I've known since childhood that Zhou Yuchuan belonged to me.
He did my homework for me, took the blame for me, and tilted his umbrella toward me on rainy days.
Until high school, when he suddenly started avoiding me.
He stopped waiting for me after school, refused the soda I offered him, and even stood downstairs from my building, chatting and laughing with the school beauty.
I cornered him against the back wall of the gym. "Zhou Yuchuan, what do you mean by this?"
He lowered his eyes and flicked at the collar I'd crumpled. "Lin You, we've grown up."
But that night, I received a text he had sent by mistake: "She touched my clothes today. I want to take a shower."
Then came the message-recalled notification, followed by a cold "Sent by mistake."
I stared at the screen and burst out laughing.
Zhou Yuchuan, you're done for.
