Chapter 7: His Palm

"...Why couldn't it be a girl sitting over there watching us?" Leo complained offhandedly as he caught the basketball and passed it to a teammate nearby. "It'd be great if Nina came to watch..."

Although he muttered the second half under his breath, everyone else heard it crystal clear. Someone teased, "What, you have a crush on Nina?" but Leo simply rolled his eyes in disgust, ignoring their gossip, and took advantage of the moment to slip past the defense and coordinate a play with Ethan.

Even while playing basketball, Ethan showed little expression, dribbling the ball nonchalantly while calmly scanning the court. Leo gestured to him that he was ready to catch the ball and make a breakthrough, but after Ethan shot him a glance, he suddenly lowered his stance, dribbling as if he were about to push past his defender. The opponent naturally anticipated his move, nervously guessing who he might pass to; to everyone's surprise, Ethan suddenly pulled back, leapt into the air, and released a graceful three-pointer beyond the arc.

With a *clack*, the ball bounced off the backboard and dropped into the net somewhat narrowly.

Under the dim winter sky, the boys were still playing with passionate energy, each wearing only a thin T-shirt with faint wisps of steam rising from their heads. Ethan tilted his head, wiping the sweat from his temple against his shoulder. As someone picked up the ball to restart the game, Ethan said, "I'm gonna rest for a bit and grab a bottle of water."

"Get one for me too!" Leo cheered with a grin. "Bring me a bottle."

"Yeah." Ethan nodded slightly, stepping off the basketball court. Glancing at Lucas, who was clutching a notebook on a nearby bench, he headed toward the school convenience store without saying a word.

By the time he returned to the court holding bottles of mineral water, someone else had already filled his spot, and the game was back in full swing. His gaze didn't linger on the ball for long before naturally shifting over to Lucas beside the court.

Today's after-school tutoring session had been moved to the basketball court, just as Lucas had suggested. A bunch of guys were playing on the court, and occasionally a few girls would stroll past, pretending to just be taking a walk when they actually wanted a few extra glances at the guys they liked; but hardly anyone sat right next to the court reading a book like Lucas.

He was wearing a puffy, bulky down jacket, holding a notebook with one hand and stuffing the other into his pocket. Curled up against the cold, his head was lowered so low that his mouth was completely hidden inside his jacket collar.

Ethan cleared away the jackets they had tossed on the bench and sat down next to Lucas, leaving a bit of space between them. Lucas didn't react at all, holding his pose as if he were reading with utmost concentration. None of the surrounding noise seemed to affect him; no matter where he was, Lucas always moved at his own pace—slow, lazy, and self-absorbed to a fault.

"...You can take a break, you don't have to rush through memorizing it all," Ethan said.

Yet Lucas didn't answer, nor did he budge an inch. Curious, Ethan turned his head sideways, only to see that Lucas's soft hair almost completely covered his brows and eyes, while the lower half of his face was hidden deep in his collar, thoroughly concealed.

"Lucas?"

Still no response.

Suddenly, Lucas's head bobbed forward with a tiny, feeble dip, looking identical to the way he dozed off in class. Ethan thought his eyes were playing tricks on him—after all, sitting on a bench in the middle of a sports field with nothing to lean on, he couldn't possibly fall asleep—but soon enough, Lucas's head wobbled forward again, on the verge of toppling over at any moment.

Whether out of instinct or something else, Lucas finally lifted his head slightly, allowing Ethan to catch sight of his closed eyes.

...He really had fallen asleep sitting right by the court.

Lucas's tendency to sleep was far beyond that of a normal person. Just as Ethan realized he was indeed asleep, Lucas began listing weakly to the side again—tilting precisely toward where Ethan was sitting.

Ethan couldn't help but widen his eyes, looking on in utter helplessness as Lucas leaned straight toward him, instinctively reaching out his hand.

—

Ethan looked great playing basketball, but memorizing notes was undeniably boring. Having slept too little the night before, Lucas had barely spent any time by the court before his eyelids began fighting a losing battle.

It was truly a contradiction: Lucas wanted to watch Ethan, but he also wanted to sleep, to the point where even when he shut his eyes and dozed off with his head hanging, his brain was cooperatively replaying Ethan's cool, handsome posture on the court.

He was jolted awake by a sudden feeling of weightlessness as he was about to fall over.

