Hopeless Romance (GL) - Chapter 35

Chapter 35

The pace of high school was vastly faster than middle school. Having just started tenth grade, Ye Du felt more exhausted than she ever had in her ninth-grade year. When she mentioned this to Chen Pupu, Pupu remarked that it was only because Ye Du hadn’t truly “battled” for the high school entrance exam, and thus hadn’t experienced a real ninth grade. Ye Du found herself unable to argue with that logic; it seemed perfectly sound.

The “warning shot” that Li Jiangang gave the class on the first day left a lasting impression on Ye Du.

This was the fourth “Base Class” Li Jiangang had led. His teaching style was nothing if not rigorous, a perfect reflection of his physical appearance: a buzz cut so short only the stubble was visible, a perpetually furrowed brow, and square-framed glasses. His back was always ramrod straight, every inch of him screaming “old-fashioned.” A significant portion of this class consisted of students who had received direct admission—the very type of student Li Jiangang disliked most. He felt they hadn’t endured the final months of struggle required for the entrance exam, and while he didn’t doubt their talent, he believed that people rarely cherish things that come too easily. He feared they might harbor a sense of unearned superiority.

Thus, he set the rules early, drawing from years of experience. “The Base Class has no room for dead weight,” he declared. “Beyond your coursework, you must handle competitions. If you can’t keep up, you’ll be weeded out. Since you chose this path, give it 120%, or by the time the National College Entrance Exam rolls around, you’ll end up at the school next door.” Ye Du actually thought “the school next door”—University A—was quite good, considering it was a top-twenty university in the country. She later learned from Pupu that almost every homeroom teacher at Yunchuan High School said the exact same thing.

Class 1 and Class 12 were separated by an entire floor. Lunch breaks were short, and the mountain of assignments from teachers was relentless. In the first two months of high school, Ye Du hadn’t found a single opportunity to have lunch with Pupu. Most days, she bought food at the canteen and ate while memorizing English vocabulary. Occasionally, classmates would invite her to join them; Ye Du usually stayed quiet, listening to their chatter. After a few times, she gained a decent grasp of class gossip, thinking she’d have something to contribute the next time Pupu asked.

Finally, taking advantage of a PE class during the last period of the morning, Ye Du checked the time and headed toward Class 12. Noticing the weather had turned chilly, she detoured back to her classroom to grab a scarf. Yunchuan had strict dress codes—uniforms had to be the outermost layer. Thick clothes made students look bloated, so many skipped layers for the sake of vanity. When Pupu emerged from the back door of her classroom, she was, predictably, only wearing a shirt and a sweater under her uniform jacket. Ye Du walked toward her, scarf in hand. Before she could close the distance, she saw Pupu surrounded by several classmates, all animatedly discussing lunch plans.

With Pupu’s personality, the fact that she had made many new friends didn’t surprise Ye Du. Many people in middle school had loved playing with her; she was so sincere and earnest that it was hard not to like her. In contrast, after two months, Ye Du had yet to find someone she could call a friend. It wasn’t that she was uniquely unpleasant, but rather that she held a strange reserve. She felt that a person’s emotional capacity was limited—that if you shared something once, saying it again to someone else diminished it. She wanted to save her thoughts for the one person she most wanted to tell.

The corridor was crowded, especially with the lunch rush. Ye Du was jostled by the throng and struggled to move. When she finally caught up to Pupu, the latter happened to turn around. Seeing Ye Du, Pupu waved enthusiastically. As Pupu reached out, Ye Du instinctively handed over the scarf. Pupu took it, but before she could speak, she was whisked away by Cui Tong, who was in a hurry to eat.

Ye Du considered chasing after them, but the walk from the playground had already drained her energy. She hadn’t made plans with Pupu in advance, and she felt it would be awkward to intrude on a group that had already decided on their meal. Ye Du’s hand remained suspended in the air for a moment. She clenched her fist, feeling a hollow ache. She couldn’t be like Pupu, sharing her heart with many people. Yet, she had no right to demand that Pupu value their bond as exclusively as she did, because she knew her own feelings weren’t purely platonic.

Still, seeing so many new faces around Pupu in this new environment hurt. She felt abandoned on the spot. Even if Pupu only saw her as a friend, Ye Du had always believed she was the most special friend. Today, she felt she could no longer say that with certainty. Ye Du was too stubborn; at that age, she didn’t yet understand that no single person can be everything to another. Everyone derives different things from different people: from Yu Xiao, Pupu got excitement; from Cui Tong, she got help adapting to a new environment; and from Ye Du, she got long-term companionship and comfort. Even if Ye Du were willing to give her all, she couldn’t fulfill every one of Pupu’s emotional needs. Or perhaps Ye Du knew she was limited, but where Pupu was concerned, she still hoped for an exception.

…

“Hey, when did you get that scarf?” Cui Tong asked halfway through her curry rice. The pure white yarn looked lovely.

“A friend gave it to me just now,” Pupu said, spearring a fish ball.

“When? We didn’t stop once on the way here,” Cao Yijing added, still scanning the kitchen for her braised pork rice.

