The streets outside the school gates were already alive with energy.
Every day at noon, when the bell rang and students poured out of classrooms, this place transformed into a miniature festival. Vendors set up their stalls on both sides of the road, shouting out their wares. The air was thick with the aromas of sizzling skewers, fried pancakes, and sweet milk tea.
Ethan Cross walked slowly beside Lila Hart, the mysterious girl he had met only that morning beneath the ginkgo trees. Her presence still felt unreal—like she had stepped out of another world.
The turmoil in his heart had softened since meeting her. For the first time since the diagnosis, he no longer felt suffocated by despair. Hunger, ignored all morning, finally surfaced.
Breaking the silence, he asked, "Why did you skip class?"
Lila tilted her head, feigning innocence. "I didn't skip. I was picking ginkgo leaves."
Ethan gave her a flat look. "Come on, it was clearly class time. Why weren't you in your classroom?"
She grinned. "Our class had P.E."
Ethan fell silent. He hadn't noticed. Too caught up in grief, he hadn't even looked at the sports field earlier. He only remembered how quiet it had been under those ginkgo trees.
"And what about you?" Lila shot back mischievously. "Why did you skip class?"
"I didn't either," Ethan muttered, a little embarrassed. "I asked for leave. I didn't want anyone to see me crying."
He thought he had hidden himself well. Who would have guessed that a girl in a tree would witness his entire breakdown?
Lila studied him for a moment, puzzled, but didn't pry further. Instead, she declared cheerfully, "Then I'll take you to eat something delicious. Food always makes people feel better."
The "delicious food" she spoke of turned out to be fried potatoes.
---
The stall auntie was quick with her knife, slicing potatoes into small chunks before tossing them into sizzling oil. The golden pieces were scooped out, sprinkled with salt, pepper, cumin, chili powder, chopped green onion, and sesame seeds.
The fragrance alone made Ethan's stomach growl.
"Spicy," Lila instructed firmly. "Fried potatoes only taste good if they're spicy." She grinned and asked for extra chili.
Ethan swallowed nervously. He could handle spice, but she was clearly on a different level.
"I'll get us drinks," Lila chirped as the potatoes cooked. "Coke or Pepsi?"
"Coke," Ethan answered after a pause. The fizz sounded good.
Soon, the two of them were sitting on marble steps nearby, balancing paper trays of steaming potatoes and cups of Coke.
The auntie had been generous with the chili. Ethan's tongue burned almost immediately, his forehead damp with sweat. Lila fared no better, her cheeks flushed pink as she gulped down Coke between bites.
She was still smiling, though—eyes bright, as if spice was just another adventure.
Then she turned to him suddenly. "Tell me your sad story."
Ethan blinked at her. "Are you trying to rub salt in my wounds?"
She shook her head, biting on her straw. "No. If you talk about it, maybe it won't feel so heavy anymore."
Her profile in the sunlight looked soft and unguarded, her eyes so clear it was impossible to doubt her sincerity.
Ethan hesitated, then sighed. "When I graduated from primary school, I was twelve. That summer, my dad said our whole family would take a trip to the seaside. I'd never seen the ocean before. I was so excited I packed my bags that night, couldn't sleep."
Lila's eyes widened. "Wow, your dad is so nice. I've never been to the ocean either."
Ethan's smile was bitter. "But when I woke up the next morning… they were already gone. It turned out when my dad said 'the whole family,' he didn't mean me."
Lila froze, stunned into silence. The cheerful atmosphere cracked.
Searching for something to do, she speared a piece of potato and held it to his lips. "Here. Try mine."
Ethan blinked at her. "Aren't they the same?"
"No. This one is special—because I'm feeding you."
Her eyes shone with a childlike frankness. Ethan felt heat rush to his face. He accepted the potato. It was just as spicy as his own, but somehow a hint of sweetness lingered in his chest.
---
He swallowed hard and went on. "When I was fourteen, I placed first in the entire grade. The school held a parent-teacher conference, and the teachers wanted my parents to speak on stage, to share their experience. But my dad told my mom to go, and my mom told my dad to go. In the end… neither of them came."
His voice cracked.
"That afternoon, I sat there alone while other students' parents clapped and cheered. My test papers were almost perfect, but there was no one to celebrate with me. I've never felt so humiliated. Like I was abandoned by heaven itself."
He paused, blinking back tears. "Even now, with this illness, I don't know who to tell first—my dad or my mom. Maybe neither would care."
He hadn't told anyone this before. Not Ryan, not Emily. But with Lila, the words spilled out.
Her lips trembled as she whispered, "Ethan… you're having a nosebleed!"
Startled, he touched his face. Sure enough, blood trickled from his nose.
"I'm sorry!" Lila fumbled in her pocket, pulling out tissues. "It must be from the potatoes, too spicy."
Gently, she cupped the back of his head, dabbing carefully at the blood. Her touch was soft, cautious, full of care. Ethan closed his eyes. A warmth spread through him, as though her fingertips were seeping into his skin, dissolving the bitterness he carried.
When the bleeding stopped, he gave her a small smile. "Thanks. But… it's not from the potatoes. I've been having nosebleeds for months."
Her expression clouded with worry. Without a word, she pulled out a wad of bills from her pocket. After quickly counting, she stuffed most of it into his hand.
"I'll keep just enough for bus fare. The rest is for you. Buy something tasty. Whenever I'm sad, eating makes it easier. You should try it too."
Ethan stared at the money, then at her earnest face, and laughed softly. "In this world, there are two things that shouldn't be wasted—love, and good food. But I'm the guy here. I'll treat you."
"No way!" she protested, pouting adorably. "Today I'm treating. Next time, when I'm the one who's sad, you can treat me."
"Alright, deal. I'm not the type to stand on ceremony," Ethan said with a grin.
---
The potatoes finished, they continued exploring the street. Lila skipped lightly at his side, her skirt fluttering. She really did look like a butterfly dancing in sunlight.
Every few steps, she stopped, transfixed by some new snack. Her eyes shone, her lips parted, and Ethan couldn't help but laugh at her excitement.
They ate lamb skewers fresh off the grill, pancakes stuffed with green onion, steaming oden, and spicy hot pot. Lila ate with enthusiasm, savoring every bite like it was the best thing in the world.
When her money ran out, Ethan bought her a strawberry milk tea. He was too full to drink more, but he enjoyed watching her delight.
"Wow!" Lila's voice rang out, loud enough to turn heads. "Ethan, this is amazing!"
He chuckled. "Keep your voice down. Don't act like you've never seen the world before."
She ignored him, thrusting the cup toward his mouth. "Here, try some."
He frowned at the straw, already bearing her teeth marks. "How am I supposed to try that?"
Unbothered, Lila pulled out a second straw from her pocket with a flourish. "I asked for an extra earlier."
With a quick motion, she stuck it in. "Now, drink."
Ethan hesitated. Sharing milk tea from the same cup was something couples did. She couldn't mean it like that… right?
But her eyes were so clear, so earnest, he couldn't refuse.
He took a sip. Sweet, creamy strawberry filled his mouth, leaving a lingering aftertaste. Ordinary milk tea—but somehow, it felt different.
Lila grinned. "Good, right?"
Ethan looked at her, his chest tight with something he didn't want to name.
"Ethan," she said suddenly, her voice serious, "I guess we're friends now. Right?"
He blinked, then smiled. "Of course. You're the first new friend I've made here."
She nodded solemnly, but there was a flicker in her eyes he didn't understand. The first friend.
What exactly did she mean?