As my stepfather grabbed my hair and slammed my head towards the toilet, Zack appeared out of nowhere and kicked him to the ground. My teenage hero was like a gust of wind, blowing through my entire youth. Later, on the eve of confessing my feelings, I overheard his conversation with his friends. “Zack, I heard that Olivia secretly kissed you last week. Tsk tsk, you actually let that metal-mouth kiss you?” Zack’s nonchalant voice drifted from the private room: “Girls like that who are desperate for love will come running with just a crook of your finger. Besides, you have no idea how thrilling it is to get a blowjob from metal-mouth.” As my stepfather slammed my head towards the toilet, Zachary appeared out of nowhere and kicked him to the ground. My teenage hero was like a gust of fresh wind, blowing through my entire youth. Later, on the eve of confessing my feelings, I overheard his conversation with his friends. “Zach, I heard that Olivia secretly kissed you last week. Tsk tsk, you actually let that metal-mouth kiss you?” Zachary’s nonchalant voice drifted from the private room: “Girls like that who are desperate for love will come running with just a crook of your finger. Besides, you have no idea how thrilling it is to get a blowjob from metal-mouth.” I never imagined Zachary could say such things. In my heart, he was almost a heroic figure. But now, the laughter floating out of the room was so sharp and cruel. This conversation full of insults and mockery continued. Zachary’s voice came through, thick with alcohol: “Do you know how metal-mouth secretly kissed me?” He laughed crudely and lightly touched the corner of his lips: “That day I was napping on my desk, and she suddenly leaned down and kissed me right here.” Amidst the clinking of beer bottles, someone hooted: “Ooh, Olivia’s been secretly in love with you for seven years, she finally couldn’t hold back anymore.” “But Zach, you really let her kiss you?” “It’s all the same with your eyes closed.” He let out a satisfied sigh: “Her neck is sensitive though, she trembles at the slightest touch.” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. I clutched my clothes tightly, afraid my tears would fall. This wasn’t the Zachary I knew. When my stepfather violently grabbed my hair and slammed my head towards the toilet, Zachary had grabbed the back of my stepfather’s neck with one hand and kicked him to the ground. My teenage hero had a thin frame, wearing only a school uniform. But he was left with an eternal scar above his eyebrow. I curled up in the corner, crying and apologizing to him. The setting sun slanted in, but he just raised an eyebrow at me and said carelessly: “You did nothing wrong. You don’t need to apologize to anyone.” Zachary was like a flame ignited in the snow – it only took an instant to burn through a foolish girl’s heart. But now, through the crack in the door, his voice was so clear. “Her parents don’t even want her. Girls like that who are desperate for love will come running with just a crook of your finger.” He chuckled: “Metal-mouth’s blowjobs are really something…especially when she cries and says no…tsk tsk.” The room erupted in raucous laughter. My body suddenly stiffened, and the tears I had been holding back finally fell. That’s right, I had almost forgotten. In the seventh year of my secret love for Zachary, we were still just ordinary friends. But I had kissed him anyway. And he had slept with me anyway.
From our teenage years to working as adults, Zachary had countless admirers over the years. And I was just the most unremarkable one among them all. The only thing worth celebrating was that I was quite persistent. In the seventh year of my secret love, I had at least become his ordinary friend. For me, being friends was enough. Someone as wonderful as Zachary deserved a goddess. My best friend tried to persuade me: “Olivia, are you stupid? Why waste your best years pining after just Zachary?” But she didn’t understand that falling for Zachary was the most natural thing in the world. He accompanied me through dark alleys, and from then on I was no longer afraid of stray dogs barking on the street. He got into fights with those who spread rumors about me, and after that no one in class dared call me “big boobs” or “cow” anymore. He rented an apartment with heating for me, and from then on I no longer feared my father’s fists. There was no one in the world who treated me better than Zachary. Later I would often secretly watch him play basketball in the hallway. I loved the way he tilted his head back to drink water, loved how his sweat dripped down his neck and into his collar. Love was like a raging fire, and I retreated step by step, until I was burned to ashes. Only now do I understand that the fire in a boy’s eyes is not a fixed star. Those scars he got from fighting for me, the hand warmers he secretly slipped into my desk – they were just ashes falling as shooting stars burned out. But in that moment, I truly felt like I had touched the moon. My phone suddenly rang. It was a call from Zachary. I answered, and his voice came through, slurred with alcohol: “Olivia, we agreed you’d come for my birthday today. Why aren’t you here yet?” “Everyone’s waiting for you. If you don’t come, my birthday won’t be any fun.” The drunk man whined at me: “And don’t forget to bring the scarf you knitted for me.” “I don’t care what anyone else gives me, I just want your gift.” I gave a bitter smile. Knitting a scarf as a birthday gift for your boyfriend had become popular on TikTok. At the time, Zachary had tagged me, strongly demanding that I knit one for him. “Come on Olivia, please agree? You know how much I hate the cold.” What cold could a 6-foot-tall man possibly be afraid of? I couldn’t refuse him, and it took me three months to barely manage to knit something resembling a scarf. I used to be best at handicrafts. But it had been so long since I picked up knitting needles, my technique was rusty. But he had forgotten – the video said this was for knitting a scarf for your boyfriend. And Zachary and I were just ordinary friends. I looked at the crooked, misshapen scarf in my hands. “Zachary, I have something to do, so I won’t be able to come celebrate your birthday.” “The scarf turned out really ugly, you probably wouldn’t like it anyway. I’ll just throw it away.” I hung up the phone. I had no home, no family. Back when we took the college entrance exams, I had scored over 30 points higher than him, but I willingly changed my major from fashion design to finance. All these years, I had treated wherever Zachary was as my home. But without love, this city was just too cold. I bought a plane ticket to Paris on my phone. Let’s just say that $1500 bought out my seven years of youth.
