The rehearsal hall smelled of floor wax and nervous energy. For the "Seven Stars," the Annual Day wasn't just a school tradition—it was another arena to conquer.
"Left, right, pivot, and strike!" I called out, my voice echoing against the high mirrors.
I was in my element. As a silver medalist in karate, my movements were sharp, precise, and powerful. But today, I wasn't fighting; I was choreographing the group's final dance performance. To my left, Mei Ling moved like water, her years of dance training making my sharp movements look like poetry. On my right, Jia Yi kept perfect rhythm, her athlete's stamina from throwball keeping her energized while others began to flag.
"Xiao Xing, have mercy," Lin Chen groaned, leaning against a ballet barre with his sketchbook open. He hadn't moved a muscle in twenty minutes. "My brain is fluent in four languages, but my feet only speak 'sit down.'"
"Get up, Lin Chen!" Su Lan snapped, though she looked equally disinterested as she leaned against the wall, flipping through a coding manual. "If the 'Seven Stars' mess up the formation, the teachers will never let us hear the end of it. My 'IDGAF' attitude has limits, and public embarrassment is one of them."
I laughed, wiping sweat from my forehead with my sleeve. "Five more minutes of the chorus, then we can break for Zhang Wei's snacks."
At the mention of food, Zhang Wei beamed. He had been practicing his drama lines in the corner, but he'd also brought a container of homemade almond cookies. "I used a new recipe! Extra butter for the hard workers."
Then, there was Li Yan.
He was standing near the sound system, looking like he'd rather be facing a grandmaster in a five-hour chess match than standing on a stage. He hated dancing. It was the one thing he couldn't solve with a line of code or a strategic gambit.
"Your turn, Li Yan," I said, walking over to him. My heart was thumping harder than the bass in the speakers. "You have to join the center formation for the finale."
"It's illogical," he muttered, his eyes fixed on the floor. "The group already has six capable dancers. My presence adds nothing to the visual symmetry."
"It's not about symmetry, it's about the seven of us," I countered, stepping closer. I could see the slight furrow in his brow—the one he got when he was losing at chess. "You're the Class President, remember? Or are you admitting you're defeated by a simple four-count beat?"
His eyes snapped to mine. The competitive spark I loved—and feared—ignited.
"Defeated? Please. I just find it inefficient."
"Prove it then." I held out my hand.
For a second, the noisy rehearsal hall went silent in my head. He looked at my hand, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached out and took it. His palm was cool, his grip firm.
"One, two, three, four," I counted softly.
We moved together. For someone who claimed to hate it, he was focused. He watched my feet, mimicking my steps with the same intensity he used to debug a program. We were inches apart. I could smell the faint scent of mint on him.
"You're overthinking it," I whispered, our eyes locking in the mirror. "Just follow my lead."
"I don't follow, Xiao Xing," he said, a ghost of a smirk appearing on his face. "I calculate."
Behind us, the rest of the group started cheering. Jia Yi whistled, and Mei Ling started clapping to the beat. We were the "Elite Squad," the mischievous toppers who owned the school, and in that moment, I let myself believe that maybe—just maybe—he was looking at me the way I looked at him.
But as the music ended and he immediately dropped my hand to check his watch, the cold reality returned.
"Ten minutes over schedule," he said, turning back to the boys. "Let's eat so we can get back to the physics lab. The Board Exams won't wait for our dance moves."
My hand felt cold the moment he let go. I turned away, hiding the small, sad smile on my face by pretending to fix my shoelaces.
I was a silver medalist in karate. I knew how to take a hit. But I didn't know that the biggest blow was still months away, waiting in the form of a "prank" that would change everything.