Ling Tiantian had been moved back to Class Two — a fact that, in theory, should have meant nothing to Su Rou. They’d already broken off their friendship; whatever Ling did from then on was her own business, as far as Su Rou was concerned.
But Ling Tiantian didn’t see it that way. Since the fallout, she felt every glance and whisper in Class One as if they were about her. So every break she darted over to Class Two, to find Su Meimei.
“Meimei, I want to transfer back so badly,” she burst out the moment she saw her. Staying in Class One was unbearable. Whenever Su Rou and her two girlfriends clustered together, Ling always felt they were mocking her.
Su Meimei was painting her nails — glossy red — and started when Ling bumped her. A smear of polish landed on her finger. “Watch it! Why are you always in such a rush?” she snapped, dabbing at the mess with a tissue.
“Sorry… Meimei, what can I do? Help me get transferred back.” Ling withdrew her hand and looked imploringly miserable.
Su Meimei kept painting, casual as ever. “Why tell me? You think I’m your mother? It’s not my problem if you want to be miserable.”
Ling whimpered. “Don’t you have any way to help?”
“You want me to pull strings to get you moved?” Su Meimei lifted her head and stared at her. The summer seemed to have been unkind to Ling — she’d come back rounder than before.
“Can you?” Ling pressed. Meimei was her friend, after all; surely she’d help.
“I don’t have that kind of influence,” Meimei scoffed. She’d only hung around Ling last term because she wanted revenge on Su Rou. That game was over.
“Meimei…” Ling’s face crumpled.
“The bell’s ringing. Move it.” Meimei waved her off impatiently. Ling slunk out, her hopes sinking. She had no one left to beg — only one possibility remained. Her father.
Ling took her seat at the back of the first row. For reasons she couldn’t figure, the boy next to her always asked her to keep the classroom’s rear door unlocked every morning.
“Why do you want it open?” she asked, incredulous. If the door was open, patrolling teachers could spot the slackers in the back. With so much pressure on test scores, teachers walked the halls all the time now.
The boy laughed. “Because Su Rou’s always late. The back door’s for her.” It had become routine; they’d left it that way all last term. “When she’s here we’ll close it.”
Ling thought he was ridiculous. “So we’re doing this for her?” she said, disgusted.
“Just leave it open. She’ll come and then you can shut it.” The boy shrugged. “We’re all girls here — don’t make it harder on another girl. The teacher agreed; the back door’s for Su Rou. Coming in from the front interrupts the lesson.” He was half-joking, half-pleading.
Ling clicked her tongue and slammed the door shut anyway. She wouldn’t be the one to bend for Su Rou.
“Oddball,” the boy muttered, but the bell cut him off.
Halfway through the second period, the back door still closed, and Su Rou arrived. She walked up to the rear entrance and frowned — the handle didn’t yield.
“Maybe it’s just shut,” she said, pushing. The door stayed stubbornly closed. That shouldn’t happen; the back door was supposed to be left open for her. She pushed again, then gave up and made her way to the front.
“Sorry,” she announced, slipping in and interrupting the chemistry demonstration. The teacher paused, surprised. “Su Rou? Sit down. Don’t come in like that again. Use the back next time.”
“I’m sorry, teacher. I didn’t mean to disturb everyone. The back door wasn’t open,” Su Rou said, part apology, part explanation.
Every eye in the room flicked to the rear door. It was latched tight. The chemistry teacher frowned, setting down a test tube. “Who didn’t open the door for Su Rou?”
The boy beside Ling pointed at her. “It was Ling Tiantian. She wouldn’t open it.”
“Why?” the teacher demanded.
“I don’t know,” the boy mumbled. “But she insisted on keeping it shut.”
Suddenly all those glances that had felt like knives earlier zeroed in on Ling. She could feel their heat on her skin; her cheeks flushed, and for the first time since the semester started, she had nothing to say.
“You don’t want to learn? Then don’t sit at the back!” the chemistry teacher snapped, voice sharp. “One experiment takes time. If you don’t care, leave.”
“Ridiculous… the back door was for Su Rou, and now she’s making everyone wait…” someone muttered.
“Maybe Ling’s doing it on purpose after they fell out,” another whispered.
Listening to the murmurs, Ling’s eyes prickled. She had only shut a door — what right did they have to gang up on her?
The boy next to her leaned in with a smug smile. “Told you so.”
“Get away!” Ling suddenly snapped.
“Student, control your temper!” the teacher barked, pointing at her. “Stand up and go to the office!”
Under a stadium of stares, Ling rose awkwardly and left the classroom.
Across the room, Xiao Yun watched Ling’s retreating back with something close to satisfaction. Serves her right. That was the easy, vicious kind of justice students loved to dish out.
“Nice work, Rourou,” Xiao Yun said with a thumbs-up.
Su Rou shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips. “I didn’t even see who closed the door, but… well, she deserved it.” The rules of Class One weren’t hers to break — and she liked it that way.