Hunter stood frozen in the middle of the courtyard, as motionless as a marble statue in a fountain. Only when Jiyu opened the door to the apartment did he finally snap out of his daze and take a step forward.
“Jiyu—”
She spun around on impulse and cut him off, her face mottled with angry red patches.
“Get better, Hunter. Don’t blame your jinx, and don’t blame me.”
It was only after she returned home that she realized Hunter had called her by her real name for the first time.
***
The cold war lasted longer than expected. They continued attending math tutoring together, yet throughout the entire winter term of sixth grade, neither of them spoke a single word to the other. They simply pretended the other did not exist.
The spring term marked the beginning of the full-fledged tennis season, and Hunter frequently skipped school to compete in tournaments.
Jiyu heard from her mother that Hunter, who had been trapped in a slump for more than six months without achieving any notable results, had thrown a fit and smashed his racket at his latest tournament. She responded with a faintly spiteful scoff.
In mid-June, as soon as summer vacation began, Hunter left for a two-month training camp at a prestigious tennis academy in the south of France. He returned to New York in mid-August, spent the rest of the summer at his family’s villa in the Hamptons, and came back to the Hamilton residence immediately after Labor Day weekend.
The moment he returned, Hunter summoned Jiyu to the treehouse.
‘How ridiculous. I’m not some puppy who’ll come running just because he calls.’
Jiyu ignored his text. Still, as with most childhood quarrels, spending the entire summer apart had softened the vivid anger and hurt between them. Beneath the fierce summer sun, those emotions had faded and withered, if only a little.
‘What does he want now?’
As the appointed time drew nearer, Jiyu grew increasingly restless. In the end, unable to resist the curiosity stirred by the volatile impulses of puberty—impulses that sent her mood swinging wildly several times a day—she flung the book she had been reading onto her bed.
She opened her closet to change, only for her pride to smart at the thought. Instead, she decided to go exactly as she was, wearing shorts and a tank top, and arrived in the courtyard ten minutes late. If Hunter complained about her tardiness, she planned to turn around and leave on the spot.
Hunter was not inside the treehouse. He was leaning against one of its support pillars, waiting for her.
He was dressed in workout clothes, evidently planning to practice afterward. His already tall frame seemed to have grown even more over the summer. He would soon be over six feet tall. His skin had been tanned a deep golden brown, like the sunlight of southern France itself.
“Hey.”
Hunter pushed himself away from the pillar. His eyes swept over her from head to toe with an unfamiliar intensity.
“……”
Jiyu stopped several steps away, her expression cold as she deliberately avoided his gaze.
Hunter strode toward her on his long legs, abruptly thrust something out, then raised a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat with visible awkwardness.
“Ahem. Uh… sorry.”
It was the first time in seven years—since their second playdate—that Hunter had raised the white flag and offered reconciliation. And just as he had back then, he held out a book instead of an olive branch.
Jiyu accepted it without thinking and looked down. She nearly fainted from shock.
Hunter had clearly wrapped it himself. The crooked ribbon and the worn cover peeking out beneath the paper made that obvious.
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
It was her favorite science-fiction novel of all time. Hunter knew that.
Unable to restrain herself, she untied the ribbon, carefully opened the cover, and turned the yellowed pages.
First edition, 1979.
It even bore the handwritten signature of Douglas Adams, the author who had died in 2001.
Jiyu gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. Then, with great care, she closed the book and hugged it to her chest.
When she raised her head, Hunter was looking down at her with one corner of his mouth slightly lifted. A moment later, he turned his face aside and awkwardly cleared his throat again.
This was obviously a bribe. She knew accepting it would come at a price.
But it was an apology gift she could not possibly refuse.
“…Thank you, Hunter.”
Just before the start of seventh grade, the two of them made peace.
And Jiyu reclaimed her position as Hunter’s winning “jinx.”
That very weekend, Hunter staged a spectacular comeback and claimed the championship trophy at the under-14 L1 tournament in Chicago.
