Reassembling the stage props we’d used before wasn’t too hard. A few of us hauled the pre-built wooden frame boxes from backstage, stacked them securely on the platform, and slowly unrolled the red carpet over them.
The four of us each grabbed a corner of the massive carpet, inching it into place until I was slightly out of breath.
*What’s going on?* I wondered, sinking onto a nearby chair for a quick rest. *Is my strength turning girlish too?* The boys paused their work, waiting for my cue.
“Hold on a moment,” I said, standing up. “Wait for the team bringing the speakers and lights. The advisor will be here soon—follow her instructions for setup.”
Our advisor was the school’s young art teacher. Though we kids handled most tasks ourselves, her expertise was essential for the professional touches.
I headed out the school gate. Classes were in session, but my temporary pass let me slip through freely. I needed to pick up custom banners and backdrops from the print shop.
At the gatehouse, the guard glanced over. “Something wrong?”
“Forgot something,” I waved off, hurrying back to the stage. The boys were idly sipping water and munching bread while waiting.
“I need a volunteer!” I called. “Someone strong—come help me carry stuff.”
*Idiot.* Even before my strength faded, I could never haul those heavy rolls alone. What made me think I could solo this?
“I’ll go.”
A familiar guy from a neighboring class joined me. The walk wasn’t far, and chatting kept it light. When we returned, arms full of bundled fabric, the stage was already bustling with activity. I approached the teacher.
“Teacher Fan, we’ve got the banners and backdrops.”
She didn’t teach my class, but everyone said she was kind—and these past days proved it. She’d have done everything herself if we hadn’t insisted on handling tasks.
“Good work, Xiao Luo. Just set them down. I’ll take over setup now.”
*She’s stripping my command again,* I thought, like Mom blocking me from washing dishes. “No, Teacher, we can manage!”
“I don’t mean that,” she smiled, patting my shoulder. “I have something more important for you.”
*Huh?* More urgent than tonight’s festival? I tilted my head—then caught myself. *Too girlish.* Straightening up, I cleared my throat. “What is it?”
“Relax,” she chuckled at my fidgeting. “It’s a good assignment.”
…
My mood turned complicated.
Turns out this “urgent task” was greeting Lanying’s early-arriving delegation. Teacher Fan didn’t spell it out, but we both knew: hosting them mattered more to the school than the festival itself. She even handed me cash from the finance department for “activity funds.”
“Keep the receipts for reimbursement.”
But I felt no enthusiasm. Why did the school care more about these *guests* than the event they’d come to see?
Memories from my last trip to Lanying flooded back—waves of inadequacy and gloom. Facing them felt like confronting a flood of beasts.
*I just want to sweat it out on stage with everyone…*
Unconsciously, I bit my finger, lost in thought. Only when saliva dampened my skin did I snap back. *Such a girlish habit!* I yanked my hand away, wanting to collapse into a gray puddle on the floor.
*Heaven above! Just end me now!*
For the first time since yesterday, I thought: *If I’m changing this slowly—from heart to body—why not just become a girl already?*