“Right outside the classroom. I didn’t even have time to talk to her before Cui Tong dragged me off.” Pupu felt a flicker of worry that Ye Du might be upset, but she dismissed it; they had known each other for years, and she’d never seen Ye Du lose her temper.

“Your friend is nice, bringing you ‘warmth’ like that. Middle school classmate?” Cui Tong hadn’t earned her reputation as the “Gossip Queen” for nothing.

“Yeah. Her name is Ye Du. She’s in the Base Class.” Pupu spoke with pride; having such a brilliant friend made her feel a bit more brilliant by association.

“Hah, look at that proud little eyebrow raise. I thought you were the one in the Base Class,” Cui Tong joked, meticulously wiping the table.

“I’ve heard of her,” Cao Yijing said. “Her and someone named Shang-something. They won a competition and were scouted by High School No. 1 for early admission.”

“Cao Yijing, how do you know all the rumors?” Cui Tong asked, impressed.

“My dance classmate’s mom is an admissions officer at No. 1. I heard her talking about it.” Cao Yijing had been dancing since age four, moving from Chinese dance to ballet.

“The other one is Shang Ruixi. Also my middle school classmate,” Pupu added, sitting a bit taller.

“Pupu, I didn’t realize! How did you manage to sneak into that middle school class?” Cui Tong teased.

“I was actually pretty smart back then, okay?” Pupu replied. Thankfully Jiang Xinwan wasn’t there to mention how Ye Du had spent three years tutoring her in secret.

“So, if we have homework we can’t do, can we count on your friend?” In Class 12, where everyone was an arts or sports specialty student, Cao Yijing was worried about her academic scores. She wanted to be a professional dancer, but her parents wanted her to have a solid education.

“Their class is incredibly busy. They’re the last to leave every day. The homework is terrifying—I’d feel bad bothering her.” Pupu had planned to walk home with Ye Du after school, but on the first day, she had waited outside Class 1 for an hour and a half before Ye Du was dismissed.

“Tsk, tsk. Life isn’t easy for the top students,” Cui Tong said with a shiver.

“Are you cold? Want to borrow Pupu’s scarf?”

“No way. This ‘warmth’ was sent specifically to me,” Pupu said, wrapping the scarf around her neck before Cui Tong could even respond.

…

But that warmth was put on pause for a while. After that brief encounter, Pupu didn’t see Ye Du for a long time. She called twice, but Ye Sangshu answered both times, making Pupu so flustered she had to pretend she was calling to ask about a math theorem. They had agreed to walk home together every Friday when Ye Du didn’t have tutoring, but Ye Du had stood her up two weeks in a row. Pupu ended up taking the bus with Cui Tong instead.

Between vocal practice, homework, and joking around with Cui Tong and Cao Yijing, Pupu’s schedule was packed. She rarely thought of Ye Du—but “rarely” didn’t mean “never.” She would secretly curse Ye Du for flaking on her again. She told herself she wouldn’t be the one to reach out first, but then she felt that her accidental coldness on that first day was her own fault. Besides, she knew better than to expect Ye Du to initiate a conversation about being upset.

Aside from Class 12, Class 1 was the room Pupu visited most. Looking at a classroom where almost everyone was buried in books, Pupu didn’t know how to call Ye Du out. Finally, she caught a student returning from the restroom.

Pupu didn’t mention Ye Du’s recent “avoidance”—the not waiting after school, the not visiting for lunch. She just crossed her arms and said, “Ye Du, I didn’t wear enough today. I’m so cold.” Ye Du had grown taller since middle school; if they stood too close, Pupu had to look up to speak to her.

Actually, it wasn’t that cold, but Pupu had hidden her jacket in her desk before coming down. Ye Du paused, sighed, and said, “Okay, wait a second.” She went back to her seat and pulled a spare denim jacket from her storage bin. She was about to hand it over but stopped. She took off her own school uniform jacket, then took off the thick baseball jacket she was wearing underneath and handed that to Pupu. “This one is warmer. The denim one has been in the bin; it’s freezing.” As she spoke, she threw the cold denim jacket over her own shoulders.

Holding the oversized, warm jacket, Pupu knew the conflict was over. As she went to put it on, Ye Du took her hand and led her away. “Go change in the restroom,” Ye Du said.

When Ye Du walked Pupu back to Class 12, they ran into Cui Tong and Cao Yijing. Pupu took the chance to introduce them. “Look, this is my best friend, Ye Du.” When she said the words “best friend,” Ye Du couldn’t help but glance at Pupu’s expression. She felt Pupu had said it specifically for her benefit—like soothing a petty, sensitive child.

Cui Tong and Cao Yijing both smiled. Cui Tong’s look was playful, while Cao Yijing’s was polite. “We’re lucky to have a ‘genius friend’ by association through Pupu,” Cao Yijing said. Ye Du didn’t know how to respond and just smiled.

When the warning bell rang, Ye Du had to rush back—being late was a serious offense in Class 1. But as she ran, she faintly heard Cui Tong call out: “Let’s have lunch together sometime!”