Ever since I threw away Zachary’s scarf, he never messaged me again. I knew he was angry with me. In the past, I would have coaxed him at times like this. But this time I didn’t want to bother anymore. Until our mutual friend Jack called me. “Olivia, you absolutely can’t miss this gathering. Listen, Zachary wants to introduce someone to us. As his friend, you can’t refuse to show your face, right?” Friend. Always just a friend. Even though I had secretly loved Zachary for so long, they were still certain that someone like him would never look twice at me. After a while, I reluctantly agreed. Zachary, let this be the last time I see you. I arrived early at the agreed restaurant, but the guest of honor was late to arrive. The restaurant was decorated very elegantly, with cute balloons even stuck to the walls. They had Hello Kitty designs. A shameful flutter of excitement suddenly rose in my heart. All these years, I was the only female friend Zachary had. For holidays and special occasions, he always gave me Hello Kitty gifts. He said I looked just like Hello Kitty, especially cute. But now, his whole group of friends were gathered around, and they had even queued up “Marry Me” to play. I unconsciously clenched my fists. My heart was pounding loudly. Zachary couldn’t be planning to confess to me, could he? “Sorry I’m late, everyone.” A lazy voice drifted over. I instinctively turned to look. The overhead lights shone on Zachary’s neatly trimmed hair as he greeted us, holding a girl’s hand. The girl had a face like a first love – very pretty. She shyly hid behind him. Zachary ruffled her hair and whispered something in her ear. Her face suddenly turned red, and she playfully hit Zachary. “This is my girlfriend, Tessa.” He sat down casually, pulling the girl with him. The private room immediately erupted in teasing shouts. “Ooh, so this is our little sister-in-law? She’s so cute!” I was stunned for a long time, unable to react. Belatedly, a sour feeling welled up in my nose. I was so stupid to think he was going to confess to me. I had thought that the reason Zachary hadn’t dated anyone all these years was at least partly because of me. Even if it was just a tiny part. But I had forgotten – he didn’t like me at all. Jack slammed his beer bottle on the table: “Zach, you’re not being fair! Isn’t this your high school deskmate? Come on, tell the truth, did you have a secret crush on her back then?” The teasing grew even louder. Someone switched the music from “Marry Me” to “Marry You”. Along with the music, Zachary cursed with a red face: “What are you talking about?! If I liked her in high school, why would it take until now to get her?” Someone pushed me. “Olivia, you were closest to Zachary in high school. Tell us, did he like little sis-in-law back then?” The laughter filling the room felt like shards of glass stabbing my ears. I forced my lips into a slight curve: “Is that so? I might not remember clearly. After all, Zachary and I were just ordinary friends.” It felt like a dull knife was cutting into my chest. How could I possibly not remember clearly when it came to Zachary? But back then, it wasn’t Zachary who liked Tessa, it was Tessa who liked Zachary. Unlike me, Tessa was open and direct about liking Zachary. Passing love notes, giving chocolates, causing a stir throughout the class. Zachary found her annoying and warned her off several times. In the end, when he really couldn’t stand her anymore, he used me as a shield. “Tessa, I already like someone.” The boy had one hand in his pocket as he casually put an arm around me. “Olivia isn’t even pretty, what do you like about her?” Zachary’s expression suddenly darkened: “I just like her, okay? It’s none of your business.” Tessa ran back to the classroom crying and never bothered him again after that. In that moment, I thought there must have been a grain of truth in Zachary’s joking words. Otherwise, why use me as a shield instead of someone else? But now it seems that was just thoughtless words spoken in our youth. They could be blown away by the slightest breeze. But I had foolishly taken them to heart. In the private room, they had started playing truth or dare. Zachary had lost several rounds and was drunkenly leaning against Tessa. His eyes were gentle, his expression adoring. He was just like that 17-year-old boy again. He and Tessa were whispering about something, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek. I couldn’t watch anymore and fled the room like a deserter.
