."
"Do you actually like me?"
I looked at him seriously.
He turned to me, then suddenly stepped closer.
He reached up and ruffled my hair hard, chuckling. "Of course I'm lying. Only a fool like you would believe that."
Then he brushed past me.
Although autumn had technically begun, the weather still felt muggy.
I was surprised to find a pond behind Daniel Stone's house.
The pond was well kept, full of lotus pods.
I went back to the house.
"Mr. Stone, can I pick some of your lotus pods?"
Daniel was reading in the living room. He lowered his book, adjusted his glasses, and said, "Sure. But Maya, aren't you supposed to be in class?"
"I'm not going today."
I shrugged and ran back to the pond.
I put my palms together, mouthed a quick "sorry," and plucked a pod.
The pods were still a bit green. I popped a lotus seed in my mouth—mildly sweet, not bitter.
Looking at the whole pond full of pods, I thought if I didn't pick them now they might spoil, so I kept going. Of course, the sky turned against me and it began to rain.
I was about to head back when a mischievous idea stopped me. I kept picking.
After a moment, I felt a shadow over my head and turned to see Daniel in a gray loungewear set.
"Raining and you still not going back?"
He draped his blanket over my shoulders.
"I'm heading back now."
I grinned.
"On purpose?"
He shook his head and laughed helplessly.
"Not really."
Caught, I wasn't embarrassed. I stood under his blanket and walked back with him.
Daniel Stone is really strange.
If it weren't for Claire, I might never have known he liked me. And stranger still, now that I knew, he still wouldn't be with me.
When I chased him, he just smiled and patted my head without a word.
Graduation came and went, and I still hadn't won Daniel Stone.
Claire pointed me toward an answer. She said, "Why do you think he won't agree to you?"
"Why?"
"Does he cough a lot?"
She asked.
I nodded.
"He's dying."
She patted my shoulder.
"That's a lie."
"You been fooled before?"
I froze, took a long moment to catch on.
"Maya? Maya?"
Daniel called.
"Daniel…"
I clung to his sleeve, "You—"
I couldn't get the words out. Tears streamed down.
I had suspected Daniel might be ill, but I never imagined he would die.
"What's wrong?"
He crouched and looked at me with worry.
Unexpectedly, seeing I couldn't reply, Daniel wrapped me in his arms.
The medicinal scent on him made me cry even harder, gasping between sobs.
"What's wrong?" he asked, patting my back.
"Will you—date me?" I blurted, feeling like this might be one of the few chances I'd get.
Daniel froze, smiled softly, and said, "Okay."
"Huh?"
That simple?
I was stunned.
"Can you stop crying now?"
"Mm."
I wiped my tears. "Daniel, even if you die, I'll remember you."
"Huh?"
He looked puzzled.
Before I could say "you're lying," Claire at the doorway laughed with a huge grin.
I realized I'd been tricked.
"You said yes, right?" I asked, unsure—his answer had been too quick.
"Yeah."
He patted my head. "I've wanted to for a long time."
Daniel's side story starts with his earliest memories: his mother dragging him to find his father.
A haze of smoke and a rowdy, noisy gambling den—men throwing cards on the table with their shirts off.
Daniel was afraid. He ran forward a couple of steps and gripped his mother's sleeve, only to meet her indifferent gaze.
She scanned the crowd, found who she was looking for, and stalked off, leaving Daniel behind.
Soon a commotion broke out. Daniel ran over to see his parents arguing—loud and quickly turning physical. No one around tried to stop it; they'd clearly seen this before.
Small Daniel stood frozen, unsure what to do. People nearby whispered. Some looked at him with pity.
After the fight, his parents stormed home angry—no one took Daniel with them.
He stumbled back home by memory. Opening the door, he found the fighting continued.
He learned to live with it.
At seven, his parents divorced.
Even after the split, his gambling father stole the small savings his mother had scraped together. In court, both parents painted themselves as victims and made Daniel feel like a burden. In the end, custody was awarded to his mother.
Daniel never forgot the absolute disgust in her eyes that day.
After that, his mother took to drinking. When she was drunk she beat him. Once she kicked him out the door and ordered him to stay put. He foolishly obeyed, shivering in the night rain, too afraid to move.
He caught a fever from being soaked. His mother's cold indifference only worsened his condition. Only when he was near death did she give him two bags of medicinal herbs.
He brewed them himself and recovered somewhat, though his body remained weak; every two or three days he had to take medicine.
He ran away twice, and good people brought him back. His mother thanked them with a smile and said her child was just being willful.
When she shut the door, her face changed. She grabbed a bamboo cane and beat him. He cried out, but she muffled his screams, pinning him down and striking until she tired.
He lay on the floor and eventually dragged himself back to his room. Late autumn wind crept in; he was thinly clothed and shivering as he reached for the window. A small light flashed toward him. He reached out and caught it—a firefly.
He gently put it in a jar. That night, watching the firefly, he laughed for the first time in a long while.
The next day the house was eerily quiet. He opened his door to find the jar shattered on the floor—glass everywhere and a dark little body among the shards.
"A worthless bug," his mother sneered from the doorway.
He picked up the pieces and swept the firefly and glass into the trash.
In middle school, his mother dragged him to see his father. The man opened the door slowly, reeking of alcohol and holding a half-drunk beer.
His mother pushed herself forward and left. For some reason he didn't follow; he stood and watched her silhouette fade.
The father looked dazed, drunk, grinning at him, then after a long beat shuffled over, "Evan… hic—"
He took a step and stumbled, lunging toward Daniel Stone.
Daniel sidestepped, avoiding what might have been an embrace.
Their father fell to the ground but still smiled up at him, calling his name, "Daniel."
