When she woke, the sun, once blindingly bright, had mellowed to a rich orange, saturating the horizon. The late afternoon light streamed across the desks in the classroom. Alone, she gazed out the window, the distant cheers from the sports field only amplifying her sense of isolation.

A familiar ache settled in her chest. The thought of returning to an empty, quiet house tightened her fingers, pressing crescent moons into her palms. The bustle of school was a fleeting illusion. Once the sun set, she’d be back in her dark cave, eating, reading, sleeping—alone.

Lost in thought, she was startled by a knock at the back of the classroom. Turning, she saw Chen Yuyue. Dressed in athletic wear, a headband holding back her ponytail, Chen Yuyue looked energetic and vibrant. She held a half-finished cup of milk tea.

“I didn’t see you this afternoon,” Chen Yuyue began, catching Xia Yao’s eye. “I asked your classmates and they said you were probably here. Can we talk?”

Xia Yao nodded.

Chen Yuyue walked over, spun a chair around, and sat facing Xia Yao. Her gaze was direct, unwavering. “You’re dating Zhou Ye, aren’t you?” she asked, cutting straight to the point.

“I…” Xia Yao started.

Before she could answer, Chen Yuyue continued, “I’ve known Zhou Ye for a long time. We’ve been classmates since middle school. I came to this school because he’s here.”

Xia Yao looked at Chen Yuyue. Her dark eyes were devoid of emotion, as if simply stating facts, coldly trying to push her away. The lack of emotion made it difficult to know how to respond. She’d seen that same look in her stepmother’s eyes.

“Zhou Ye’s family is wealthy. His parents have high standards. Especially for girls from single-parent families like you. You usually have some psychological issues. It’s best if you break up with him yourself.” Chen Yuyue’s gaze was firm, assertive, unwavering.

It reminded Xia Yao of the girls who had cornered her after school earlier that year. Years of being bullied had hardened her. As a child, when other kids snatched her doll, she’d fight back. But as she grew older, she realized no one would stand up for her, no one cared what she thought. So she learned to be silent.

Words failed her. Her vision blurred, her eyes stinging.

Chen Yuyue frowned. “I didn’t yell at you, I didn’t hit you. Why are you crying? Can you please not use the tricks you use on boys with me?”

Xia Yao looked down, avoiding her gaze. As if unable to bear it any longer, Chen Yuyue pushed back her chair and stormed out. But her footsteps stopped just outside the door. Xia Yao overheard a boy’s voice from the hallway.

“When did my business become yours to manage?”

A moment later, Chen Yuyue’s voice, now trembling, unlike her earlier confidence, replied, “I’m just telling the truth, Zhou Ye. Can’t you see she just likes to play the victim in front of boys? How could you like someone like her? What’s so good about her?”

Zhou Ye looked down at her, his expression unchanged, but his eyes held a chilling indifference. “I try not to be cruel, but the fact that you’re here saying these things to her tells me I wasn’t clear enough last time. You say she’s not good enough for me? Do you think you are?”

Chen Yuyue’s face twitched. Tears welled up, and she pushed past him, running away.

Zhou Ye stood there for a moment, then, without looking back, walked into the classroom, a cup of milk tea in his hand. He set it on Xia Yao’s desk. He noticed the redness around her eyes, her damp lashes, though the tears on her cheeks had been wiped away. He rarely saw her cry. The last time was when he'd pushed her too far in bed.

“Don’t listen to her,” he said.

Xia Yao twisted her fingers in her shirt hem as she felt his fingers gently brush against the corners of her eyes, wiping away the lingering tears. He peeled back the lower half of the straw’s wrapper, inserted the straw into the milk tea, then removed the upper wrapper, placing the clean straw to her lips.

“Drink,” he said.

Looking at his profile bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, Xia Yao felt a pang of sadness. She lowered her head and took a slow sip. The breeze from the open window was warm, carrying the evening’s coolness. The view outside resembled a vibrant watercolor painting, both refreshing and comforting.

Lowering her eyes, she whispered, “Zhou Ye, how long will you stay with me?”

“…We’re still in high school. Sooner or later, we’ll have to go our separate ways.” His voice was steady and gentle, acknowledging the sadness in her eyes. “Don’t be afraid. If there are problems, I won’t let you face them alone. And I’ll never back down in front of you. I promise you that.”

She looked into his eyes, finding no trace of doubt or fear. He had always been certain about his future, never boasting about it, but always meticulously planning and executing his next steps.

Xia Yao leaned in, and under the soft light of the setting sun, she couldn't resist gently brushing her lips against his.

She couldn’t bring herself to ask any more questions. Chen Yuyue was right. Girls from single-parent families rarely received unconditional love. She knew she had to do something for others to earn even a sliver of acceptance. People like her inevitably developed certain insecurities. She couldn’t be as confident and optimistic as him about the future. She couldn’t even believe that his love for her was unconditional.

She truly was a coward.