It was the spring term of seventh grade, and April was unusually warm compared to previous years.
New York winters were tenacious, often lingering long enough to bring snow even in mid-April. True, radiant spring usually appeared shyly in May, only to surrender almost at once to the scorching heat of summer.
Perhaps because spring had arrived early that year, rain fell frequently in place of snow.
Three times a week, the final period of the day was PE. Today, however, all outdoor team and individual sports had been canceled because of the rain.
On days like this, indoor classes were held at the sports center shared by Aster School and Alton School.
Inside the large gymnasium, seventh graders from both schools sat in rows on the glossy wooden floor. Each grade had only fifty or sixty students, so even with both schools combined, there were barely one hundred and twenty of them.
The humid air driven indoors by the rain mingled oppressively with the sweaty odor of pubescent boys and the cloyingly sweet perfume worn by the girls. Strangely enough, each smell was more unpleasant on its own. Blended together, however, they seemed to neutralize one another and became almost tolerable.
Jiyu arrived slightly late after staying behind following history class to discuss the topic of her capstone project on ancient civilizations with her teacher.
She opened the heavy soundproof door and hesitated.
Students from Aster and Alton had been mixed together at random, perhaps seated on a first-come, first-served basis. On rainy days, they usually did strength training or played simple team games in the gym, but today appeared to be reserved for a special lesson.
Jiyu spotted the back of Chloe’s head in the second row and felt a flicker of regret. She decided she would quietly slip into the seat beside her later, once no one was paying attention.
Moving unnoticed like a ghost was one of Jiyu’s specialties. It was a survival skill her introverted nature had perfected in the merciless jungle of Upper East Side private schools.
She rose onto her toes, suppressing even the squeak of her sneakers against the slick, polished floor, and took a seat at the very end of the row.
Fortunately, no one paid her any attention. Only the boy beside her glanced over before turning his gaze forward again.
A moment later, the health teachers from both schools, Ms. Shapiro and Mr. Hawkins, began the lesson with a model of the human body positioned in the center of the gym.
“Today, for the second session of ‘Safety & Survival,’ we’ll be learning about vital signs—specifically, how to check the body’s responses in an emergency.”
During the previous winter term, on a day when snow had been falling heavily, a PE teacher certified as a lifeguard had delivered a lecture on first aid and CPR in place of regular gym class.
Suddenly, the door slammed shut with a bang.
Then came the sharp squeak, squeak of careless footsteps as someone late strode into the gym without the slightest hesitation.
Jiyu went rigid.
At the mere sound of those footsteps, her shoulders rose and the fine hairs along her arms stood on end.
‘It’s Hunter.’
It was an instinctive reaction she could not explain.
Every student turned toward the door at once, but Jiyu did not even move her head.
“Hamilton, sit at the end over there.”
Mr. Duncan, Alton School’s PE teacher, rose and pointed to the empty spot beside Jiyu.
Hunter crossed the remaining distance with another series of squeaks and dropped heavily onto the floor.
“Hi, Hunter!”
Sienna greeted him in a lowered voice, though everyone heard her.
“What’s up, Triple?”
A boy sitting in front of them turned around and held out his fist. Hunter bumped it lightly with his own.
“Yo, Hamilton.”
The scattered greetings from around the gym gradually died away, and Ms. Shapiro resumed the lesson.
Only then did Jiyu steal a sideways glance at Hunter.
At almost the same moment, his eyes flicked toward her from the corner.
When their gazes met, he gave the faintest nod of acknowledgment and lifted his eyebrows slightly. Jiyu, caught off guard, answered with a subtle flutter of her eyelids.
As she turned her eyes back toward the front, she accidentally met Sienna’s gaze.
Sienna was sitting in the second row, unfortunately right beside Chloe. Her head was half-turned toward where Hunter and Jiyu sat, and the expression on her face was anything but casual.
Suspicion.
And denial.
Jiyu swallowed hard and lowered her gaze.
Making an enemy of Sienna while attending Aster School was absolutely out of the question.