I hadn’t gone far from the private room when someone called out to me. “Olivia! Zach says you forgot something!” Zach. She said his name so intimately. I turned around to see Tessa, out of breath from running after me. “Here.” A dirty Hello Kitty keychain lay in her hand. “Zach said to return this to you.” She pouted: “I don’t know why a grown man would have a Hello Kitty keychain on his car keys. It’s so ugly.” She gave me a challenging smile: “But I got him a Hermès keychain instead, and he seems to really like it.” “This one is just too old and tacky.” I stared blankly at the keychain. In high school, when Zachary won an award in the physics competition, he had begged me to make him a little keychain. “Olivia, will you make me a Hello Kitty one?” “That way, when I hang it on my backpack, it’ll be like you’re with me.” Later when his career took off, the keychain moved from his backpack to his car keys. All these years, even as it got worn and damaged, he had never replaced it. But now he had taken it off his car keys. It felt like there was a hole in my heart, with the wind whistling through. I suddenly felt so tired. It was like a reminder – Olivia, your memories with him were just a huge illusion. I pressed my lips together, then suddenly smiled: “It is pretty old. If you don’t want it anymore, just throw it away.” Even though Zachary and I had never actually been together, his home was filled with traces of our life together. My toothbrush, my slippers, my makeup. He said it was more convenient that way, so I could stay over if we hung out late. But now that he had a girlfriend, I should clear out my things completely. As if I had never been part of his life at all. While packing up my things from Zachary’s place, I suddenly found a torn piece of lingerie. Black lace, very sexy. My thoughts drifted back to seven years ago. Puberty had hit me hard, bringing with it pointless mockery and insults. The thin school uniform couldn’t hide my overwhelming insecurity. My mom had run off with someone else long ago, and my so-called father did nothing but yell at me and hit me. I wore my mother’s old bras, hunched over, barely surviving amidst my classmates’ taunts. Until one day Zachary secretly slipped me a box. “I looked it up…you should wear this from now on…” The boy stared at the ground, his face red and uncomfortable. When I got home, I realized what Zachary had given me. It was a training bra. Pink, with Hello Kitty printed on it. Very cute. There was a thoughtful little note attached: “Those guys making crude jokes are disgusting. Olivia, don’t pay any attention to them.” Later when I grew up, I could no longer fit into that training bra. I kept it buried at the bottom of my closet, as if telling me I had finally escaped that damp, miserable adolescence. I grew to love beauty more, got braces, and switched to sexier lingerie. That way I could be a more suitable friend for Zachary. Until that drunken night when I mumbled to him: “Zachary, I really like you so much.” He was asleep, the sunlight shining on the scar above his eyebrow. I gently kissed it. Even now, I still hate that kiss. It broke down some barrier between Zachary and me. Things spiraled out of control after that. Zachary hadn’t actually been asleep at all. He opened his eyes, his gaze dark and intense. My heart dropped. Great, now we couldn’t even be friends anymore. But he suddenly kissed me roughly. That kiss burned away seven years of hurt and resentment, as if trying to make up for all the heartbeats we had missed. Zachary pressed me down, conquering every inch. By the end I could only curl up in his arms, crying softly. He chuckled and stroked my face, saying quietly: “Olivia, you’re so sensitive.” I thought my seven years of unrequited love had finally paid off. Blushing, I asked him: “Zachary, what are we now?” But he just raised an eyebrow carelessly: “Friends, of course.” “Though Olivia, I never realized how soft you were before.”
