"Thank you." Charlotte Lee puffed up her cheeks and ignored Andrew Lane, only giving Charles Johnson a cold nod.

"Did you two have a fight?"

Jennifer Lewis was eating when she suddenly asked.

"Us? Who?"

Charlotte Lee seemed a bit uneasy.

"You and Andrew Lane, of course. Ever since middle school, everyone said you two were actually a couple, the classic childhood friends."

"No, we're not childhood friends, and we didn't have a fight." Charlotte Lee suddenly felt a bit of a sourness at the corner of her mouth.

"I think so too," Jennifer Lewis continued, talking with her mouth full, "I think you and Thomas Chase are actually a better match."

Charlotte Lee's heart skipped a beat.

"Oh?"

"Why is the tofu so salty today, did someone kill the salt seller?"

"Yeah."

Jennifer Lewis didn't say anything more, just rambled on about some trivial things.

Why don't you say more, why do you think I match better with Thomas Chase? Charlotte Lee's heart hung in midair, but she still kept a smile on her face and chatted with Jennifer Lewis about some meaningless little things.

Why do I match better with Thomas Chase? Is it just you who thinks so, or do a lot of people say that? What exactly do they say? Has Thomas Chase heard these rumors? What would he think?

Do you know how I feel inside? Do you know I really like Thomas Chase?

Charlotte Lee looked at Jennifer Lewis's bulging cheeks and the way she was spraying saliva everywhere, and felt a sting in her nose.

Forget it.

Only Charlotte Lee herself knew that, though she called friends together, she didn't even have one person she could talk to about girls' secrets.

Why is there no one trustworthy in this world.

Why.

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6. Tacit Understanding

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Zoe Young stood quietly at the door of Class Three waiting for Ray Cindy. Through the glass of the front door, she could see that the politics teacher in Class Three was the same one who taught her class—a middle-aged woman who loved to nag and drag out class, with lipstick applied far too thickly. If you stared at her bright lips opening and closing during class, you’d soon fall into a hypnotic trance.

In the hallway, students heading home after school passed by in small groups. Zoe Young stood like a statue, frozen in the flow of people.

When she turned her head, she saw Andrew Lane coming up the side stairwell, laughing and joking with a few buddies.

Zoe Young thought of the morning flag-raising. After that rather unpleasant conversation, she had gone to the girls’ bathroom, and when she came out, Ray Cindy was already gone. Walking alone past the playground, as she passed the flag-raising platform, she looked up—and met Andrew Lane's gaze.

The boy, who had just been bantering with the student council, lost the last traces of his smile the moment he saw Zoe Young, his face turning a little anxious and uneasy.

Zoe Young stood in the crowd, silently watching him for a while. Only when the other student council members noticed Andrew Lane's odd behavior and started looking in her direction did she lower her head and continue to drift with the crowd toward the plaza.

Maybe it was that cruel dream in the morning that woke her up. After a whole year immersed in her own world, Zoe Young finally began to face the hurt her careless words had caused him back then.

Andrew Lane was like a pitiful Yang Bailao, constantly telling her with his eyes, I know I owe you, I know, but how am I supposed to repay you?

But she was never Huang Shiren.

Watching Andrew Lane say goodbye to his friends and walk closer and closer to the door of Class Three, Zoe Young squashed her urge to look down and avoid him, and instead looked straight at him.

Actually, Zoe Young didn’t know what to do. Standing there like a stone statue felt wrong, as if she were a gloomy girl trapped in the shadow of some deep trauma, which would only trouble Andrew Lane more if he saw it. Of course, she didn’t want to overcompensate either, acting overly warm and friendly just to show she didn’t care. So, she hesitated.

While Zoe Young was still hesitating, Andrew Lane tentatively came to stand beside her.

"Are you waiting for someone?" Zoe Young chose to start as if nothing had happened.

This was the first thing they’d said to each other since starting high school. Are you waiting for someone?

Andrew Lane was clearly flustered. He smiled, then quickly put on a serious face: "Oh, I’m waiting, I’m waiting for Charlotte Lee."

