The students of Class 2A Science were clearly friendly. When Autumn James gave her somewhat "casual" answer, no one minded.
"I'll ask around next time," she added with a small smile. "But yeah, I think they're probably better at track events. I mean, they train running every day."
"In that case, I'd better avoid signing up for sprints."
"Hah! As if we could ever beat anyone outside of our class."
Someone's joke drew laughter from all around.
"So what? You've gotta have confidence in life! What if we actually win?"
Autumn couldn't help but smile at the warm, easygoing atmosphere.
Back in her old Liberal Arts Class A, there had been moments like this too—but she'd always sat quietly to the side, pretending to read, too afraid to join in.
"Hey, are you guys signing up for the twenty-person twenty-one-leg race?" Summer Lin asked curiously as she took the registration form from White Miller.
At the mention of a group event, the class immediately buzzed with excitement.
"Of course! It sounds fun! Last year our class got long-rope jumping—it was so boring."
"Same here! We got the drum-and-flower relay, total snooze. I've always wanted to try the twenty-one-leg race."
Summer laughed along with them. Then, spotting Autumn sitting quietly, she asked brightly, "What about you, Autumn? You joining?"
Autumn smiled and shook her head. "I'll pass. I don't have any experience with group events. I'd just slow everyone down."
Summer frowned in protest. "Hey, don't say that! The sports festival's all about having fun. As long as we're enjoying ourselves, that's what matters!"
"Come on, join with me, okay? Everyone else is signing up with their desk mates—don't leave me all alone!"
Autumn hesitated.
She had once wanted to join group events too—she thought it would bring her closer to her classmates.
But back then, after just a few practices, she realized she always messed up—again and again, in unexpected ways.
It made everyone unhappy, including herself. Eventually, she'd withdrawn from the event.
Later, she accidentally overheard Anna Hawthorne chatting with someone and found out that every single "mistake" she made had been secretly sabotaged by her.
Even though she was in a different class now, those old mocking words still echoed in her mind.
After a long pause, Autumn opened her mouth to refuse again—
—but Summer's eyes sparkled mischievously. She grabbed Autumn's hand and started to plead.
"Please go with me, okay? It's not fun alone! I won't have a partner for practice otherwise."
Seeing Autumn's resolve soften, Summer quickly turned to the sheet and wrote both their names down before she could protest.
Autumn hesitated for a second but didn't object.
She glanced at the friendly, encouraging faces around her.
Maybe… maybe this time it would be different.
Satisfied, Summer filled in the names and stood up excitedly.
"Anyone else signing up for the sports festival? Group events, individual events—come on, don't miss it!"
Her enthusiasm actually drew someone over—but not to sign up.
A student stopped in front of Autumn's desk.
"Autumn James, someone's looking for you outside."
Autumn looked up at the messenger, then followed their gaze toward the door.
Standing there was a familiar figure—tall, straight-backed, with a stern expression.
Ethan James.
What was he doing here?
Ethan stood at the doorway, his head still throbbing faintly. He didn't even know why he'd come—only that something inside him insisted he needed to see Autumn.
He had to ask her face-to-face where she'd been last night. Why hadn't she come home?
The students recognized him immediately—the star senior of Class 3A Science.
But none of them expected him to show up here, looking for Autumn.
They… knew each other?
All eyes turned toward Autumn.
She met Ethan's gaze calmly for a few seconds, her expression cool and unreadable.
Then, without a word, she got up and walked outside.
"What do you want?"
Standing in the doorway, hands in her pockets, she looked him straight in the eye.
"Why didn't you come home last night? Do you know that I—"
Ethan's voice rose in anger, but he stopped himself abruptly.
No—he couldn't say he'd waited up all night for her. If Autumn found out, she'd just get smug about it.
He was here to lecture her, not to confess that he'd been worried.
"What?" Autumn raised an eyebrow, clearly not understanding where this was going.
"Nothing. Why didn't you come home? Anna said she saw you at One-Pin Pavilion yesterday. Who was that friend of yours with the VVIP room membership card?"
"Seriously, Autumn—can't you have some self-respect? Just because someone flashes a little membership card, you go off with them? How cheap can you get?"
Ethan's words were sharp, almost thoughtless—his feverish head clearly clouding his judgment.
Once, those words would have cut Autumn deeply.
But now, she merely let out a soft, cold laugh.
"The membership card you mean—the one I put in my bag?" she said, voice calm but laced with sarcasm.
Ethan froze.
A cool breeze blew through the corridor, clearing his foggy mind a little.
"I…"
Color crept up his neck as he frowned, scrambling for an excuse.
"I just thought you weren't using it. It would've gone to waste. Ian Leo just finished his match, so I used it to throw him a little celebration dinner. What's the problem?"
He deliberately mentioned Ian Leo, knowing it would sting. That way, Autumn wouldn't dare make a fuss—after all, she'd had a crush on Ian since childhood.
But Autumn's eyes curved slightly, her lips lifting in a faint smile—without a trace of warmth.
"There is a problem," she said evenly.
"Taking something without permission is stealing. I don't care who you used it for—it's still theft."
She gave him a cold, disdainful look.
"Imagine that—trying to justify stealing."
"How much did you spend yesterday? Transfer the money to me in cash, and I'll pretend this never happened."
Ethan's breathing quickened. He hadn't expected his once-gentle little sister to argue with him like this—over money!
"You—!"
"Fine! I'll transfer it to you," he snapped, his face dark with frustration. "I don't have my phone right now. I'll send it when I get home!"
The encounter had completely thrown him off.
Suppressing his anger, he added coldly, as if scolding a wayward child:
"I don't care what you did last night, but you'd better be home before six this evening! I want to see you there."
"A girl your age—don't you have any sense of dignity or self-respect?"
His tone wasn't loud, but every word dripped with contempt.