"Mm...?"

A warm hand pressed against the side of his face, catching his head just in time. Lucas opened his drowsy eyes, blinking a few times before clearly seeing that Ethan—who had been so cool and sharp on the basketball court—was somehow sitting right next to him.

And was holding him up with his hand.

Before Lucas could process what was happening, Ethan pulled his hand back first: "If you're tired, you should go home and sleep."

His brain finally snapped fully awake, and he immediately straightened his back to explain, "I just accidentally..."

Realizing he had promised to memorize his notes but ended up falling asleep right on the sports field—and getting caught red-handed by Ethan—Lucas cursed his past self from fifteen minutes ago ten thousand times in his head. His original intention was to obediently memorize the notes to earn a chance to invite Ethan out for dessert, while enjoying the handsome sight of him playing ball along the way. A lingering warmth still rested on his cheek; Ethan had let go so quickly that he hadn't even gotten a chance to properly feel the warmth of his palm, nor did he have time to blush over the physical contact.

"I get it," Ethan said, turning his head back around, leaning forward in a relaxed posture as he took a sip of water. "...Let's head back then."

"Huh? You're not playing anymore?"

Ethan had already capped his mineral water bottle, standing up to put his jacket back on before calling out to Leo, "I'm heading back first, left the water here."

"Oh, OK!" Leo shouted back, only to have someone immediately break past his defense with the ball. "Ah... taking advantage of my distraction, you snake..."

Lucas hurriedly shoved his notes back into his bag and jogged a few steps to catch up with Ethan, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with him toward the school gate. "You're really done playing? They're not even finished yet..."

"They have enough people."

Over the past few days, they had been spending a lot of time together. With the homeroom teacher's order in place, coming and going together felt all the more natural. At first, some people were surprised that the top student would suddenly get so close to the aloof, bottom-ranking slacker, but perhaps after Leo said something, everyone gradually stopped being curious, accepting as fact that "Ethan and Lucas are good friends."

Even Lucas himself shared that illusion—that he and Ethan were friends, strictly speaking the very first friend he had made in high school who he could meet up with outside of school to grab ice cream.

His crush was a secret known only to himself.

His earlier drowsiness had completely vanished. Lucas walked beside Ethan with his neck hunched into his collar, squeezing out a sentence after a long pause: "I'm pretty much done memorizing it, really. You can pop-quiz me."

Ethan shot him a side-glance: "The next exam is a month away, you don't need to finish memorizing it right this second."

"Ah, is that so?" Lucas exhaled a cloud of white mist, his lips curving into a soft, gentle smile toward Ethan. "Maybe it's because I really want to eat dessert?"

"Go to sleep earlier at night, don't sleep during class—that'd be more useful."

"Mm, got it," he nodded obediently, then asked, "So can we take a detour to McDonald's later? I kind of want ice cream."

Ethan looked sideways at him, a half-smile on his face: "You're so cold you can barely stand up straight, yet you still want ice cream."

"Feeling cold is one thing, eating ice cream is another."

"If you're so sensitive to the cold, why aren't you wearing a scarf?"

"I didn't buy one, too lazy to go pick one out..." As Lucas spoke, his eyes naturally landed on Ethan's scarf. "Is that one... a gift from a girl? It looks hand-knitted."

—*Please don't let it be a gift from a girl, or else this would be way too embarrassing. He had even secretly sniffed it before.*

"No," Ethan said. "My mom knitted it... Here, you can have it. I have others."

Ethan's movement came abruptly; Lucas watched as he neatly unwrapped the scarf, revealing his neck and the earphones hanging around it. The soft scarf was thrust right in front of his eyes, and Lucas hesitated, not taking it: "That's not great, it was made by your mom..."

"I have a few other similar ones," Ethan said indifferently. "My mom really likes knitting scarfs."

For the very first time, Lucas wished Ethan wasn't so completely poker-faced.

Or rather, he wished Ethan possessed a bit more emotion, like Leo, who wore his heart on his sleeve.

Whether it was reaching out on the bench by the court to catch him as he almost tumbled over in his sleep, or casually giving away his scarf right now, if Ethan had shown even a shred of shyness or embarrassment... Lucas could have allowed himself to imagine that this secret crush was a mutual romance.

