Chapter 4

I sent my sister away, clutching the envelope, and rushed into my room. I opened the window and stood there, letting the wind blow over me for a long time, but my heart still wouldn’t settle.

I looked at the letter again.

I was absolutely certain it was written by Liam Scott.

After all, my handwriting in high school looked like chicken scratch. My English teacher couldn't stand it and made me use Liam’s homework as a model for my handwriting for an entire semester.

I could recognize his handwriting even if it were burned to ashes.

But, why?

Why would Liam Scott have liked me in high school?

My thoughts drifted, and I remembered the first time I met Liam at the beginning of freshman year.

Back then, I came alone from a small, rural town to a top-ranked city high school.

I was carrying an oversized, worn-out canvas bag that seemed to contain everything I owned.

I couldn’t carry it anymore by the time I reached the school gate, so I just started dragging it.

But I overestimated the quality of that canvas bag.

With immense friction against the ground, the bag ripped.

I walked a long way before realizing the weight felt off. I turned around to see my belongings scattered all along the path.

Books, stationery, toiletries, a lunchbox…

Students around me were watching, laughter constantly echoing.

“Oh my god, a country bumpkin came to the city.”

“That bag is something else, seriously.”

My face turned beet red. I knelt down and started retracing my steps, picking things up.

I hadn’t picked up much when I bumped head-on into a boy walking toward me.

The boy had a backpack, a handsome face, and was quite tall.

He was holding a stack of miscellaneous items and calmly said, “I picked up what was ahead.”

He looked over my shoulder at the ripped bag on the ground.

“Do you have any other bags?”

I awkwardly shook my head, barely daring to look at him.

He thought for a moment, took a few books out of his backpack, and handed the backpack to me.

“You can use this for now.”

Confused, I took the boy’s black backpack and looked up blankly.

“How do I give it back to you?”

The boy pointed to the book I had just picked up. “Aren’t you in Freshman Class 3 too?”

I froze, instinctively looking at his book.

His class and name were on the cover.

Freshman Class 3, Liam Scott.

…

To be honest, I was the one who liked him first.

Unfortunately, that secret crush ended for various reasons.

After graduating from college, I joined a small, obscure company for an internship, only to unexpectedly run into him again.