"Your homeroom teacher is an idiot too. She taught Vincent Smith in the first year, and because Vincent Smith had good grades, she treated him like her own son. She never even considered what kind of person this so-called model student really is. Now her own resume isn't impressive enough, she can't get into a top school, so she wants to use you as a stepping stone to boost her own value?" Sean Parker flicked his cigarette ash and continued, "If you ask me, Bro Henry, you might as well just expose all of Vincent Smith's dirty laundry—he's got guts, running straight into the line of fire. Who knows who'll end up dead?"
"Expose what?" Henry Howard said. "Lily Morgan's matter can't be mentioned."
Sean Parker finished his last drag, sighed, "Damn."
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16. Chapter Sixteen
The two of them sat in silence for quite a while.
Sean Parker was craving another cigarette after finishing one, but Henry Howard really couldn't stand the smell, especially since he hadn't managed to quit smoking yet. He raised his hand and pointed at the door, "If you want to smoke, go outside. Get out."
Sean Parker said, "So you don't smoke, but you have to restrict my freedom?"
Henry Howard tossed a pillow at him.
Sean Parker was quick and dodged to the side.
As they spoke, the phone Henry Howard had left on the table suddenly lit up, accompanied by a "ding-dong" notification sound. A few seconds later, the screen went dark again.
Henry Howard picked up the phone and checked—it was a message from Ethan Young, just six words and a punctuation mark.
All afternoon, the leadership is observing classes.
"Who is it?" Sean Parker leaned over to ask.
Henry Howard looked down and typed, saying, "An emotionless killer."
Sean Parker didn't have a strong impression of Ethan Young. Ever since Ethan Young and Henry Howard became deskmates, he'd only started interacting with him more.
The first time he saw Ethan Young, he thought this guy was ridiculously good-looking but not easy to get along with. And in fact, that's exactly how it turned out.
His Bro Henry was the exception.
"Emotionless? That's just towards you," Henry Howard replied, then openly showed his phone screen to Sean Parker. "See? My deskmate treats me like spring sunshine."
Sean Parker felt this wasn't as warm as Henry Howard thought.
After all, when he left Class 3 of Grade 2 earlier, he saw Ethan Young tear off a sheet of paper in annoyance, scribble a few big words, and toss it onto Henry Howard's desk. Probably too many people had come asking about Henry Howard that morning, so the note was written carelessly: Not here, skipping class, no idea.
It was the first time Sean Parker had seen someone so boldly announce their deskmate was skipping class.
The truth of the matter really wasn't that warm.
Normally, if the leadership was coming to observe, they'd notify in advance, even pick the class, and have the teacher arrange every Q&A session. But this time it was sudden. Chelsea Shaw had to call back urgently and ask Mr. Wayne from the neighboring class to help watch her class—absolutely no one could be missing.
Mr. Wayne went to Class 3, hesitated for a long time next to the note on Henry Howard's desk, and finally asked Ethan Young to try contacting someone. If they really couldn't get him back, they'd just say he was out sick.
There were less than ten minutes left before afternoon class. Henry Howard straightened his clothes and headed out, but halfway there he noticed Sean Parker was still spacing out. "What are you standing there for? Go to class."
Sean Parker said "Ah," walked to the door, then suddenly stopped. He scratched his head and asked, "What do we do about this? We can't mention Lily Morgan, so how are we supposed to handle it?"
The topic circled back again.
Henry Howard had his hands in his pockets. He said, "We'll talk about it later."
The matter with Vincent Smith really did come back into focus not long after.
First, Chelsea Shaw took Vincent Smith to the school administration, saying this couldn't just be let go. Later, even Vincent Smith's parents came to the school, insisting the school give them an explanation.
"Look at my son's face, his arms—what a sin. How can your school have people like this?"
Both of Vincent Smith's parents wore glasses and looked like intellectuals, but the way they spoke was nothing like that: "We heard your school has this Henry Howard, always causing trouble. It's no surprise he'd hit our kid. Why is it that you still can't punish him? How does your school handle things?"