But it just had to be Ethan. He had handed over the scarf with a deadpan expression and caught him without saying a word, handling everything with absolute cold indifference, leaving no room for delusional hope.

Lucas finally reached out and took it: "Thanks then. Is there anything you want? I can buy you a gift too."

"No need."

Wrapping the scarf around his neck and taking in Ethan's warmth, he followed the topic down: "Then when's your birthday? I'll get you a present then. How about headphones?"

"My birthday is still a long way off, in the summer."

"Oh, I was born in winter," Lucas said. "Around Chinese New Year."

"I know."

The response came quickly—a bit too quickly, in fact. Lucas asked softly, "How do you know...?"

"..." Ethan paused, seemingly considering his answer. "Heard someone mention it."

"Who?"

"Don't remember."

"Huh..."

Ethan suddenly shifted the topic: "Are you free next weekend? I want to watch a movie, wanna come along?"

"Sure!" Lucas snapped up the offer instantly, his attention immediately pulled away. "What movie? I really like watching movies, do you?"

"Yeah," Ethan nodded. "*Pulp Fiction*. Always wanted to watch it, never got around to it."

"Ah, I've seen that one!" Lucas said. "I love that movie... Is it playing in theaters recently? No way, right?"

"No," Ethan said, looking subtly in another direction as he spoke, hiding his expression at an angle Lucas couldn't see. "You can come over to my place to watch it, and do some studying while we're at it."

Just then, a gust of cold wind blew past, turning Lucas's nose and cheeks red. Even though they were in the dead of winter and the wind was biting cold, he somehow felt as if a gentle spring breeze had mustered all its strength to sweep past, blowing an entire season's worth of birdsong and blossom fragrance straight into his heart.

Lucas couldn't help but curl his eyes in a smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but his breath trapped inside the scarf only made his face feel warmer.

Tucking the scarf down to reveal his full lips, he said, "Sounds great! I'll bring snacks over then. Do you prefer Pepsi or Coke?"

"I don't really like carbonated drinks."

"Then juice or milk?"

His straightforward, honest questions had an indescribable cuteness to them. Ethan pressed his lips together into a gentle smile, his eyelids drooping slightly, making his long eyelashes stand out: "Just get whatever you like to drink. I'm not picky."

Chapter 8: His Notes

Having something to look forward to made studying feel far less unbearable.

Thinking back carefully, nothing sudden or dramatic had happened between him and Ethan to trigger a sudden leap in their relationship; the two of them were more like sugar cubes dropped into coffee, melting together naturally and harmoniously without either of them even noticing. The amount of time Lucas spent dozing off decreased by a noticeable margin. He walked to and from school with Ethan, and they ate lunch together; occasionally during class breaks, he would even bring questions he couldn't understand to Ethan for an explanation.

Ethan didn't treat him with any obvious favoritism, always answering in his deep voice before adding a casual, "What do you want to eat for lunch?"

When Ethan played basketball, Lucas would sit by the court clutching the notes Ethan had organized for him. Whenever he grew sleepy and started nodding off, it wouldn't be long before Ethan would press a cold bottle of mineral water against his face, jolting him awake.

"Dozing off like that in winter will make you catch a cold."

"My body is super healthy."

After going back and forth through slightly comical exchanges like this a few times, Ethan stopped trying to persuade him. Whenever he caught Lucas dozing off again, he would casually drape his jacket—which he had taken off and set aside—over Lucas, then throw himself back onto the court to burn off his energy.

"I just can't figure it out... Why are you so close with Lucas Tong...?" On Friday afternoon, while a few of the guys were playing ball, Ethan and Leo rotated off the court to buy water at the store. Leo suddenly brought it up, "Isn't it awkward for him sitting over there? Why not invite him to play with us next time...?"

Paying for his own bottle, Ethan opened his mineral water and tilted his head back to take a sip: "He and I should get along pretty well."

"Huh?"

"Neither of us likes to talk much," Ethan said.

Leo squeezed his brows into a deep frown, pondering for a moment before saying, "Guess that makes sense. It's just that Lucas is so hard to get along with."

"Is he?"

The two turned back shoulder-to-shoulder, walking toward the basketball court. Leo began offering his own assessment of Lucas, which differed little from what everyone else thought: "He just hates paying attention to people. He always looks half-asleep, and if you talk to him, he ignores eight out of ten sentences. Back at the start of the semester, I asked him if he wanted to play ball together or hit the net cafe on the weekend to play games, and he just shook his head without uttering a single word. Mark sits right in front of him, and he hates Lucas too, saying the guy is just putting on an act..."

