Those two PE periods eventually ended with NTHU's inline skating club performing a not-so-impressive freestyle show. But the entire time, I couldn't take my eyes off A-Ta's flushed face.

  Even now, when I think back on it, there's still something lodged in my chest—a heavy weight called guilt.

  What a miserable guy. I could only imagine how, every time their club needed a warm-up ugh, A-Ta's eternal embarrassment would be dragged out again. Over and over.

  Again and again. Until it was burned into the minds of everyone who had ever heard it.

  Even if his name was forgotten, the absurd story—“the guy whose girlfriend got stolen by a lesbian”—would never be erased.

  Something simir had happened to me, too.

  -----

  In third grade, during morning self-study, everyone was practicing their vocabury when a fierce stray dog suddenly barged into the cssroom, barking wildly. It looked aggressive, and with no teacher around, the whole css descended into chaos.

  I was the closest to the dog, and in a panic, I jumped onto my desk, crying. But the moment it heard me sobbing, the stray dog started circling my seat, occasionally pawing at me, its drool dripping onto my shoes.

  Terrified on top of the desk, surrounded by my cssmates’ ughter and shouts, I didn’t know if it was fear or humiliation, but I lost control.

  In front of fifty cssmates, a dark stain spread across my skirt, soaking into the workbook on my desk.

  The stray dog, perhaps feeling guilty, tucked its tail between its legs and ran away.

  Later, when the teacher finally arrived, they didn't bother to ask what had happened.

  Assuming I was just causing trouble, they punished me by making me stand at the front of the css and copy text onto the board—still wearing my soaked skirt.

  I cried and cried, but no amount of sobbing could drown out the roaring ughter of my cssmates behind me.

  But the story didn't end there.

  From that day on, I became a joke. That nightmare followed me all the way until sixth grade, thanks to Ji-An Zhang—a kid with a bowl cut who looked just like Gian from Doraemon.

  I became a ughingstock from then on. This nightmare followed me all the way until sixth grade, all thanks to that bowl-cut kid who looked like Gian in Doramemon—"Ji′an Zhang."

  (T/N: 技安张; Jì ān zhāng refers to Takeshi Gouda (刚田武, Gāngtián Wǔ), also known as "Gian" (技安, Jì ān) in Chinese, from the popur Japanese manga and anime series Doraemon. A bully in Doraemon, known for his strong, rough personality, he often picks on Nobita, the main character.)

  Ji′an Zhang kept being in the same css as me, and he continuously seized every opportunity to share my embarrassing moments with the other new cssmates. Every time he recounted one, I would cry. And every time I cried, he would enthusiastically cp and cheer, a natural troublemaker.

  Luckily, he was in a different middle school district from mine, so I kept holding on to the dream that “my life will restart when I get to middle school; don't rush, don't panic.”

  So, when I saw him grinning and sitting behind me during the middle school orientation, I was completely dumbfounded. Before he could start recounting my embarrassing moments to the new cssmates, tears began to fall, and I was trembling with fear. The new counselor even thought I was in so much pain from my period that they had the head of the health department take me to the infirmary to rest.

  Later, I found out that the school district had been redrawn.

  But it turned out I was overthinking.

  It seemed that Ji′an Zhang suddenly matured when he entered middle school. He no longer brought it up and didn't talk to me much.

  However, the taste of that childhood nightmare will stay with me for life.

  A person can embarrass themselves, but there's always someone nearby who rewinds those unpleasant memories and mocks them. What a cruel way to treat someone.

  So, I can't be that kind of person.

  -------

  As the PE css ended, everyone was still enthusiastically discussing A-Ta′s embarrassing moment on the way back to the cssroom.

  “That guy A-Ta is really the king of endurance. If it were me, I would have exploded in anger already.”

  I said this while buying a can of HeySong Oolong Tea from the vending machine. Clunk.

  “This just proves that no matter how bad something is, people can get used to it. And once you’re used to it, you stop feeling anything.”

  Xiao Qing, completely detached from the conversation, bought a can of Coffee Pza. Clunk.

  She had completely forgotten how she would grit her teeth in pain and even take sick leave every time her period came.

  “How could anyone ever get used to something like that?” I recalled A-Ta's flushed face and the forced smile he put on, feeling a surge of frustration. “He must have such a terrible impression of our Hsinchu Girls’ High School now. Next time I see him, I have to properly apologize to him.”

  “You really meddle too much,” Xiao Qing said, checking her watch with an air of authority. “In three minutes, we have our Ancient Literary Masterpieces and Fundamentals of Culture exams. Maybe you should worry more about your own future at Chiao Tung University first!”

  As it turned out, it seemed like heaven had heard my indignation.