Both of them were almost full. Zoe Young decided not to avoid it anymore, looked straight at him and asked, “Andrew Lane, why did you want to see me? What’s the matter?”

Andrew Lane stared into Zoe Young’s eyes, as if he wanted to look right through the window of her soul.

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“Really, it’s nothing,” Andrew Lane shook his head firmly, “At least, right now, there’s nothing.”

He picked up his tray and stood up. “My school uniform collar is crooked, and my hands are full. Can you fix it for me?”

Zoe Young had just stuffed the napkin packet into her pocket and looked up at him in surprise.

Andrew Lane stubbornly stared at her, with a look that said, “If you don’t fix my collar, I’m not leaving.” People were coming and going in the cafeteria, and suddenly a ripple stirred in Zoe Young’s heart.

She lowered her head, still pretending to be indifferent, and reached out to gently straighten his collar, though her fingertips trembled slightly.

“All done.”

“Let’s go, back to class!” Andrew Lane beamed with a radiant smile.

The clanging sounds from the tray return area echoed through the spacious cafeteria, filled with the bustle of people and the aroma of food. In that crowded corner, the chaotic pieces in Andrew Lane’s heart, scattered for a whole year, suddenly began to fall into place, slowly forming a complete picture.

“周周!”

When Zoe Young reached the classroom door, Andrew Lane called out to her from behind.

“What?”

“…It’s nothing.” Andrew Lane silently clenched his fist. Some things could wait to be said.

It would be fine to say them after he’d done it.

“On Wednesday or Friday at noon, our class has a basketball game against Class One. You have to come watch!”

Before Zoe Young could respond, Andrew Lane turned and ran off. The wind caught his loose white uniform as he ran, making him feel like a bird about to take flight.

This year—or rather, these ten years—the map he’d been piecing together in a muddled way by instinct was now clearly spread out at his feet.

This time, he didn’t want to talk. No more explanations, arguments, confessions, or promises.

No more talk of forever.

But he was no longer confused, no longer awkward.

“Ha, I heard everything.”

Zoe Young turned her gaze from the corner where Andrew Lane’s figure had disappeared. The girl leaning against the door with a big grin was none other than Michael, who had been missing all morning.

“You’re back,” Zoe Young greeted her.

“You sound like a little wife, tsk tsk. Have you been waiting for me to come back all this time?”

Michael grinned mischievously and lifted Zoe Young’s chin with her finger. “Come on, give me a smile.”

At her words, Zoe Young broke into the brightest smile.

She just thought Michael was really funny.

But Michael was startled and took a big step back. “Whoa, I’ve never seen anyone as cooperative as you. You, you, you… who are you?” She scratched her head, a little embarrassed after saying that.

“My name is Zoe Young.”

Michael raised her eyebrows slightly when she heard that, as if she remembered something, then immediately smiled.

“Oh, my name is Michael.”

She nodded. “Hello, Michael.”

Michael scratched her head. “No need to be so polite. Hello. Hey… can you do me a favor and help me take down the poster on the desk?”

Zoe Young glanced back at the pitiful Iverson. “Giving in?”

Michael shook her head. “No, I’m just going to put up a new one.”

Zoe Young laughed out loud. “Okay, I’ll help you.”

They squatted in front of the desk, using a utility knife to cut through the clear tape. The problem was, Michael had used way too much double-sided tape to make it stick, and it was hard to clean up. The two of them worked up a sweat, and with the first afternoon class about to start, the desk was still a mess.

“Just bear with it. Tomorrow, when we put up a new poster, it’ll cover everything.”

“Yeah, I know,” Michael clapped her hands and wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Thanks, 周周. In return, I’ll keep everything I just heard a secret.”

“What did you hear?”

“Isn’t that your boyfriend?”

Zoe Young couldn’t help but laugh. “No.”

“Then who is he?”

Zoe Young thought for a moment and suddenly realized she couldn’t define what Andrew Lane was to her. He wasn’t a friend, not just a regular classmate, so who was he?

She shook her head. “He…”

“I get it, he’s chasing you.” Michael shook her messy short hair, her tanned skin glowing pink from the effort of tearing down the poster. She grinned gossipily, but the curve of her lips was full of kindness.

“No…”

“Oh, you guys just like to make things complicated, overthinking everything. Remember, keep it simple. What’s that English phrase, something about ground…”

“Down to the ground? That doesn’t mean ‘keep it simple’…”

“If I say it does, then it does! From now on, that’s what it means.” By now, other classmates were taking their seats, many of them looking at Michael, who’d been dragged out early in the morning, as if she were a weirdo. But she didn’t care at all, still loudly expressing her opinion as if no one else was there. “Anyway, just face your feelings. He likes you, he’s chasing you, I can tell right away.”

Zoe Young blushed, wishing she could rush over and cover Michael’s mouth.

She realized that in front of Michael and Andrew Lane, her memories and emotions were slowly coming back to life.

All the emotions besides hate.

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9. If you’re not wild, you’re not young

Fastest updates of the latest chapters of Hello, Old Times!

Zoe Young had to admit, basketball games really are best watched live.

In cartoons, Gregory Morgan’s three-pointers could be frozen four or five times, each freeze-frame interspersed with a flashback, missing all the tension of the real moment. It was nothing like now, with the sharp squeak of sneakers on the floor as the boys ran, the heavy breathing, the scrambles, and the heartbeat-like “thump thump” of the basketball hitting the ground.

Every time those boys raced past Zoe Young, she could feel a vibrant energy pulsing right beside her.

The cheers from both cheer squads made her want to shout along, but when she opened her mouth, she found she just didn’t have the passion.

Back when Mia Waters and the others played a soccer match against Class Five, it was on concrete, not intense at all, and the skill level was average, but it still made all the boys and girls, herself included, shout themselves hoarse. They even got so petty that they couldn’t stand any little tricks from the other side. Soon, the cheering escalated into mutual taunts and accusations, and finally turned into a full-on debate between Class Six and Class Five. The battlefield shifted from the soccer field to the stands, and in the end, the teachers had to step in to mediate.

It was all because of a sense of belonging, a natural urge to defend your own.

But now, Zoe Young just couldn’t bring herself to shout.

What surprised her was that she actually spotted Ray Cindy in the crowd. The students from Class One all thought Zoe Young and Ray Cindy had come back to cheer for their original class, so they were naturally placed in Class One’s section.

After her surprise, Zoe Young looked toward the court and suddenly understood why Ray Cindy had given up her lunch break to come watch a basketball game she’d never been interested in.

Thomas Chase raised his hand and called for a timeout. The sweat on his flushed face made him look even more like an ordinary, passionate teenager.

Zoe Young suddenly wondered what Alan Carter would be like if he played basketball.

On the other side of the court was Class Two’s section, lined up in a row, with the empty water jug from the water dispenser dragged out as well.

Two students were banging on the jug with mop handles, making a huge racket, full of energy but not much style. In the crowd, the one shouting “Class Two will win!” with a bright smile was Charlotte Lee.

By the time Zoe Young got to the basketball court, the game had already been going for a while. She asked the students around her what the score was, and got five or six different answers.

She shook her head. The score didn’t matter; after all, there are only two outcomes to a game—win or lose.

Class Two was ahead now, but as for by how much, Zoe Young didn’t care.