As Leo rambled on, he naturally looked over at Ethan, as if waiting for his agreement.

Ethan was indeed looking back at him, though his expression wasn't particularly friendly—looking a few degrees colder than his usual poker face.

Leo was instantly struck silent, drawing out an awkward "Uh..." He really shouldn't have said those things right in front of Ethan; even a fool could see that Lucas was on good terms with him. After a brief pause, Ethan shifted his gaze away, landing on Lucas, who was sitting not far away dozing off: "...He just doesn't talk much, and I don't talk much either."

"Well, you're obviously different, Bro Ethan! Your grades are great, and you help anyone who asks..."

However, Ethan didn't seem to hear a word of it. He quickened his pace toward Lucas, tossing a nonchalant "I'm heading back first" to Leo. Unsure if his words had offended Ethan, Leo stood rooted on the spot with an awkward, flustered expression—he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with Ethan, not to mention Ethan had great grades and often let him copy homework.

He watched Ethan walk up to the bench, lowering his hand to press the cold water bottle against Lucas's face. The lazy slacker—who knew nothing but sleeping all day and had no friends—was instantly jolted awake by the chill. He then very naturally picked up the jacket draped over himself, handing it back to Ethan while looking up, his lips curving into a smile as he said something.

Truth be told, Lucas was actually pretty handsome; even Leo, as another guy, had to admit that.

But precisely because he was handsome, ignoring people made him look like even more of a pretentious snob, so it was no wonder few guys hung out with him.

—

"Heading home?" Lucas squinted, handing the padded jacket back to Ethan. "I want ice cream..."

Ethan looked down at him, taking the coat and slipping it on briskly: "Then we'll take a detour later."

When Lucas first discovered Ethan's jacket draped over him, he had been slightly startled. But when Ethan took the jacket back without making a fuss—not even saying a word of nonsense—Lucas's nervous flutter and anxiety gradually faded away. As the saying goes, distance fades with familiarity. With frequent contact, those moments that used to make his heart race settled into a comforting daily routine.

Yet, it was still utterly sweet.

Everyone else had grown accustomed to the sight; Ethan often left early, walking home with Lucas.

The noise on the basketball court continued. Unbothered by how he looked, Lucas slouched slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he asked sluggishly, "Tomorrow's Saturday."

"Yeah."

"Are you going to your granddad's house, or coming to pick me up, or...?"

"Come to my place," Ethan said with a rare trace of self-consciousness, shooting him a quick glance. "It's right near the convenience store at that intersection. Wait for me there tomorrow at 1:30? Or 2:00?"

"1:30 then... Are your parents home?"

"No, but my little brother is."

"You have a little brother...?" Lucas asked in surprise. "How old?"

"Five. His name is Sam."

"Different last name from you?"

"Yeah, different fathers," Ethan said. "Don't you have a sister too?"

"Huh, how do you know that?"

"Saw her that day. She came out of the stairwell and stood behind you," Ethan said. "You two look a lot alike. She's very pretty."

"She is pretty good-looking, but she has a boyfriend."

When teenage high school boys talked about "pretty women," their thoughts easily drifted toward romance, to the point where Lucas completely failed to pick up on the fact that Ethan's compliment was a roundabout way of saying *he* was handsome. Lucas simply felt a sudden surge of rivalry even regarding his own sister—Ethan was naturally quite mature, looking distinctly mature compared to their classmates. Could he actually prefer older women?

Before Ethan could reply, Lucas pressed on: "You don't happen to like my sister's type, do you? Because I won't help you out."

—*Of course he wouldn't help the guy he liked chase someone else; that would be way too painful.*

"You're overthinking."

"Oh, really? Well, she has a boyfriend anyway—just announced it recently."

Today was no different from any other day. Chatting idly, they took a detour to McDonald's, bought a buy-one-get-one-half-off ice cream, and ate as they walked home. Whenever he was with Ethan, Lucas could feel himself becoming dense; every time he recalled their casual conversations, he could spot several instances where he sounded like a total idiot.

It was only at night, after showering and lying in bed while holding Ethan's physics notes, that his heart began to pound in delayed reaction.

