Henry Howard had no choice but to ask Sean Parker out during the ten-minute break between classes. The two of them chatted for a while at the stairwell: "Do you have any suggestions?"

Sean Parker wanted to say: If it were someone else, I might be able to help brainstorm, but when it comes to your Ethan Young...

Ethan Young is the kind of person who’s especially hard to figure out. Even though they’re a bit closer now, his likes and dislikes are still a mystery.

"What should I give him," Sean Parker racked his brains, and finally hesitantly said three words, "Give him a head?"

Henry Howard didn’t know whether to praise his buddy’s wild imagination: "Can you be normal for once?"

Sean Parker was out of ideas, and even thinking until he was bald couldn’t come up with a second one: "It’s your Old Young, you should know better than me. Think carefully, what is he interested in?"

Henry Howard sat on the steps, thought for a while, and finally said, "Me."

Sean Parker: "Huh?"

Henry Howard said again, "Me. He’s interested in me."

That was the end of the conversation for the day.

Sean Parker lowered his head and wiped his face with his hand, feeling utterly hopeless: "Anyway, we definitely have to buy a cake. How about we start with the birthday cake—"

The stairwell was very close to the corridor, and Sean Parker’s two shouts of "cake" were quite loud. Wanda happened to be coming back from the teachers’ office. He hadn’t noticed anyone at the stairwell at first, but when he heard the voices, he stopped, took two steps back: "What birthday cake? Whose birthday is it?"

Henry Howard: ""

Ethan Young wasn’t really sure what Henry Howard and Wanda’s group were always chatting about since the start of the semester, just felt that this group was a bit odd, but couldn’t put his finger on exactly why.

Every time he walked by, Wanda would immediately and awkwardly change the subject: "I love my motherland."

When Wanda came knocking on his door in the middle of the night, asking if he wanted to take a walk around the dorm building, Ethan Young finally found a fitting reason for this "weirdness": "Are you sick or something?"

Wanda stood at the door, looking a bit gloomy: "I can’t sleep, too much stress lately, wanted to talk to you."

Ethan Young leaned against the door, glanced down at the time on his phone.

Eleven thirty.

Lights were already out, and the dorm building was eerily quiet.

The Westlake High dorm building only had six floors, and the rooftop was always locked, students weren’t allowed up there. Wanda said he wanted to walk around the dorm, but actually led him upstairs.

"Honestly, I’ve been really lost lately," Wanda said as they walked, "I can’t find direction in life, tossing and turning every night."

Ethan Young: ""

Normally, Ethan Young would have said, "None of my business."

But thinking about how Wanda had been acting weird lately, in just a few minutes, several thoughts flashed through Ethan Young’s mind. When Wanda pushed open the iron door to the rooftop, he was just about to say, "Don’t do anything stupid," when suddenly someone hugged him from behind, covering his eyes with one hand.

Everything went black.

—A hand with distinct knuckles and warmth firmly blocked all his vision.

Ethan Young was led forward a few steps, the wind from the rooftop slipping under his clothes.

Then that hand slowly loosened, and in the darkness, through the slightly parted fingers, Ethan Young caught a glimpse of tiny, flickering lights.

Suddenly, everything in front of Ethan Young lit up.

The rooftop wasn’t very big. Looking down from the top floor, there were scattered lights, the sound of cars from the roads below, and the noisy wind blowing everywhere.

A folding table—who knows where they got it—was set up, with a birthday cake on top. The rooftop had been simply decorated, with a few bags of stuff off to the side.

Henry Howard’s slightly rising tone circled his ear twice as he spoke.

"Happy birthday."

Not just one voice.

Almost all the boarders from Class Three were there, crowding together in a lively group: "Happy birthday, Yu-ge!"

Ethan Young actually didn’t really remember his own birthday.

If it weren’t for Ms. Miller reminding him every year, and constantly asking if there was anything he wanted, "birthday" would probably be something he’d just forget about.

A few days ago, Ms. Miller had mentioned it again. Ethan Young was working on a test while on the phone, and by the time he finished a big question, he could barely remember what Ms. Miller had said.

