I would have broken the world record for "most pathetic attempt at avoiding another human being" that week if there was one.
I realized I needed distance as soon as Zhou Mingyu's voice—calm, icy, and too close for comfort—repeated in my mind. The space. Space for breathing.
So I took off running.
Literally.
On the first day of avoidance, I woke up at my usual ungodly hour and stared at my alarm clock before yanking the blanket back over my head. There will not be any tutoring in the morning today, Mr Top Student. Lin Chen is currently unavailable.
When Qiao Rui finally woke me up, I had been late for two hours.
"Didn't you promise him six-thirty again?" He asked, peering at me through his bedhead.
I yawned and acted as if I were innocent. Six thirty? I didn't know about it. Someone else had to be responsible.
He just gave me a look that said, "You're dead."
Day two: I discovered that if I left the dorm three minutes earlier than usual, I could cut through the south quad, swing past the gym, and reach class without crossing paths with the library annexe. Genius, right?
Except somehow, he still showed up at my classroom doorway that morning, calm as ever, as if he'd been waiting for me the entire time.
I nearly choked on my water.
Day three: Desperation made me creative. I ducked into a crowd of basketball guys heading toward the cafeteria, using their sheer bulk as camouflage. I kept my hood up, shoulders hunched, like some fugitive on the run.
"Lin Chen," a voice said from right behind me.
I jumped so hard I almost face-planted.
There he was. Not even out of breath. Just standing, gaze sharp and unreadable, as if to say, "What exactly do you think you're doing?"
I bolted.
The problem was that the rumors weren't slowing down.
If anything, my running made it worse.
"Did you see? Lin Chen's always sneaking around lately. Is he meeting Zhou Mingyu in secret?"
"Maybe they fought. Lovers' quarrel?"
"No way—he's totally playing hard to get!"
I wanted to dig a hole so deep I'd pop out in another country.
By Thursday, even the professors had noticed the tension. During group assignments, one of them actually said:
"Zhou Mingyu, you'll take Lin Chen. You two seem inseparable lately."
The class erupted in laughter. I almost cried.
I tried to protest, but Zhou Mingyu just said, "Fine," in that maddeningly calm voice.
And suddenly, my fate was sealed.
After class, I escaped to the rooftop, hoping the autumn wind would clear my head. The view was gorgeous—golden leaves scattered across the quad, students milling about like colorful dots below.
But my brain refused to cooperate.
Why did he say that in the cafeteria? Why defend me at all? Why take the rumors so seriously when he usually ignored everyone?
And most importantly, why the hell did my stupid heart keep beating faster whenever he was around?
"Lin Chen."
I nearly jumped off the roof.
He was there. Standing a few feet away, as if he'd been there the whole time. His shadow stretched long in the afternoon light, his gaze locked on me.
"How—how do you always find me?!" I sputtered.
"You're predictable," he said.
"I'm unpredictable!" I protested. "I've been running from you all week!"
"Yes," he said, stepping closer. "Running. Badly."
I backed up until the railing pressed into my spine. My pulse skyrocketed. "W-what do you want?"
"An answer."
His voice was calm, but it cut straight through me.
"Why are you avoiding me?"
I froze. My throat closed up. "I—I'm not avoiding you! I've just been… busy. Very busy. Extremely busy—"
His gaze didn't waver. Sharp and steady, as if he could see straight through the flimsy excuse.
"You're lying."
I flinched. "S-so what if I am?"
Silence. The wind rustled leaves across the rooftop. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer.
Then he said, quietly, "Do the rumors bother you that much?"
My chest tightened. "Of course they bother me! People are laughing—making up stories—"
"About us."
The words landed heavy, leaving me breathless.
"I think it's not about us," I stammered. "It's about me! I don't want to be the joke of the campus just because you're—"
I bit my tongue.
"Because I'm what?" he asked, voice low.
I looked away, heat crawling up my neck. "...Because you're Zhou Mingyu. You're perfect. Untouchable. And me—"
The words stuck.
And then, to my shock, he stepped closer. Close enough that the faint scent of soap and coffee clung to the air between us.
"You think too little of yourself," he said softly.
My eyes widened.
His gaze held mine, steady, unshakable. For a heartbeat, the world stilled. The wind, the voices below, the chaos in my head—all of it faded.
And then he turned away, breaking the moment.
"Meet me tomorrow. Same time."
I blinked. "W-what? After all this, you're still—"
"Yes," he said firmly. "Avoidance won't change anything."
And with that, he walked off, leaving me trembling against the railing, my heart pounding so loudly I thought it might burst.
That night, Qiao Rui grilled me like a detective.
"So let me get this straight," he said, arms crossed. "You've been avoiding him all week. He cornered you on the roof. And instead of getting mad, he told you to stop running?"
I groaned, burying my face in my pillow. "Don't remind me."
"And then he said, 'You think too little of yourself?'"
"Stop!" I flailed. "Don't say it out loud!"
Qiao Rui's grin was evil. Lin Chen. My friend. You're in deep trouble."
"I know," I moaned.
"Trouble" didn't even begin to cover it.
The next morning, at precisely 6:30, jittery and with bleary eyes, I dragged myself to the annexe.
As usual, he was already there.
However, something felt... different after I sat down. There was more silence. He looked longer. And he didn't instantly pull away when our hands touched as we reached for the same pen.
I didn't either.
My heart pounded. And for the first time, I pondered whether the rumors weren't entirely false.