Tomorrow, he was going to Ethan's house to spend an entire afternoon.

"...Could there be any progress?" He abruptly set down the notebook, placing it right over his chest. Even through the paper, he could feel his rapid heartbeat. "Or should I just confess directly...? It's better to confess before leaving, right? Otherwise, if it gets awkward, the whole afternoon together is ruined... Forget it, if I confess now, we might not even talk to each other before graduation."

Lucas lay on his back, talking to himself for a while, then curled up in the soft bedding while clutching the notebook to his side.

This was bad—once his thoughts started down this path, the images in his mind kept playing on loop without pause. The sight of Ethan looking down while reading mesmerized him most, especially those long eyelashes that seemed slightly out of place with his cold exterior. But that slight mismatch didn't diminish his charm; it was like discovering a hunting leopard in the forest stretching lazily like a house cat, making him seem all the more endearing.

As the recalled images grew richer and more vividly realistic, Lucas closed his eyes.

It felt as if a switch had been flipped inside his body, a surge of youthful restlessness coursing wildly through his blood, guiding his senses toward a direction that made him blush yet proved impossible to resist.

He curled up tighter under the covers, untying the drawstring of his pajama pants. Still holding onto Ethan's notebook, he caught a subtle trace of Ethan's scent amidst his deliberately restrained breathing.

—

The next afternoon, the weather warmed up slightly for a change. Lucas stood at the entrance of the convenience store wearing earphones.

Following Ethan's habit, he had been listening to English audio passages the entire way over, his lips opening and closing occasionally as he mouthed the words silently. In his hand, he held a translucent white plastic bag filled to the brim with snacks and drinks.

When Ethan walked over, tall and upright in the distance, Lucas was just switching the bag to his other hand because his fingers hurt from the weight. Catching sight of him, Lucas instinctively popped out one earbud and jogged up to meet him: "You're so punctual!"

"It's alright. Have you been waiting long?" Ethan said, reaching out to take the heavy bag from his hands.

Lucas wasn't shy about it—he genuinely disliked carrying heavy things—so he handed it over directly, pulling out a popsicle from the bag along the way: "Nah, only like five minutes?"

"This way," Ethan said. He suddenly reached out toward Lucas's chest, taking hold of the dangling earbud, and imitated what Lucas had done before by tilting his head to slip it into his own ear. "...Hmm, you've made progress."

"...I'm very smart, you know," Lucas said, curving his lips into a smile.

"I know, I can tell," Ethan said. "What do you plan to do about the physical education exam? Failing every single event is going to be trouble."

"...Even if you kill me, I won't pass."

"Starting next week, play basketball with me. It'll help a little."

"Do I really have to? I almost never play..."

Lucas bit into his popsicle while Ethan carried the bag, leading him toward his house.

Ethan's house wasn't as far as he had imagined. Walking from their meeting spot took less than ten minutes; going to school from here probably took about the same time as from his own place. Following behind Ethan, he watched him unlock the front door. Before Lucas could even peek inside, a loud crashing noise echoed from within, as if something had shattered on the floor.

"Sam?" Ethan called out gently.

Lucas leaned past Ethan's side to look into the apartment, only to see a red-faced, flustered young boy running out, wobbling as he threw himself against Ethan's legs: "Brother..."

"What did you do?"

"...Broke a bowl..." The troublemaking child spoke with a mixture of guilt and distress, only then noticing another head poking out from behind his brother's shoulder. "Who is that?"

Ethan supported his shoulders to nudge him aside slightly before stepping inside to take off his shoes: "Brother's classmate... Go play, I'll clean it up."

Lucas looked curiously at the boy, then at Ethan. The wonder in his eyes was like discovering a brand-new continent—Ethan was so gentle, possessing a soft side that was completely unnoticeable in his day-to-day life.

"Come on in," Ethan said, completely unaware of Lucas's thoughts. He set out guest slippers and turned back to tell him, "I'll go clean up inside first. Pull the door shut behind you."

"Okay."

Chapter 9: His Room

An extremely ordinary living room, with extremely ordinary decor.

Lucas had tried to picture what Ethan's house would look like, but no matter how he imagined it, he couldn't deviate from Ethan's vibe—he always assumed it would be just like the guy himself, washed in cool tones