Daniel frowned and helped him onto the couch. The living room was a mess—empty bottles, ashtrays, trash scattered everywhere.
Daniel looked around for a moment, then left.
At home, his mother was eating. She didn't act surprised to see him; she just said flatly, "You came back."
"Yeah."
Daniel nodded and went to his room.
Not long after, the news of his father's death spread.
When Daniel heard it, he felt nothing—just calm.
His mother, on the other hand, drank and laughed like she was having a grand time. Then at some point she started crying.
When he graduated college, his advisor set him up with a tutoring job.
Daniel didn't care much about the work as long as it paid, so on weekends he went to the address his advisor gave him.
The family that hired him was overly warm, apologizing that their child had run out for a bit.
Daniel didn't realize when it started, but he began wearing a smile every day. It made work and life feel lighter.
The door banged open.
A middle-aged man dragged a little girl inside.
She was pretty, all fire in her eyes, clutching a colorful book like it was a treasure.
Her father had to practically force her over before she reluctantly greeted him.
During lessons he found that though her basics were weak, she wasn't stupid—she remembered things after hearing them once.
She laughed a lot; every tutoring session echoed with her uninhibited giggles. Sometimes a sad scene in her novels would make her eyes wet, and in those moments Daniel felt something odd inside—something he couldn't name.
One day she asked Daniel what he liked.
He was surprised and asked what she meant. She stammered and didn't say much.
He watched her shake her head, thinking of reasons. The lamp behind her flickered with each little jerk of her head, and for some reason he thought of the firefly from years ago. He told her he liked fireflies.
A few days later she asked if he could take her somewhere.
He blinked but agreed.
The next day a light rain fell. He looked at the little girl with a runny nose and watery eyes and asked if she still wanted to go.
"Yes," she said firmly.
He assumed it must be important.
They wound up a small hill. She sounded soft and sleepy from her cold and asked if he could wait with her a bit. Since he was already there, he stayed.
Her medicine made her drowsy; she drifted, half-awake.
Just when Daniel thought they should go back, she suddenly got excited and cried out, "Fireflies!"
He answered and stood beside her. Watching the little lights together stirred an inexplicable emotion in him.
On the walk back she tripped. Watching her make that scrunched-up face, his body reacted before his brain did—by the time he realized it, he'd already carried her on his back for a stretch.
She mumbled things in the haze. He stopped and finally heard her clearly.
"Happy birthday, Mr. Stone."
Only then did he remember it was his birthday—a day he'd never celebrated and had long forgotten.
He laughed and said, "Thank you, Maya."
At a roommate party, they were chatting about crushes. Daniel suddenly understood his feelings for the little girl were more than care—he liked her. He tutored her again, watching her for a long time, and then made a decision.
He was going to leave.
He felt he wasn't good enough for her.
After he parted from the girl's family, Daniel went through the motions of life but always felt a hollow ache.
Then one day a group of strangers knocked on his door.
He learned his mother's past was complicated—she had ties to wealth. The messy details didn't interest him.
His mother gave him an apartment as compensation.
He didn't want it at first, but the girl's face popped into his head and he accepted.
He fixed up the place to suit her tastes.
One day a girl came by—Claire Bennett—saying she was there to see her cousin she had never met.
Later he learned she was laying low for a while.
Claire reminded him of the little girl in some ways, so he agreed to let her stay.
During a casual talk he found out the little girl was attending Waverly University. Daniel thought long and hard, then couldn't resist. He applied to the college next to hers.
He became a creep of sorts, watching her from afar; she never noticed.
Because he relaxed into watching, their first real encounter happened.
When he saw her, he pretended calm but was terrified. He finally called the name he had missed for so long. She, like a startled fawn, fled at the sound.
He told himself she probably didn't want to see him.
A few days later he saw her at the school gate. She scrambled for an excuse, saying she was just passing by.
But Daniel had watched her for so long—she never passed by this place.
She ran off. As Daniel was about to enter the campus, he glanced the other way and saw the boy across the street—Evan Carter. Of course he knew him.
Evan was handsome, confident, with clear eyes.
Daniel turned away, not wanting to look.
Since she already knew where he was, and pushed by Claire, Daniel, in a single impulsive act, went to her school.
She was happy to see him, and so was he.
At school he learned more about her life and felt a sudden ache.
A man's instinct told him Evan liked her.
When he confronted Evan that day, Daniel actually felt envy.
Evan could act on impulse for her; Daniel couldn't.
His pneumonia worsened, and Daniel was hospitalized. One night after he was discharged, Maya called. He stared at the screen for a long time, and when he finally picked up it was late.
He debated, then called back, his fingers trembling.
She answered amid the sound of running water and her panicked voice. He soothed her, telling her not to worry.
Claire knocked and came in during the call. Daniel felt like she wanted to say something, so he said goodnight to Maya and hung up.
Claire teased him; he didn't deny it. He asked what she'd been up to lately.
She said she had come to help him.
He didn't understand but didn't press. Then Claire brought Maya to him.
He watched Maya walk toward him bathed in light—shocked, thrilled, and terrified all at once.
Then he made a choice.
To run.
Shameful, but effective.
Daniel kept convincing himself he didn't deserve someone as good as her. Many times the word "yes" hovered on his lips and he swallowed it back.
On the day he visited his father's grave he saw his mother. She showed no reaction when she saw him; her face was cold and indifferent.
He laid flowers down and was leaving when he heard her voice behind him: "Daniel, I'm sorry."
He froze and turned. She stared at the grave like she always had.
Back home, Maya saw him and burst into tears.
Daniel put his arm around her and realized how simple that gesture was.
Reconciliation with yourself could be so easy.
He smiled and said, "Okay."
(The End)
