"Not really, I still have no idea who this so-and-so is. Charles Webb just sent a photo once, a blurry shot of someone’s back, but it had a super cool vibe."

Ethan Turner was half-convinced, after all, Emily Carter could really cook better than the cafeteria ladies. "Alright, stop exaggerating, the freshmen are about to run out of food."

"Believe it or not," Emily Carter parted her hair and changed the subject, "By the way, you said you ran into a woman this afternoon whose voice sounded exactly like your mom’s?"

Ethan Turner finally put down her phone. "Yeah, do you think it’s really possible for two people in this world to sound so alike?"

Besides, her habits and catchphrases were exactly the same as Grace Hill’s.

"Where did you run into her?"

Strange, that cold, sharp, and slightly mocking voice echoed in Ethan Turner’s mind again.

—"Standing there getting scolded is so tiring."

—"Didn’t you see her just now, staring at my lower half?"

……

Ethan Turner absentmindedly scrolled on her phone and said, "Downstairs at the place David Hayes rents."

"You went to see him?" Emily Carter was exasperated. "And you say you don’t like him? I think you’ve been PUA’d by him."

"I went to get my mom’s necklace, okay? Last time you invited us to watch the meteor shower, he didn’t care about the meteors, he liked my necklace. Thought the four-leaf clover was lucky, so he took it to the exam."

The more Ethan Turner thought about it, the more she felt she and David Hayes could only be friends. Even though they’d never defined their relationship, David Hayes acted like she had to stick with him.

Emily Carter had heard a bit about Grace Hill since childhood. In all the demonized versions, Ms. Grace Hill seemed like a symbol of misfortune—anything related to her was best avoided, and it was better not to get too close to Ethan Turner’s family. Otherwise, how else could Old Turner have developed such severe social anxiety over the years?

**

At the end of Yifeng Alley, there was a small shop called "8090." Inside was a dusty pool table that almost no one played on. The seniors in the review building didn’t even have time to buy a bottle of water, let alone play pool.

The two of them dawdled through a few games. Brian Brooks stayed silent, not taking it seriously, mostly just leaning against the pool table. "Lose one, win one"—he kept bickering endlessly, all the while giving Henry Clark that "Don’t you have something to say to me?" look, torturing him with indifference.

He really knew how to get under someone’s skin.

Damn.

"Bang—"

A nervous Henry Clark scratched again, sinking the cue ball. Brian Brooks leaned against the table, looking bored, jerked his chin for him to fetch the ball, still refusing to speak.

Henry Clark fished out the ball, grinning obsequiously as he set up an easy shot for him, deciding to confess: "Olivia Lane kept cornering me. She said people online are digging up dirt on her and wants your help, otherwise she won’t be able to be an actress anymore. But you never accept her WeChat. I panicked and gave her your address."

Young master Brooks was unmoved, put the ball back on the break line, bent down to aim, and said emotionlessly, "Yeah, did it ever occur to you that because of her, I might never get a girlfriend?"

"Is it that serious?" Henry Clark was stunned, then realized, "So that alt account people found online was really hers? The love diary was fake? Or did you really say you only like girls with big boobs and no brains?"

Brian Brooks shot Henry Clark a glance, snorted, and grabbed the chalk by the table. "Every time I go to your class to find you, have I ever said a word to her?"

Henry Clark had lost interest in playing, pulled out his phone and scrolled, only to find all the love diary posts had been deleted, Olivia Lane’s alt account was gone, and searching for Brian Brooks on social media turned up nothing. Not long ago, there was even a trending tag that made Henry Clark’s head throb: Olivia Lane’s boyfriend Brian Brooks says Olivia Lane is wild.

"So she lied about dating you?"

No way, Olivia Lane was fantasizing about Brian Brooks? Henry Clark felt his goddess image shatter. Olivia Lane always seemed like a cold beauty.

Henry Clark stammered, "Then what… what did she say to you?"

What else could she say? If Olivia Lane hadn’t barged in so recklessly, Brian Brooks wouldn’t have known anything. He was halfway through a shower when he heard a knock, thought it was his coffee delivery, didn’t even have time to put on underwear, just threw on some pants and opened the door—only to see Olivia Lane. Olivia Lane had trended several times, the most famous among the art exam students at No.1 High, more popular than some D-list celebrities. It’d be a stretch for Brian Brooks to claim he didn’t recognize her, especially since she was in the same class as Henry Clark.

But he’d just showered, his brain was slow to react, and before he could say anything, Olivia Lane started crying, tears streaming down her face, looking utterly aggrieved. So Brian Brooks had no choice but to pull out his phone and look up the gossip about himself. After checking, he tossed his phone on the coffee table and asked Olivia Lane what she wanted. Olivia Lane sobbed and asked if he’d be her boyfriend. Brian Brooks flatly refused. Olivia Lane seemed surprised by his rejection and, still unwilling to give up, asked, "Do you have someone you like?"