If We Had Never Met

Chapter 4: His Words Were Like Spells

Aelia grew even more silent than before， moving between classrooms， the dining hall， and the library like a true ghost， utterly soundless. She no longer went to the basketball court， nor did she chase after that figure in the corridors. Even if she spotted him from afar on the path， she would immediately turn away and slip into another lane.

She wanted to wean herself off him， as if quitting a deadly addiction.

‘Have you heard? During the midterms， Ethan went off-topic in his essay and only scored 32 points. His form tutor is furious. More importantly， he finished his maths paper half an hour early.’

After school， dusk bathed the entire teaching block in orange-yellow light. By the time Aelia finished her cleaning duties， it was nearly six o'clock. Packing her bag， she headed to the only hot-water tap still functioning on the top floor to fill her flask. At the staircase corner， she overheard two girls gossiping about Ethan.

‘b****y hell， he got top marks in the year for going off-topic in his essay? How's anyone supposed to compete?’

‘Heard his form teacher made him copy that exemplary essay they handed out today ten times. He's not allowed to leave until he's finished.’

‘Oh， you mean the one written by that girl in Class 10? What was her name again?’

‘Who cares? Our Ethan's the one who's truly suffering.’

‘Their Ethan.’ A pebble seemed to be tossed into Aelia's heart， sending out faint ripples. She walked past the two girls and climbed the stairs to the sixth-floor water dispenser room.

After filling her kettle， she suddenly noticed a harsh glow seeping from the dilapidated storage room opposite the water dispenser. Instinctively， she peered through the gap in the poorly sealed door.

Just that glance made her heart skip a beat.

The storage room was unlit. In the dim， yellowish light， a boy sat at a discarded desk， hands cradling a gaming console. His delicate yet spirited features were the face she had stolen glances at countless times from afar， sketching it endlessly in her mind.

But how could such a model student be secretly playing games?

‘What are you doing?’

The head of discipline suddenly appeared， his sharp command making her jump. Hot water spilled from her thermos onto her hand， causing her to cry out in pain. Yet instinctively， she took a step forward， blocking the storeroom door completely behind her.

‘The building's being cleared. Why aren't you going home?’

‘Sir， I've just finished my duties. I'll be off now.’ She explained， yet remained firmly rooted to the spot.

‘Still not leaving?’ The head of discipline frowned.

‘Sir， I spilled the water I'd just collected. I'll wait a moment longer， just until this kettle boils. I'll leave once I've filled it.’ She glanced at the display of the water dispenser.

‘Very well， then make sure you head home soon.’ The head of discipline， no longer suspicious， gave her a parting reminder before turning and descending the stairs.

Only after watching the head of discipline's figure disappear did Aeliaexhale a long breath. Why had she helped him? What if someone checked the surveillance footage one day? How would she explain it?

‘Hey， mate.’ Just as she was lost in thought， a hand suddenly tapped her shoulder from behind.

She turned to find herself face to face with a radiant smile—this was the first time she'd been so close to him， seeing his features clearly: his skin was pale， beneath slender brows， amber eyes sparkled with a bright light.

“Thanks for earlier.

He looked at her， his gaze drifting to her right arm holding the books. After a pause， he continued，“I'm sorry about last time. I need to explain.

Since I didn't know your name， and I urgently needed something I couldn't get from home， I struck a deal with Olivia.“

‘Your name is... Aelia， right? From Class Sixteen?’

She felt a flicker of nervousness， nodded， and replied in a slightly trembling voice，‘Yes， Aelia.’

A hint of surprise flashed in the boy's eyes before he exclaimed，‘You're Aelia? I forgot to ask your name last time. Let me introduce myself—I'm Ethan from Class Nine.’

‘You're Aelia?’ His words and clear gaze made her unsure whether this was reality or illusion.

She suddenly realised she seemed unable to quit.

‘That essay you wrote nearly killed me copying it.’

‘Eh?’ She snapped back to awareness， suddenly unsure how to respond.

The boy continued immediately，“Are you heading home? Shall we walk together?“

‘Alright...’

‘How did you write such a brilliant essay? I'm absolutely hopeless at them.’ Ethan chattered on， his words unwinding her tension.‘Our teacher made me copy yours ten times today—my hand nearly fell off. Aelia， I'll remember you.’

When he said，‘Elia， I'll remember you，’ her heart gave a sudden flutter， as if touched by a warm hand.

‘Actually， essays aren't that hard to write. Read more books， copy them， and you'll gradually get the hang of it.’

‘Reading books too? That's such a faff.’ The boy hung his head， then suddenly brightened， his eyes sparkling as he looked at her.‘Could I borrow some of the essays you've written before? That way I wouldn't have to read books.’

‘Alright... I'll bring them to you tomorrow.’

‘Great， thanks a lot.’ He gave her a very natural pat on the shoulder， startling her.

She walked alongside him for quite a distance.

‘Why were you playing games in the storeroom?’ After much hesitation， she finally asked.

Ethan glanced at her and chuckled.‘I just want to play games for a bit every day. Teachers won't let me at school， and my parents won't let me at home. So I have to find a place to sneak in some playtime.’

‘But aren't you a good student?’

‘A good student?’ Ethan's smile widened.‘Does getting good grades automatically make you a good student?’

‘Doesn't it?’

‘Good grades do make a difference，’ she mused.‘Students with good marks get the teachers' favour and the respect of their peers. Like you—the teachers are always praising you in our class.’

‘Yeah， I am rather brilliant.’ Ethan suddenly turned his head， raising an eyebrow smugly.‘So you see， good grades really do come in handy. Even when it comes to something as rule-breaking as gaming at school， you feel more confident about it.’

Lin Xu nodded， finding his reasoning quite sound.

‘Do you know what it feels like to come top of the class?’‘ he suddenly asked her， though his tone sounded more like a soliloquy.’That feeling of“I'm the boss， none of you can touch me”? It's b****y brilliant， anyway.“

‘What a cheek，’ Lin Xu thought to herself. Following his gaze towards the faint starlight in the night sky， the long-still waters of her heart suddenly stirred: He said good grades are incredibly useful.“

Back home， Aeliasat at her desk， gathering every exemplary essay she'd written since Year 7. With awkward block letters， she copied them stroke by stroke onto photocopied essay paper， working until midnight. She busied herself all night， her heart pounding with unprecedented intensity and speed.

In the silent darkness， for the first time， she felt her own existence so intensely—accompanied by the drumbeat of her heart and the jumbled fragments of his features pieced together in her mind.

It was as if she’d suddenly discovered a secret guide to victory—a manual that， if followed diligently， would lift her from the depths. She no longer wished to be an invisible， unnoticed presence; she yearned to be the protagonist—a figure as proud， admired， and radiant as he was.

The next day， Aelia handed the essay paper to Ethan. A month passed without him returning to their class. The chaotic clamour of daily life suddenly shrouded in a sense of loss. Yet whenever the bell rang， whenever she opened her exercise book， she felt possessed， her gaze becoming solemn and reverent.

Ethan's words echoed like a spell in her ears:‘Good grades are very useful.’

She no longer wished to be useless， nor to remain an invisible presence. Why did she yearn so desperately to be his friend? Did she truly like him that much? She couldn't pinpoint the reason， yet vividly recalled the pounding of her heart that night as she copied his essay.

The girls in class who were close to Ethan were either top students who shared his exam hall or the bold， outgoing goddesses who'd strike up conversations with him.

She pondered for a moment， concluding she was better suited to aiming for the first category.

At least， relatively speaking.