Screee—rubber soles screamed against the hardwood like sparks skidding over bark.

A long ponytail snapped in the air like a banner in wind; a loose white tracksuit billowed like a sail, flashing a sunlit strip of midriff. The girl rose above the crowd like a swan cresting a wave. Her waist uncoiled, her arm lifted; she bloomed midair, a flower opening at dawn. The ball spun in her palm, then hissed off her fingertips like an arrow loosed toward a far hoop, its arc a clean rainbow.

“Three!”

“It’s in!”

“Nice!”

“Suzhiaoyao’s insane!”

She landed light as a falling leaf. She wiped the dew of sweat from her brow, a faint smile breaking like sunrise. Twin blushes bloomed on her cool face like peach petals, and the girls below shrieked like a flock of sparrows taking off.

Her chest rose and fell like a tide, and the boys on the sideline stared as if the moon had just lifted over dark water.

“Based on amplitude and frequency—by my observation—” On the second-floor bleachers, a lanky boy pushed up black frames with his middle finger, pen scratching patterns like constellations across a notebook. His face was grave. “It’s definitely bigger. C? Or C-plus?”

Pfft—water almost sprayed from Yexiaobai’s mouth like a burst fountain.

The stranger turned, his expression twisting like a hairline crack in glass. “Yexiaobai?”

“Uh, that’s me. And you are?” Yexiaobai rifled his memory like turning a dusty drawer. Nothing.

“I’m Li Hang, Grade Three, Class Two. They call me Captain.” He introduced himself with the ease of a pilot charting a familiar sea. “You might not know me. I know you.”

“I don’t remember being famous.”

“Of course. You aren’t.” He nodded, flat as a judge’s gavel. “The famous ones are the girls beside you—Mu Xiaowei and Zhaomingming—ranked sixth and ninth on the school beauty list.”

There were too many holes to plug; Yexiaobai didn’t know where to start bailing.

“Forget whether they’re famous or ‘beauties.’ What even is that ranking?”

“Tsk.” Impatience flickered across Li Hang’s face like a gnat over still water. “Unforgivable.”

Yexiaobai blinked. Li Hang seemed to think of something. He leaned in like a hawk stooping on prey. “Wanna trade intel?”

“What…intel?”

“You want Suzhiayao intel, right?” His stare pinned Yexiaobai like a butterfly on cork.

“Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb. You squat here every PE class. This is the closest spot to Class One’s seats. If you’re not sneaking peeks at No. 2, Suzhiayao, I can’t think of another reason.” He pushed up his glasses again, excitement flaring like a match. “Trade me info on Mu Xiaowei and Zhaomingming. Then I’ll have two-thirds of the top ten.”

Yexiaobai stared, adrift, as if vines of some secret campus society were climbing up his ankles.

…

“Water.”

“Thanks.”

Damp bangs clung to flushed cheeks like inked silk. The girl took the bottle from her friend, cracked the cap, and drank with her head tipped back, a silver thread of water escaping her full lips and sliding along her cheek like moonlight on stone.

Suzhiaoyao drained half in one go, then lowered the bottle and found her friend staring, dazed, like a cat watching snowfall.

“What is it?” her voice was cool water over smooth pebbles.

“So, so sexy!” The girl with red frames and shoulder-length hair lit up like a festival lantern. “That athletic vibe plus ice-queen vibe? Chef’s kiss!”

“You’re saying strange things again.” Suzhiayao shook her head and sat beside her friend. “Xiaolu, not playing?”

“Me? I’m hopeless at sports.” The girl called Xiaolu shook her head, shy as a fawn. “I’m on the literature track.”

She wagged the thick notebook in her hand like a brick, eyes gleaming toward the boys’ court where the game had turned fierce, sweat flying like summer rain. A flush of excitement rose on her face like dawn. “I prefer watching other people—crash in passion.”

Suzhiaoyao glanced at the notebook and could only sigh. She had opened that black-covered thing once; she knew what grew inside.

Not melancholy poems for a maiden’s spring. More like forbidden smut that would get confiscated faster than a fire in dry grass.

Xiaolu suddenly remembered. “Oh, right. I figured out who that boy was.”

“That boy?” Suzhiayao tilted her head, a question drifting like a cloud.

“The one who peeks at our class every few days,” Xiaolu prompted. “He popped by again last night, remember?”

“He…” She tilted her head and swept hair from her ear; her phoenix eyes shimmered like ripples on a pond. She didn’t mean it, but a brush of sweetness in the air felt like an accidental spill of perfume; even Xiaolu’s heart thumped like a startled bird. “If you know, you know.”

“Hey? You’re not curious? Can’t you pretend for me?” Xiaolu pouted, leaning in like a nosy sparrow.

Suzhiayao gave a helpless smile. “Fine, fine. Student Yao Yuelu, please tell me who that boy is.”

Satisfied, Xiaolu beamed like sunshine breaking through clouds. “He’s Yexiaobai from Grade Three, Class Seven!”

“Yexiaobai—” Suzhiayao paused; something like a memory flickered in her pupils, a moth brushing a lantern. “It’s him…”

“Huh? You know Yexiaobai?” Xiaolu gaped. She knew her friend never chased gossip; in the honors class, Suzhiayao’s focus and will were steel. For the record, Xiaolu lived near the class’s bottom like a stone in the riverbed.

“Sort of.” Suzhiayao nodded. Xiaolu’s eyes kindled with gossip-fire, so she added quickly, “I’ve only heard the name.”

“Eh?” Xiaolu’s gaze sparkled like frost. She knew Suzhiayao hadn’t even memorized all their classmates’ names—she only kept what she cared about; everything else got tossed like redundant files at midnight.

If the name stuck, it wasn’t “just heard the name.” No way.

“Gossip, gossip!” She leaned closer until their breaths met like warm fog.

“You’re overthinking it, Xiaolu. We’re strangers.” Without a ripple, Suzhiayao nudged her friend’s face back, gentle as a drifting cloud. “I didn’t even recognize him last night, did I?”

“Uh.” Xiaolu replayed last night’s talk; Suzhiayao’s eyes had indeed looked at him like a stranger. Maybe she was the one building castles out of mist.

Xiaolu sighed, air leaving like a punctured balloon. “Man. I thought you’d finally opened up.”

“Opened up to what?”

“Love.” Xiaolu clasped her hands to her chest like a devotee before a shrine. “High school’s main quest is love! If you don’t fall in love, what’s the point? And you—Suzhiayao—you’re gorgeous, kind, top grades, killer body—wasting it is a crime against springtime!”

“What nonsense. If you want love, you go date.” Suzhiayao’s tone was dry as a fan in summer.

“Okay!” Xiaolu bounced up, stars popping in her eyes like fireworks. She flung her arms toward Suzhiayao. “Then let’s date each other!”

“What even— I’m sweaty. Back off.” Suzhiayao dodged, cheeks cooling like shade under bamboo.

“I don’t mind. You always smell good, like flowers!”

“I mind!”