"Were you messing with me just now? Where’d you get the key?"

Ethan Young glanced at them, then said, "Wanda, you and your ‘life path, lost direction, confusion’?"

Henry Howard cleared his throat: "We pried it open."

Wanda tried to change the subject, lighting the candles and urging him to make a wish: "Yu-ge, this crazy wind, damn, hurry up and blow them out or they’ll go out on their own."

A few people formed a circle, trying to block the wind: "Quick, quick, quick, we can’t hold it much longer."

The more they urged, the more blank Ethan Young’s mind became. By the time all the candles were out, he still hadn’t thought of a wish.

The others cheered and waited to cut the cake.

Henry Howard rummaged through the bag for knives and forks, but after a couple of tries found only beer underneath: "Mr. Know-it-All, I told you to buy some snacks, why’d you get so much beer?"

Wanda wouldn’t admit he just wanted to drink: "Come on, man, this rooftop party vibe—"

Beer cans were tossed all over the rooftop.

When the wind blew, they’d roll a few circles along the ground.

While the others were busy drinking, Henry Howard casually asked, "What wish did you make just now?"

Ethan Young said, "I didn’t make one."

"Huh?"

Seeing he didn’t believe it, Ethan Young smiled and repeated, "I didn’t make a wish."

He didn’t make any wish, but it felt like anything could come true.

92. Chapter Ninety-Two

A group of people chatted about everything, and after drinking too much, their mouths had no filter. The topic shifted from online games to their secret crushes.

That’s just how it is with guys.

But these trivial worries, in this world that hasn’t yet been stretched out by time and isn’t very vast, seem to carry a lot of weight.

"The first time I saw her, she was coming out of the teachers’ office with a book in her arms, head down, almost bumped into me. Nothing special, but when she looked up and smiled at me—damn, I still remember it now."

The rooftop was simple, chairs were too much trouble to bring up, so they just spread out a few newspapers on the ground, weighing down the corners with beer bottles.

Ethan Young sat by the iron door, leaning back slightly so he could rest against it. He reached into a plastic bag for a can of beer, popped the tab with his finger, and took a few gulps while listening.

The beer slid down his throat. Cold.

When Ethan Young casually set the can down beside him, his palm landed right on top of Henry Howard’s hand.

Wanda also had someone in his heart. He’d had a bit too much to drink this time, and was influenced by the others, so he said a couple of things: "Yeah, I don’t even dare tell her I like her."

Wanda was usually the biggest gossip, couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, but he’d kept that girl from the next class hidden in his heart for so long.

Hearing this, Ethan Young turned to glance at Henry Howard: "You’re pretty gutsy. What were you thinking back then, weren’t you afraid?"

Henry Howard knew he was talking about the day he confessed.

He didn’t say anything, just quietly turned his hand over, palm up, and slipped his five fingers between Ethan Young’s, locking their hands together.

Then Henry Howard said, "Of course I was scared."

Of course.

All those cautious feelings, uncontrollable thoughts. Wanting to get closer but not daring to say it out loud.

But afterward, he was glad he’d had the guts to take that step.

Even more glad that the person beside him had also walked toward him without any hesitation.

Wanda and the others kept talking about their tragic crush stories.

The light around them was too dim, so no one noticed their little movements.

Two or three cans rolled around on the ground, finally hitting the iron door by Ethan Young. He reached out, grabbed a can, crushed it, and tossed it into the trash bag. Afterward, he remembered what Henry Howard had said about prying the door.

The top floor door of the dorm was always locked, to prevent students from getting into trouble. Besides the lock, there was a sign on the door, handwritten by Mad Dog, with four big characters: "Strictly No Entry."

"What did you use to pry it open?"

Henry Howard would never admit he’d looked up a bunch of lock-picking tutorials online, but he really had no talent for it, struggled with the lock for days, and pretended to be casual: "Used my brain, just popped it open, no big deal."

""

Ethan Young thought, yeah right.

It was almost midnight.

Ethan Young finished two cans, glanced down at his phone a few times, busy replying to WeChat messages.