“Teacher, I’m quitting!” Joanna’s voice snapped like a flag in the wind. She took two quick steps back and slid to the blonde girl’s side, like a bird returning to its perch. “Since you’re so keen to contribute to the class, don’t waste a golden chance,” she said, pointing at the chattering girls like a spear aimed at a flock.
“Mm… makes sense.” The PE teacher frowned at the noisy crowd like a man swatting flies. “An Xinru, Li Lian, you two will fill the sprint slots.” His words fell like a gavel. The two were the slightly pretty one and the girl laughing the loudest.
“Huh? Why, teacher? It was clearly them—”
“Because if you don’t run, your PE grade this term is an E. How about that?” The teacher raised an eyebrow like a drawn bow. Applause rustled through the class like wind through leaves. Little Loli’s lips lifted, a thin crescent like a sliver of moon. “Teachers like this are rare as winter sun,” she breathed, eyes glinting like frost.
“Next, let’s see what else we’re short on… Right, girls’ high jump is missing two.” The words dropped like chalk on slate.
“Teacher, we’ll take those two,” Joanna said, fingers lacing with Little Loli’s like ivy twining a branch. “Nana, you—” The blonde started to protest, but Joanna leaned close, her whisper a warm breeze at the ear. “He stuck his neck out. Let’s do him proud.”
“…Fine.” The answer came slow, like a leaf settling on water. Jumping wouldn’t make anything… weird show, Little Loli thought, then nodded.
“It’s settled. You two stay after school. I’ll run a separate session,” the PE teacher said, nodding with the calm of a steady metronome. Class rolled on like a river smoothing stones.
Dusk came in a blink, the sky bleeding peach like spilled wine. “Wh-why do I have to wear this?” Little Loli’s shout was pink with embarrassment, like cheeks after a sprint. “I didn’t even complain. What are you shy about? It’s for movement,” Joanna said, voice light as a skipping stone.
Little Loli tumbled to the doorway under Joanna’s gentle push, like a kitten set on a sill. The blonde wore a thin red tee up top and tight white training shorts below, small as boyshorts, her pale arms and legs bright as porcelain under the fading light. Her long gold hair was tied with a band into a slim ponytail, a ribbon of sunlight caught and drawn thin. She didn’t like single ponytails; such a simple knot felt like wasting silk.
Fresh in the open, she glanced around, pupils flicking like minnows. Most students had already washed away like tidewater; the track lay empty as a dry field. “Whew, close,” she sighed, patting her budding chest like smoothing a wrinkle.
“Come on, the high-jump pit’s waiting. The teacher too,” Joanna called from behind, the same outfit turning on her into a spark, energy crackling like a live wire.
“Mom, I’m staying late for high-jump practice. I might be back late… I know, I’ll be careful. Bye!” Her voice flowed through the phone like a brook, and in that small stream of time, the two reached the pit.
Seeing two pretty girls arriving right on time, the PE teacher smiled, a lantern warming to life. “No more fluff. The straddle high jump links four parts—approach, takeoff, flight over the bar, and landing—tight as chain links…”
“Wait, teacher!” Little Loli cut in, her words a pebble skipping the surface. “What’s the best girls’ height right now?”
“For middle school? About one point four meters,” he said, thinking with a hand to his chin like weighing a stone.
I guess one point three is fine, she thought, thoughts stacking like tiles. Joanna, meanwhile, bolted forward in a blur, feet drumming like rain. She curved and rose, a swallow tracing an arc, and cleared a bar about one point eight meters away like moonlight skimming a roofline.
“Hey! Nana, calm down!” A cross throbbed on Little Loli’s forehead like an ink stamp. “Sorry, sorry, I won’t do that again,” Joanna laughed, sticking out her tongue like a mischievous fox.
The PE teacher stood dumbstruck, his jaw dropping like a loose hinge.
“Let me try.” Little Loli set the bar to around one point three five. She backed up, breath steady like a drum. She sped up, wind in her hair like a banner. She took off, toes a spring, and floated over the bar like a leaf riding a current. “Perfect.” She landed and rose, smoothing her clothes like pressing a page.
“One point three five is a very solid mark,” the teacher said, relief washing him like warm tea. Finally, a normal person, he thought, blissful in his ignorance like a man under a kindly fog. “Nothing more to teach today. I’ll wait for your performance next week. Head home early.” He waved and vanished into the corridor, the hall swallowing him like shadow.
“Xiaoxue, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?” The two walked back to class, footsteps soft as moth wings. “I’m not that good at high jump…” Little Loli said, undoing the band behind her head. Her golden hair spilled down like a waterfall, rippling in the sunset breeze like wheat.
“This style suits you best,” Joanna said, praise bright as a bell. “I still prefer twin tails,” Little Loli answered, smiling sweet as fruit.
They grabbed their things and went their separate ways. In the stairwell, a shadow darted out like a fish from reeds. “Who?” Little Loli slipped a step back, crisp as a drawn blade, her eyes faintly red like banked embers.
“Sorry, Xiao Qianxue.” A girl with braided pigtails and glasses stood there, small as a sparrow. “And you are?” Seeing no malice, Little Loli let her guard drop like a lowered visor.
“I’m Wang Yan, from our class. Could you… maybe… tutor me?” The words came out in pieces, squeezed like water from a sponge, nerves fluttering like a trapped moth.
“Eh?” Little Loli blinked, caught by this plain-faced girl like a deer in headlight glow. “Why not ask the class rep? She’s top of the class.”
“The rep’s always busy. She rushes out after school, like a train on schedule—probably family stuff.”
“What about Joanna? She ranked higher than me last time.” Curiosity flickered like a match.
“Joanna… she only talks to you. I don’t think that’ll work,” Wang Yan said, fingers worrying her skirt hem like kneading dough. “Even though Xiao Qianxue looks like she doesn’t care about anything, I can tell. With such a cute face, she must be kind.”
Being called kind sent a ten-thousand-horse stampede through Xiao Qianxue’s head, hooves drumming like thunder. I really don’t care about anything… she thought, the words a stone she couldn’t throw.
“Please!” The girl bowed deep, spine a bent willow.
“Since you’ve said so, let’s try tomorrow first,” Little Loli said, interest lighting her eyes like stars through cloud.
“So you agree?”
“Mhm.”
