"Beautiful girls? At our age, the real beauties haven't even shown up yet. The ones you see are just girls who started using foundation a few years earlier than their peers and spend more effort on their hair and clothes. Of course they look better than you, with your plain, natural look."

Benny's ability to appreciate beauty was getting stronger and stronger. Zoe Young only found out through the gossip of Ray Cindy's classmates that day that Benny's new girlfriend, Laura Lawrence, was the girl with the white Cadillac.

Suddenly, Zoe Young remembered something: "Oh right, I actually did see a really beautiful girl. Truly beautiful, not because of her hairstyle or clothes. She's not in our class, but we used to be classmates. Her name is Charlotte Lee."

Benny had a look of sudden realization: "I know, the school beauty. I even chased after her when I was in first year of high school."

There was actually a bit of childish competitiveness on his face.

"Oh," Zoe Young said, "looks like you failed."

"It didn't really bother me. I was chasing a lot of people at the same time back then anyway."

"True, you can't put all your eggs in one basket."

"Smart," Benny laughed, "Zoe has always understood me best."

In the end, Benny didn't resist his parents spending money to send him to the branch school. Since Zoe Young was going, he might as well go too, even though they'd see each other less and less.

Just as Zoe Young was about to turn and walk down another path, Benny suddenly called out to her.

"Zoe!"

"What?"

Benny was silent for a moment, then finally lifted his face and smiled, "It's nothing. Zoe, try to smile more often."

Zoe Young was stunned for a moment, then nodded.

She left without looking back.

Just as she was stepping into the classroom, she suddenly heard a loud crash. A girl with a somewhat rebellious expression slammed a basin onto the floor and pointed at Director Lewis, shouting loudly, "You really are nosy as hell!"

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7. Underlying Currents

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Charlotte Lee discovered that it's really hard not to offend people. She didn't know how many times she'd turned to look at Patricia Lucas sitting diagonally behind her.

Patricia Lucas stared at her coldly, not avoiding her gaze at all. Charlotte Lee sighed softly, determined to explain things properly to her after class.

As the new class monitor, Charlotte Lee had a lot of work to do: collecting copies of household registration books from classmates, organizing files, reporting the names and numbers of ethnic minorities and overseas Chinese...

So during self-study, when she asked, "Are there any ethnic minorities in our class?" Patricia Lucas raised her hand, and without thinking, she blurted out, "Branch school and transfer students don't count."

The whole class fell silent. Out of 57 students, 28 were from the branch school, and there were plenty of transfer students.

Charlotte Lee suddenly felt a cold sweat break out on her back. She hurriedly added, "I mean, the branch school is counted separately..."

No matter how she said it, it was wrong. Charlotte Lee thought bitterly to herself, If you're from the branch school, and you couldn't get into the main school, you can't blame others for bringing it up. Mentioning the branch school isn't really discrimination. If you react so strongly, isn't it just because you look down on the branch school yourselves?

But no matter what, Charlotte Lee knew she had to smooth things over. She didn't want to make enemies right at the start of the school year, especially not all 28 at once.

As soon as the bell rang, Charlotte Lee stood up, put on a smile, and walked over to Patricia Lucas, asking softly, "Peipei, which ethnic group are you from?"

Patricia Lucas was sitting at her desk, carefully applying nail polish, not even looking up: "I can't remember."

Some girls nearby snickered. Charlotte Lee blushed bright red, but decided to just go for it: "I really didn't mean it just now.

I'm sorry."

Back in middle school, she'd been badmouthed behind her back, but thanks to Andrew Lane and Charles Johnson looking out for her, she slowly learned to rein in her pride and bluntness. Most of the time, compared to the dignity of never saying "sorry," avoiding trouble was the real truth.

Besides, she genuinely hoped everyone would like her. Whenever she heard negative comments about herself, she'd be upset for half a day, wondering if it was her fault or if the other person was just petty. If it was the latter, was there any way to fix it...

Charlotte Lee almost forgot to wonder what could make a princess lower herself so much.

