School went by in a slow blur, each bell forcing one lesson into another. Although my brain still whirled with the strangeness of it all, the other children went about as if nothing unusual had happened — and that did make things easier somehow. If everyone else was okay, then so could I.
We started with Math. Teacher Gao paced back and forth in front of the whiteboard, marker clacking in his hand. "Today we finish quadratic equations," he announced, his voice sharp and somewhat stern. He wrote down an example, turned around, and looked around the room for hands. The class huddled forward; pencils scritched. I scribbled along with them, each line making sense and well known, and for a little while my mind seemed like it was my own again — keen and in working order. As Jiahao stood up and finished the last step with a grin, the room echoed with quiet applause. I grinned, relishing the beauty of his carefree confidence.
There was English with Teacher Chen, who started each lesson with a question. "Describe a place where you feel most yourself," she said with a smile. Yating offered to volunteer, sketching out an imaginary picture of a seaside café in elegant English that made half the class groan with jealousy. I listened, and when questioned, answered curtly but replied hesitantly. Chen laoshi smiled. "Good vocabulary, Lihua. Keep practicing," she added, and inside me, something folded away, small but solid.
Biology with Teacher Wang was hands-on. He circulated the slides and microscopes, his voice charged with the kind of excitement that made cells and tissues sound like the players in a drama. "Study the plant cells carefully," he commanded. "Observe the cell wall and chloroplasts." I looked through the lens and could not help but be fascinated by the small green worlds; for a moment the aliens of my confusion fell away and wonder ruled.
The bell released us at noon. Lunch was a frantic game of decisions. The cafeteria buzzed; children stood in knots, exchanging snacks and ordering. Jiahao and Yating acted as brokers, negotiating who would order for the group. "What do you want?" Jiahao asked me, already navigating on the delivery app on his phone.
I read the menu and my friends. "Surprise me," I said to them, because choosing had seemed like one more decision I could just forego for the moment. They smiled and got rice with vegetables stir-fried and a couple of sticks — and the discussion entwined itself around food, class rumors, and viral dances.
"Are you sure you're feeling well today?" Yating asked softly while we ate beneath the magnolias. Her tone carried that subtle edge that told me she was reading me better than anyone else ever had. "You're silent than usual today."
"I'm fine," I lied with a shrug. "Just tired." My tone wasn't quite convincing, but their faces relaxed in worry and they didn't push it further.
The afternoon trundled by happily: History with Teacher Li in which we debated the reasons behind a grand reform, and PE with Coach Zhao who timed us until we laughed and moaned in equal measure. Little victories — being correct, beating a race with friends — kept the day together, proof that I could do this part.
When the final bell rang, my friends insisted that they take pictures. "Come on, this should be done before we go home," Jiahao said, extracting his camera from his backpack. We posed for the school fountain, smiling and leaning our heads towards the light. Yating pulled out her phone for a quick TikTok trend and we complied, goofy but excited. Hundreds of photos and short videos later, we shared some of the best ones to our timelines.
Within minutes, my phone was buzzing with notifications. Likes, comments, and heart symbols overwhelmed the screen. "So cute!" one wrote. "Where's the gala dress?" another teased. Every ping felt like a little anchor keeping me moored to this world — proof that, outwardly at least, everything was okay.
As we walked toward the school gates, there were already three shiny vehicles parked at the curb. Uncle Chen was beside me, always patient, his hands clasped behind him in a neat fold. Yating's driver waved from a shining white sedan, and Jiahao's chauffeur lounged against a navy-colored SUV, swiping on his phone. It was as if it had always been this way — no buses or bicycles, but cars and drivers waiting to drive us home.
"See you tomorrow!" Jiahao grinned, entering his car.
"Don't forget to practicing our dance trend tonight!" Yating yelled, entering hers.
I smiled as Uncle Chen held the door open for me. "Miss, ready to go home?"
"Yes," I replied, entering the cool leather seat, the city already sparkling outside.
As the others' cars drove out behind mine, I settled into the seat, phone buzzing once again with likes and comments. This life was dazzling, glittering, full of routines and expectations — and for the very first time, I half believed I could belong here.
Yet, with the gentle purr of the engine, there lurked a shadow of doubt. Two weeks to the gala. Two weeks before I was thrown into a world that was never truly mine to start with.
But for now, I let the car take me away, likes and laughter falling behind me.