Zoe Young noticed that Andrew Lane suddenly blushed after saying this, and couldn’t help but smile.

"Mm, I heard you two have always been really good friends, just like before."

"Oh, you heard that... Who told you?"

Zoe Young was stunned for a moment, and Andrew Lane hurriedly said, "No, no, no, I’m not waiting for Charlotte Lee, and I didn’t mean to ask who told you, I—I’ll go now, bye."

As Andrew Lane was about to run away, Zoe Young decisively reached out to stop him.

Better to just say what needs to be said, Zoe Young thought. She’d been turning this over in her mind all day.

"Andrew Lane, I just want to tell you, what happened back then was all a coincidence. I know that myself, I don’t blame you. I was too emotional at the time and said some thoughtless things. Please forgive me."

That should be enough, right?

Andrew Lane was silent for a long time. Zoe Young saw something bright flickering in his eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, a short boy stretched out his arm and put it around Andrew Lane's neck. "Waiting for Charlotte Lee again?"

Then he squinted at Zoe Young for a moment and said, "Wait, this isn’t our class beauty!"

The boy’s gaze lingered on the sleeve of Andrew Lane's shirt that Zoe Young was holding. Zoe Young suddenly felt a little awkward. She let go, didn’t try to smooth things over, just gave a faint smile and turned to leave.

She vaguely heard the boy behind her say in surprise, "Did I... did I interrupt her confessing to you?"

Zoe Young texted Ray Cindy: I’m waiting for you at the hall windowsill.

Sitting by the windowsill, she turned on her Walkman. The man inside was humming in a low voice, "Five years, we’re at the airport station."

Her phone vibrated—a new message from an unfamiliar number.

"This is Andrew Lane. Nathan Lucas is a good buddy of mine, he’s always like that, please don’t mind him."

He actually had her phone number. Zoe Young tilted her head and looked at the message, not sure how to reply, so she just ignored it.

She closed her eyes and drifted off.

The cold touch of the glass behind her suddenly reminded her of when she was four, living with her mom in a suburban bungalow. There was a big ditch in front of the door that often filled with water, and someone had thrown a big wooden plank into it. She was bored alone during the day, so she dragged the big broom from the yard to the ditch, jumped onto the plank, and imagined she was Huck Finn’s girlfriend from the cartoon, desperately rowing a boat on the stormy sea, swinging the huge iron broom with all her might. When she got tired, she’d sit on the plank, hug her knees like people on TV, rest her forehead on her knees, and mumble, "Huck, don’t worry, I’m coming to save you."

The wind accidentally closed the door, locking her outside. She could only sit on her lonely boat and wait for her mom to come home. The late autumn evening was chilly, and the cold touch of the boat made her shiver.

But it was okay, Huck was still there, and he was deeply grateful for her selfless rescue.

It had been so long. Zoe Young called out in her heart for the duke, the viscount, Huck, Tuxedo Mask, but they never appeared again.

She suddenly thought of saying goodbye to Ian just now. Ian had spent the whole day hunched over his desk, digging out all kinds of highlighters from his treasure chest of a pencil case and scribbling in his books. But Zoe never thought he was some kind of academic ace—there was no fighting spirit in his eyes, no passion, and none of that guarded look of someone with big ambitions.

Only exhaustion, with red veins crawling across his eyes.

Even though she liked her deskmate’s genuine warmth, Zoe Young still rarely talked to him. By contrast, the two girls at the desk behind had already started discussing life and sharing their not-so-important secrets, whispering and then going to the bathroom together—this was how many girls’ friendships began.

Sharing each other’s secrets, then using those "sworn to secrecy" secrets to trade for someone else’s, gaining a fragile best-friendship.

While she was thinking, Ray Cindy had already come up to her and softly said, sorry to keep you waiting, without complaining about the teacher dragging out class.

Her phone vibrated again—it was the same number. The same message.

Zoe Young's heart suddenly trembled. Andrew Lane's persistence seemed to have never changed since they were kids.

"Ray Cindy, Zoe."