"What did you do just now? What do you mean, meant it or not?" Patricia Lucas's tone grew sharper and sharper, and the pride in Charlotte Lee's heart that hadn't yet been worn away made her suddenly stand up.

"I'm apologizing to you because I really didn't mean it, and that's just my upbringing. Show some self-respect!"

Patricia Lucas glared at her, speechless for a long time.

After her dramatic turn, Charlotte Lee sat back down and covered her forehead in frustration.

She quickly sent a text: "Charles Johnson you bastard!"

Charles Johnson quickly replied with a smiley face—":)".

"Who pissed you off this time?"

Whenever Charlotte Lee was upset, she might selectively tell Andrew Lane about her troubles, but she'd always send the same text to Charles Johnson: "Charles Johnson you bastard!"

Charles Johnson was her punching bag. Charles Johnson's words were getting sharper and sharper, and whenever she had anger she couldn't vent, but couldn't bring herself to curse outright, Charles Johnson would always sense what she wanted and curse up a storm for her.

That Charles Johnson, like a shadow.

Charlotte Lee didn't notice that a pair of eyes had been watching her the whole time, from her inner struggle to her apology, to her angry outburst, and finally back to her seat, still conflicted.

Eyes as sharp as her name.

The bell for the last class of the morning rang, but Zoe Young's deskmate Michael still hadn't come back.

During morning inspection, Director Lewis had found that Michael had just plastered her whole desk with huge posters of Iverson, making a colorful tablecloth that was extremely eye-catching from afar. As a strict disciplinarian, she tore them down without a word.

Director Lewis was a very old-fashioned teacher, having taught at Brightstar High School for 20 years, and was still the geography teacher for Class 7. Her favorite thing to say in class was: "Back in the day, Brightstar High School only had six classes per grade. Everyone wore their uniforms neatly, was lively in class, and after class, everyone sat quietly at their desks for self-study. There was never any need for teachers to patrol, and it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop..."

That elite Brightstar High School—even the high school division of the Normal University Affiliated School couldn't compare to the tip of Brightstar High School's tail.

China has both Peking and Tsinghua Universities, but in this province, there's only Brightstar High School, only Brightstar High School.

So there was never any need for new school buildings. Whenever Director Lewis thought of all the transfer students and the huge branch school that came with this fancy new building, her heart ached.

The battle between Director Lewis's heartbreak over transfer students and Brightstar High School's decline, and the equally heartbroken transfer student Michael over her ruined Iverson poster, was about to erupt.

For a moment, Zoe Young thought that Director Lewis, whose lips had turned pale, was about to faint.

With 20 years of teaching experience, she'd weathered many storms and managed to hold her ground. The timid homeroom English teacher, having been tipped off, rushed into the classroom and practically dragged Michael away.

"I like him! When I cover my desk with his picture, I want to study! What business is it of yours? What business is it of yours?"

Michael's defiant shouts echoed down the hallway for a long time.

Zoe Young had liked male leads or supporting characters from cartoons or detective novels before, but this was the first time she'd seen someone like Michael, who, even while being dragged away, was still yelling, "If you dare tear up my man, I'll fight you!"

She couldn't help but laugh.

It had been a long time since she'd felt this kind of pure happiness. Such a bold youth—youth really is wonderful.

Her nose stung a little. Just a little.

As she was recalling Michael's heroic feat that morning, she looked up and saw Andrew Lane running over from afar.

"Sorry, sorry," he ran so fast his uniform collar was crooked, "Our homeroom teacher kept nagging about the school physical, so class ran late. I'm sorry I'm late."

Zoe Young nodded, and, almost involuntarily, reached out to straighten his collar. Andrew Lane had grown so tall, really like a towering poplar tree. Zoe Young's height had stopped at centimeters, and she had to look up at him now.

Some things, even when you're clear-headed, you can't understand how you managed to do them.

Andrew Lane froze, standing there dumbly, not daring to move until Zoe Young pulled her hand back. "Mm, that's much better."

Then she walked toward the stairs on her own, completely natural, as if she hadn't noticed Andrew Lane's shyness and awkwardness at all.

The surprise and excitement Andrew Lane had felt just a moment ago had already faded.