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Ren’s next-door flatmate is a strange girl.
She goes to Ren’s school, but based on the color of her tie and the fact that Ren has never seen her in any of her classes it seems she’s in the grade below her. She always leaves her flat early and comes home late. Her hair is dark and always messed up, with teal highlights and cut just below her shoulders, and her bangs almost cover her eyes. She plays the cello, and Ren only knows this because she keeps hearing the sound through the very thin walls, and it had taken her a long time to figure out what instrument it was until the one time she had to wake up early to study for a physics test and she saw the girl hauling a guitar-shaped apparatus that was twice her size down the narrow corridors of the building. She only ever wears black pleated skirts, even outside of school, and all of them are end at the mid-thigh even though she seldom wears stockings. She’s always looking down at her feet, at the ratty pair of black chunky boots that are falling apart at the seams that she probably got from her older sister that sometimes drops her off.
Ren thinks she’s the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. Actually, the word pretty doesn’t even begin to encapsulate that girl. Beautiful only barely scratches the surface of her looks. Her family must have been blessed by Idrila themselves.
Needless to say, Ren has been observing her for a while. Ren has never asked her for her name or to walk to school with her. She doesn’t know how she’ll react. Besides, it’s not like Ren’s the most amiable person in school anyway. Kafka’s drilled it into her that she doesn’t look the part, and certainly doesn’t act it either. Her black, dollar-store lipstick and multiple piercings had gotten her bullied for about a week before she smashed someone’s head in for it and had to be suspended for two weeks. Both her constant fighting and refusal to adhere to the dress code via heavy eyeliner and insistence on wearing her trackpants under the skirt would continually get her sent to the disciplinary office, something that wasn’t privy to anyone with how much it was announced over the intercom. She used to get into fights about every week, and she still had the scars littering her arms and knuckles to prove it. While it might be true that she doesn’t really fight that much now, instead preferring to lose herself in the realms of the thick, abstract poetry books that her cousin had bought her in her absence, but she had a reputation that followed her like a hawk. No way that small, mousy girl would even want to associate with her.
She didn’t know what drew her to that girl anyway. Maybe it was her piercing jade-green eyes that shone with determination whenever she heaved that cello case down the hall. Maybe it was the strangely cute pout on her face whenever she couldn’t wrangle the lock open. Or maybe it was just because she looked odd, and Ren liked odd people.
But it was no use if she could never talk to her. She never saw her at school anyway, so watching her from the small window in the sitting room of her apartment was the only look at her strange, odd, yet somewhat fascinating neighbour.
At least until Ren could muster up the courage to talk to her.
Ren hates Mondays. She hates this Monday in particular because she has a functions test today that she had studied all night for and still didn’t understand half the content of. She’s going to kill Mr. Welt if he makes this anything unlike the study guide he had created. His last few tests had been demonic, and Ren’s average had dropped from a perfect ninety-three to an eighty-five. Which she supposed was okay—it was a hell of a lot better than what she had last year—but still, she needed at least a ninety if she even wanted to be considered for her mechanical engineering program’s early admission.
She had even woken up early to study, but after another unsuccessful hour of staring at her textbook and still understanding nothing written in it, she decides that it would be more use just going to school and trying to weasel answers out of Kafka. So what if it hadn’t worked the last two times she’d tried? Third time’s the charm.
The air is cool and crisp as she steps out of her apartment, locking the door behind her. Winter’s on its way, and she absentmindedly wondered if her neighbour would start wearing tights. She contemplated doing up the second button of her shirt, but ultimately decided against it. It was too early in the year for that anyway, and she did want to stick it to the disciplinarian.
Ren takes out her phone, scrolling through the online lessons that her teacher posted. The longer she looks at them, the less they make sense. She sighs. If she gets a fifty on this test, it won’t drop her mark that much, right…?
She smashes her hand into the elevator. Knowing Mr. Welt, he’ll make this entire test on questions he could have only pulled from Nanook’s asshole. She prays to whichever Aeon is listening that he’s sick, or absent, or his car breaks down on the way to school, or he loses the tests before class starts—
Her list of inconveniences to give her math teacher is cut off by the ding! of the elevator coming up. She steps in, heaving a sigh like she’s a soldier about to go to war, which is essentially what Welt’s math class is. She’s just about to press the button for the ground floor when she hears a slightly warbled voice yelling:
“Hold the door!”
Ren snaps out of her terror-via-math-induced stupor to press the button that opens the door, then immediately pushes the other button once the doors start closing. She keeps her eyes trained on her phone, but waits to see a pair of…very familiar, ratty black boots enter the elevator before pushing the button to the ground floor.
…Is it really her?
It has to be. She knows what those boots look like. She slowly tears her gaze away from her phone, looking at the panel telling them what floor they’re at. Floor 28. They have time. The opportunity is right here. The chance to talk to this girl who’s been plaguing Ren’s afternoons. She opens her mouth to say something, anything, but she finds she doesn’t need to, because the other girl breaks the ice for her anyways.