The memories left a bitter taste. I pressed my lips together and threw the lingerie in the trash. Just as I finished packing, the front door opened. The person who came in was drunk, stumbling towards me. It was Zachary. His face was flushed red as he slurred: “Olivia, why have you been ignoring me lately?” Zachary staggered and crashed into me, dangling a dirty keychain in front of my face. “Look, I picked up the trash you threw away.” It was snowing heavily outside. He had an intricately knit English plaid scarf around his neck. Hand-knitted, very delicate, with a little peach embroidered on it. I suddenly remembered the scarf I had knitted for Zachary. Very crude stitching, hideously ugly. But I had to admit, the scarf Tessa knitted suited him better. Zachary came closer and closer. I could clearly see the scar above his eyebrow. That was a hero’s medal. But only now did I realize that some people’s heroic dreams survive by feeding on others’ sincere hearts. “Tessa was just joking with you. She knows this keychain means a lot to me, since it was the first gift you ever gave me…” He suddenly hugged me, murmuring in my ear: “Sweet Olivia, let me hold you. I’m a bit drunk.” So what was I then? I shoved him away hard, tears falling uncontrollably: “Zachary, you have a girlfriend now. We’ve crossed a line.” He froze, then suddenly gave a mocking smile: “So what if I have a girlfriend? Does that stop you from still liking me?” In that instant, my heart turned upside down. I had always thought my feelings were so quiet and subtle. But it turns out Zachary wasn’t completely oblivious – he knew everything. He just enjoyed my affection for him. Because he knew my love came free of charge. It hurt so much. Too much. “Zachary.” I pried his fingers off one by one: “I don’t want to like you anymore.” I wiped my tears and clutched the boarding pass in my hand. “I won’t be coming back to this so-called home either.”
The boarding gate was crowded. As soon as I turned on my phone, it was flooded with missed calls from Zachary. I closed my eyes for a moment, then turned off my phone. In the past, I was always the one calling Zachary. On the rare occasions when he called me first, I would be overjoyed. Now seeing all these missed calls just irritated me. At 30,000 feet in the air, the light breaking through the clouds stung my eyes. I suddenly remembered altering Zachary’s school uniform when we were 17. He had hit a growth spurt then, and his uniform never quite fit right. After I finished the alterations, he blinked at me, his eyes crinkled with a smile: “Olivia, you were born to be a designer!” Back then he said he wanted me to be his personal designer for life. We let our imaginations run wild, with all of youth ahead of us to paint our dreams. In the blink of an eye, seven years had passed. He was still as carefree and unrestrained as before, but I had lost the courage to keep accompanying him. We had journeyed together for a while, but now I needed to look ahead. I had wanted to go to Paris for a long time. My earliest dreams were buried there. I wanted to create clothing that more girls would love. Designs that wouldn’t make them criticize their own bodies, but help them accept themselves more openly. I spent the happiest month of my life in Paris. The city was vast, with no bitter unrequited love, able to contain all my dreams and ambitions. Practice makes perfect – I quickly got the hang of design and was hired as a junior designer at a company. The design director at the company was very kind to me. Even when my designs weren’t perfect, he would patiently guide me. He was very similar to how Zachary used to be. Equally proud and willful, wild and unrestrained. But Christopher had a gentleness that Zachary lacked. These past few days I had been unsatisfied with the design sketches in my hands. I thought Christopher would make me redo them, but he snatched the sketches from me instead. The mixed-race man leaned against the doorframe, a black turtleneck sweater hugging his long neck: “Narrow this part by two inches.” Christopher’s suggestion hit the nail on the head. I jumped up and grabbed the sketches back from him. “Christopher, you’re amazing!” He snorted with laughter: “Well, the student has to have the talent to understand.” “Sometimes when you’re stuck, don’t force yourself. Want me to help you find some inspiration?” Christopher raised an eyebrow at me. “Sure.” I heard the cheerfulness in my own voice. In an old bookstore by the Seine, he gently turned the pages of a book. A bittersweet feeling welled up inside me. This scene was so beautiful, like being back at age 17 again. At 17, Zachary hated studying but often pestered me to tutor him. But he would always end up falling asleep. Now as Christopher flipped through the book pages, the way the wind ruffled his hair, even the corners of his eyes and brows – it all looked just like 17-year-old Zachary. I pressed my lips together, but Christopher tapped my head with the book. “What are you thinking about so intently?” He suddenly turned his head, his nose almost brushing my ear: “Olivia, all the clothes you design are saying the same thing.” “What’s that?” My voice was a bit hoarse. “You can’t see me.” He smiled and patted my head. An indescribable ache burst in my chest. Just as I was about to say something, my phone rang. I accidentally hit the speakerphone button. A young man’s voice filled the bookstore. “It’s raining in Paris.” It was Zachary. A random statement, but tinged with a hint of grievance. My fingers unconsciously fiddled with the edge of a book page: “How do you know it’s raining in Paris?” Mixed with the sound of rain, his low chuckle came through the receiver: “Turn around.” The stained glass windows reflected a tall figure. Zachary stood in the rain, his voice low on the other end of the phone: “Olivia, you found a new man so quickly?”
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