11
Ethan Lee.
First place in the midterm.
“”
In both this life and the last, my only real
competition in high school.
And my deskmate for three years.
Strange.
<
I had wondered why.
In my past life, I hadn’t even spoken ten
sentences to him.
My parents, afraid of exposing Willow’s true
academic level, never allowed me to answer
questions in class, let alone interact with
classmates.
Willow further cemented my image as the
“evil sister.”
I was isolated, ostracized.
A lonely, gloomy outcast for three years.
But this time, I wouldn’t let any learning
opportunity slip by. I’d already pestered Ethan
countless times with questions about
Chemistry, my weakest subject.
He had just paused, then earnestly and
patiently explained everything.
Back and forth.
We became familiar.
When I wrote the report letter, he even gave
<
He naturally knew what had happened today.
But I didn’t understand his words.
I had failed.
Why should I smile?
Bathed in sunlight, the boy’s face glowed as
he grinned: “Because you took the first step
in taking down the fake innocent act.
“If once doesn’t work, try a second time, a
third time. Are you just going to give up?”
I blinked slowly.
Then, my eyelashes fluttered:
“Of course not.”
Never.
