Chapter 4: The Night She Fell

"What’s so funny? Is it weird for her to have a boyfriend?"

"Jake, you always ignore gossip, so you don’t know the big news?"

"What news?" I asked.

My friend leaned in, voice low and gross, pointing at her:

"You know why no one likes her? Because her mom’s a hooker, man!"

He stared at Lily’s figure in the sunlight, licking his lips, voice disgusting:

"The daughter of a whore is a whore too. If she didn’t have that disease, I’d have had her already! That body, that voice..."

Before he could finish, I punched him in the face.

"What’s wrong with you?!"

I punched him again, over and over.

"Watch your damn mouth!"

The hallway erupted—some screamed, some ran to tell the teacher. My childhood buddy tried to pull me off:

"Jake! Stop!"

The fight ended with me being called to the office.

The teacher asked why I hit him. Still angry, I spat:

"He said Lily was... he knows what he said! Why slander someone for no reason!"

My anger faded under the teacher’s calm gaze, and in that moment, I understood why she was always alone, why she kept her distance, why she pretended not to know me...

She’d heard the rumors and knew that in this big school, no one would help her.

So she chose silence, kindly keeping her distance.

The teacher sipped coffee and asked.

"What’s your relationship with Lily Barnes?"

I clenched my fists, then let go weakly:

"Nothing. I don’t know her."

In the end, my mom came to scold me, paid compensation, apologized, then rushed back to work.

By the time I finished my self-reflection, it was dusk, and the campus was empty.

I left the office and saw her.

She had her bag on, quietly standing in the hallway.

When she saw me, she walked off. Without thinking, I followed.

Just like before, she led the way and I followed—a silent agreement between us.

Lily led me through the campus, finally up to the top of the school building.

On the top floor, she stopped, took a key from her pocket, and quickly unlocked the door.

I was stunned: "Where’d you get the key?"

To keep people off the roof, the school had locked the door.

Lily calmly put the key away: "—I stole it."

......

I was silent.

This girl was bold—she even dared to steal the rooftop key.

Lily walked to the railing, stretched out her hand, and let the wind blow.

I copied her, looking down at the campus.

The evening breeze carried her words to me:

"Thank you."

"Thank me for what?"

"For standing up for me today..." she lowered her head, voice trembling, "I don’t have a disease... I’m very clean—disease-free. Not what they say."

She started just leaning on the railing, but soon she was crying quietly, shoulders shaking.

Seeing her like that, my chest ached. I walked over and gently put a hand on her thin shoulder.

"If you want to cry, just cry. I won’t laugh at you," I paused, then added, "I know you’re very clean."

Very clean—face, clothes—her soul, too.

Lily finally broke down and sobbed.

After that day, Lily finally admitted I was her friend, even though she still wouldn’t let me approach her at school.