Evan and Hannah talked and laughed all the way home.
At a red light, Hannah suddenly realized her mood had loosened. Being around a young man like Evan made the world feel less tangled somehow. For weeks she had been crushed under that ridiculous baby arrangement, walking around with her brows pulled tight and her temper ready to snap. Now, for the first time in a while, she felt light enough to breathe.
Back home, Hannah kicked off her heels at the door. Her long legs, still wrapped in nude stockings, slid straight into slippers. Then she dropped onto the sofa with a lazy sigh, the cushion bouncing under her so her legs lifted slightly with it.
For one careless second, the hem of her skirt shifted. Evan's eyes caught more than they should have. His heart jumped hard. He immediately pretended he had seen nothing, swallowed, and hurried back to his room like a man escaping a crime scene.
After putting away the supplies he had received from school, he heard Hannah moving in the living room. She had rested for only a couple of minutes before rising, stretching with both arms over her head, and going to her bedroom. A little later, she came out with a thin, close-fitting nightdress and went into the bathroom.
She stayed in there for more than half an hour.
When Hannah finally came out, she had not bothered drying her hair. The damp length was twisted loosely behind her head, and the whole look made her seem soft, casual, dangerously domestic.
Evan heard the bathroom door open just as he came out holding fresh clothes. After a stomach full of hotpot lamb, he smelled like a sheep had personally filed a complaint against him. He needed a shower.
They passed each other in the living room.
Evan could not stop his eyes from flicking sideways. The silk nightdress on Hannah was a public safety hazard. It did not reveal anything directly, but the way the fabric clung and shifted gave a man's imagination far too much work to do. Sometimes seeing almost nothing was worse than seeing too much.
By the time Evan finished showering, he had pulled on a white sleeveless undershirt and loose shorts. He sat honestly in the single armchair beside the sofa and watched television like a model citizen.
Hannah was sitting nearby, head lowered, clipping her toenails. Then she glanced up and paused.
At the place where Evan's neck met his collarbone, several red marks stood out clearly.
"Evan, what happened to you?"
"Got yourself a girlfriend already?"
"How many days have you been in Harbor City? You're moving fast."
Evan froze. He followed her gaze downward and saw the marks.
Damn it.
Those were not mosquito bites. Those were the marks Hannah herself had left two nights ago when she got drunk, mistook him for Rowan, and went wild on him.
Judging by her expression, she remembered absolutely nothing.
Evan hurriedly waved both hands. "No, no. Nothing like that."
"There were mosquitoes last night. It itched. I scratched too hard."
Hannah clearly did not believe him. She put down the nail clipper and shifted closer with a smile that made Evan's back tighten.
She bumped him lightly with her elbow.
It was casual. Unintentional.
It nearly killed him.
Hannah had always been blessed with dangerous advantages, and when she leaned close like that, even a saint would have needed backup.
"Tell me the truth," she teased. "Did you fall in love already? Where did you meet the girl? Online? Some chat room?"
Evan shook his head so quickly it nearly blurred.
"I swear I didn't, Hannah. Why would I lie? They really are mosquito bites."
Hannah leaned closer and studied the marks. Then she raised a pale finger and touched one gently.
"Brat, you're still lying. These are obviously kiss marks."
"And dark ones too. Whoever did it worked hard."
Evan's whole body went hot. He had no idea how to keep lying.
"I swear," he said, voice tense. "I don't have a girlfriend. I didn't kiss any girl."
Seeing him get genuinely anxious, Hannah finally snorted.
"Fine. I suppose you wouldn't dare."
"Since you're here to study, study properly. Don't spend your days chasing messy trouble, understand?"
Evan nodded at once. "Yes. I understand."
After finishing her lecture, Hannah stood and went back to the master bedroom.
Evan watched her graceful figure disappear behind the door and let out a long breath.
Lucky. Very lucky.
She truly had forgotten that night. Otherwise he would not know how to face her.
At the same time, in the girls' dormitory at school, the fierce girl who had clashed with Evan twice already was having a problem of her own.
Her name was Wendy Yue. She came from the mountain side of the country, and her temper had all the patience of a lit firecracker.
That night, she got into an argument with the girl sleeping in the bunk above her.
The girl on the top bunk was Fiona Fong, a local Harbor City student. Most of the room was local, in fact. More than half the girls came from nearby districts and had known one another long before school started.
"Are you blind?" Wendy snapped from the lower bunk. "Every time you climb up or down, you step on my bed."
"And you do it with your dirty slippers on. What's wrong with you?"
She had been holding back for a while. Fiona kept climbing up and down. Every time she used Wendy's lower bunk as a step, she refused to remove her slippers. The clean sheet Wendy had just laid out now had several dark marks on it.
Fiona jumped down from the upper bunk and pointed at Wendy's face.
"I didn't do it on purpose. Why are you acting crazy?"
Wendy fired back without fear. "Not on purpose? Twice in a row? You think I'm blind?"
At that moment, a strange, mocking voice came from the side.
"Girl, you're pretty bold, huh?"
"Do you know where you are?"
"This is Harbor City. Not your little hometown."
The speaker was Fiona's friend, another local girl with short hair and glasses. Her square face and smug tone made her look as if she had been born to report people and enjoy it.
With Square-Face backing her up, Fiona became even more arrogant. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin.
The truth was simple. Fiona was picking a fight on purpose.
It was the first day. She wanted to set rules in the dorm. There were sixteen girls in that room, and six were local students from the same county area. They had already formed a little circle.
In those years, the line between local and outsider was drawn hard. Students from different regions naturally gathered together for protection. If you joined one of those circles, you got shelter, but when trouble came, you also had to stand up for the group.
That was how plenty of ordinary kids slowly got dragged into useless messes.
Wendy stared coldly at Square-Face and ignored her.
She knew the other side had numbers. If a fight broke out in the room, she would be at a disadvantage. So she slapped the dirty sheet a few times, lay down, and said nothing.
Fiona mistook that silence for fear. Her arrogance grew.
She lifted one foot, dirty slipper and all, and stamped it hard onto Wendy's bed in front of everyone.
Then she pointed around the room at the watching girls.
"Remember this."
"This is Harbor City."
"Don't come here acting like you don't know the rules."
"From now on, locals decide what happens in this room."
"I'm the boss here. Anyone got a problem?"
She lowered her head and stared straight at Wendy.
"I'm asking you. You got a problem?"
Anyone who thought girls only pulled hair and shouted had never seen how cruel they could get when pride was involved.
Wendy's anger finally beat her reason.
"I got a problem with your mother."
She sat up in one sharp motion and slapped Fiona across the face with everything she had.
Author's Note:
This story will continue updating here.
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Thank you for reading.