Chelsea Shaw, as Henry Howard's homeroom teacher, stood to the side with a blank face: "We do bear a lot of responsibility for this matter. I will educate him properly. Here, I sincerely apologize to you for my student's mistake—"
Henry Howard really couldn't listen anymore.
"Educate?" Henry Howard laughed angrily. "Are you qualified to educate anyone?"
"—How can you talk to your teacher like that?"
The situation was at a stalemate, but just then, a witness appeared.
Luke Carter knocked and entered: "Ms. Shaw, you wanted to see me?"
After coming back from the office, Luke Carter was immediately surrounded by classmates: "Class monitor, we heard you testified in court?"
"You really saw Henry Howard hit Vincent Smith with your own eyes?"
Luke Carter corrected, "It was before, I saw it before."
"Impressive, you're a warrior."
Everyone was talking at once, saying they wouldn't dare risk their lives to stand up like that.
"Thanks, thanks," Luke Carter said. "I hesitated for a long time too, but for love and justice—"
Ethan Young didn't like to comment on these things; it had nothing to do with him.
Even what you see with your own eyes isn't always the truth, let alone hearsay.
Back when he was hiding from debt collectors on Blackwater Street, he thought only thugs and gangsters lived there, but there was nowhere else to go. Yet on the first day, Yvonne Shaw, covered in tattoos and swearing like a sailor, came over with a bowl of dumplings: "Made too many, not the best, but you guys make do."
That one act of kindness lasted them nearly ten years.
"So what happened in the end? What's the situation now?"
Luke Carter said, "He might get expelled. This time it's pretty serious."
"Expelled?!"
The class was buzzing with gossip, while Ethan Young kept playing on his phone at his desk.
It was a long time before Henry Howard was released from the office. When he came back to the classroom, Luke Carter was at the podium answering a math question. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Henry Howard walk in, and the chalk in his hand snapped in half.
Unexpectedly, Henry Howard didn't even look at him.
Luke Carter secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Ethan Young was a bit suspicious about how serious they made the expulsion sound—was the punishment real or fake? After all, Henry Howard came back and still had the mood to keep playing dress-up games.
Compared to Henry Howard, Sean Parker was much more agitated, looking more like the one about to be expelled: "Damn it, where did your class monitor pop up from this time?"
"Why are you yelling? The guy's pretty nice," Henry Howard said. "It's not his fault."
Sean Parker: "So what's the situation now? They let you go so you can think it over, but you still have to apologize and write a self-criticism, right? Chelsea Shaw is that persistent? Her whole career is just missing your self-criticism?"
During PE class, the two classes happened to have it together. The two of them walked across the soccer field toward the stands.
Sean Parker rambled on, and Henry Howard wasn't sure if he was really listening. He saw Ethan Young sitting under a tree up ahead and even waved to say hi.
Ethan Young heard someone call him, just looked up, and a ball bounced over from the basketball court behind, heading straight for his head: ""
A boy walked out from the court behind, "Slipped, sorry."
Sean Parker saw who it was and instantly exploded: "Vincent Smith, you did that on purpose, didn't you?"
Couldn't even hit the right person—judging by the angle, it was clearly meant for Henry Howard.
Henry Howard didn't say anything, bent down to pick up the ball, walked over to Ethan Young, then hurled it hard in Vincent Smith's direction. The ball whizzed past Vincent Smith's side and slammed into the iron fence with a loud bang. Henry Howard smiled and returned the favor with two words: "Slipped."
Vincent Smith's friend came over to smooth things over, pulling him away: "Sorry, sorry."
But Vincent Smith stood his ground, refusing to move. He was skinny, his clothes hanging off his bones, his face covered in pimples and dark circles, looking especially weak. He stood there and finally forced out a sentence: "Henry Howard, this isn't over. You're finished."
Henry Howard said, "Cut the crap and get lost."
"You know why?" Vincent Smith smiled. "Because your grades suck."
"You—" The words "your grades suck" seemed to hit a nerve for Henry Howard, or maybe it was just all the pent-up emotion from these days finally finding an outlet. He slowly walked forward, his voice hoarse, "Don't you understand human language?"
Henry Howard rarely lost his temper.