9
He always said that about me.
A thousand students in a grade. Logically, Cole and I could have graduated without ever meeting.
If not for his habit of skipping class.
And my being, coincidentally, a diligent student monitor in charge of catching truants.
“Can you not write my name down?”
A sixteen–year–old Cole, lean but with broad shoulders. When he looked up to speak, he had a devil–may–care attitude.
“No.”
He said he skipped class to go to free underground film screenings. The kind of useless, artsy stuff that parents disapproved of. Things that woul
dn’t make money or put food on the table.
“Right,” he said, his tone so obedient I thought he was going to turn back to class.
But he let out a soft whistle, vaulted over the wall with ease, and after his successful escape, he even turned back.
His eyes were defiant and clear, with a reckless charm.
Then write it down. Senior.”
I hated anyone who didn’t follow the rules.
‘Look, there’s Cole from the first year, collecting love letters again.”
My then–gossip–buddy, later–boss, my best friend, was leaning over the corridor railing, watching the popular boy under the tree at the school.com-
er
I said coldly, “I don’t like disobedient people.”
He heard me.
How could he have such good hearing?
A dark, teasing glance.
We should have had no connection.
Until that day, someone followed me home.
I told my mom. But she was busy divorcing my dad.
She listened, then turned and said only one thing to me.
“If your dad and I divorce,” her face was a mask of cold sorrow, “I only want your sister.”
My sister was likable. She had dated a troublemaker from the neighborhood, got tired of him, and found someone more handsome. But she didn’t
want to be the bad guy.
So she turned to him with an innocent face and said, “My sister doesn’t want me to be with you.”
That troublemaker was the one following me.
He found my number.
He sent me messages.
【I know which class you’re in.)
[You just wait.]
【Even if I have to spend a few days in juvie, I’m gonna make you f*cking bleed.]
On my way home, the shadow always followed me. They were capable of anything.
The bus stop in front of Thirteenth High.
Snowy night.
Cole was waiting for the bus. His eyes were fierce, his expression unpredictable, with a face that screamed “don’t mess with me.”
I stood right next to him.
Pretending we knew each other.
He raised an eyebrow, looked past me, and saw the person behind me.
“Still looking? Get lost.”
Cole was unbelievably arrogant.
But he managed to scare them off.
He followed me home.
“Senior,” he said. “Actually, I can’t fight.”
All bluster. He was a better actor than anyone.
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling guilty. “For getting you involved. Thank you.”
He stepped in front of me.
Stopped.
His shadow blocked the halo of the streetlamp.
“No,” his voice was clean and pleasant. “I meant, I’m the obedient type.”
I believed him. Maybe he really did just skip class to watch movies. Those innocent eyes, looking at me without a hint of impurity.
If not for the next day, when I accidentally saw him in an alley, having someone beat up those troublemakers.
His eyes were cold.
Chapter 2
2018 M
His eyes were cold.
With a world–weary, fierce look that didn’t belong to someone his age.
He turned his head, tossing a lighter up and down.
Up and down.
Until the person begged for mercy.
After that, no one dared to mess with me again.
In my sophomore year of college, I was studying in the provincial capital.
My sister called me.
“Mom still doesn’t want to see you. It’s because you look like Dad.”
“What do you want?” I asked.
She giggled.
“That really pale, handsome guy from your high school, Cole. Do you have his number?”
Because of blood ties, I never had the guts to completely cut things off.
But that day, I blocked her number and, for decades, until I got married, divorced, and beyond, I never contacted her again.
At that time, Cole had just finished his college entrance exams. We hadn’t spoken in three years. We were complete strangers.