“You also go to Xianzhou Academy?”
God, even her voice is beautiful. It’s light and lilting, like the breeze on a warm summer day. Ren thinks she could just faint in this elevator right now. She turns to look at the girl’s waiting face and meets those sharp green eyes that are more familiar than her own name. She looks even more beautiful up close. Ren’s breath hitches in her throat as she mumbles an answer. “Yeah.”
The girl glances down at Ren’s chest—at her tie, not anywhere else, Ren, you disgusting perverted freak—before saying, “You’re in the year above me. Eleventh?”
It’s less of a question and more of a statement. “Yeah,” Ren repeats. What else does she say?
It’s quiet again. Ren is wracking her brain, thoughts of her math test gone as she frantically tries to remember some of the conversation starters her therapist had taught her two weeks ago. But this girl, in addition to being strikingly gorgeous, is also her guardian angel, because she starts speaking again:
“I like your makeup.”
Ren’s stomach churns with something that may not be the pure horror of anyone else who wasn’t this pretty girl saying that to her. “Thanks,” she chokes out. Then, before she can think, “Y-You’re also really pretty.”
Fuck. The girl’s eyes widen, and then soften just a fraction as she offers up a small smile. “Thank you. It’s…Ren, right? I’ve heard about you.”
I’ve heard about you. She can’t even say something like maybe she heard the good parts because what good parts were there about having a reputation as a violent delinquent?
Maybe she’s into that, a devilish voice that sounded suspiciously like Kafka whispered in her head. She quickly bats it away.
“Only good things, I hope,” Ren tries to joke. And as all her jokes do, it comes out sounding flat, deadpan, and almost sarcastic. But it seems to work, because the girl’s smile perks up a little bit more.
“You could say that,” she says. “I personally think it’s cool.”
The elevator dings again and opens to the main lobby. Ren gestures for Dan Heng to go first only to receive the same gesture in return. “You first,” Ren mumbles. The girl shakes her head.
“You got the door for me, so it’s only fair.”
She wants to protest but the sharp stare in the girl’s eyes makes it apparent that she won’t back down from this. Sighing, she walks through the door, and the girl walks out behind her.
They make it out of the door before falling into step with each other. The air is silent for all of three seconds before the girl starts talking about her math class and how she barely understands a thing and Ren shudders upon remembering her own math test.
“Functions is even worse,” Ren warns, “So don’t take this for granted like I did.”
The girl chuckles, laugh ringing clear like bells by the ocean. “If you say so.”
For the rest of the walk, Ren complains about her courses and how much her teachers and the disciplinarian are out to get her, and the girl listens, occasionally chiming in with a wry quip. Ren’s embarrassed to admit that it makes her ears flush.
It’s almost instantaneous, the way they click. It feels like they’ve known each other for ten years rather than just ten minutes, making lighthearted banter and joking like they’re childhood friends. It’s only when they reach the school does the conversation subside slightly. They make it to the courtyard when the pretty girl shifts on her feet, fiddling with the strap of her bookbag. “My class is this way,” she says.
Ren points in the opposite direction. “Mine is over there.”
“I guess this is where we say goodbye.”
And then what? Ren wants to ask. Is she supposed to just go another two months without talking to this girl, only ever staring at her through the window like a creep? Hell no. This girl is kind and funny and she seems sweet and—Aeons, Ren doesn’t even know her name.
The girl is starting to walk off. Ren spins around and grabs her by the shoulder so they’re facing each other again. Those jade eyes are filled with confusion, surprise, and something else Ren can’t pinpoint.
“I, uh…” Ren fumbles for her words, “I never got your name.”
“Oh.” The girl blushes, her cheeks dusted a light pink, and Ren has the sudden, indescribable urge to squish them.
Ew.
Putting that aside.
She refocuses her attention on the girl, who still hasn”t responded. For a second, Ren worries if she came off too strong, but the other girl starts speaking again. “Sorry, I should’ve mentioned it sooner. My name’s Dan Heng. It’s…It’s nice to meet you, Ren.”
“Dan Heng,” Ren says slowly. It rolls off her tongue. Then, as if she hasn’t already fucked up enough, she blurts out, “Let’s walk together again tomorrow.”
Dan Heng’s eyes are blown wide at the suggestion, but before Ren can take it back, she hastily nods. “Sure. Then, can I…” She trails off, still clutching the strap of her bag. She fiddles with it for a second before saying, “Can I get your number? S-So that I can know when to leave the house.”
If Ren was anyone else, she would have jumped for joy and overcome the chronic ache in her joints to do three backflips in a row, running off pure dopamine. But she is the ever so stoic Ren, so she just smirks, hands her phone to Dan Heng and says, “Sure. Put your number in, princess.”
Apparently the dopamine can’t make her do backflips, but it can make her flirtatious. Dan Heng’s entire face goes cherry red, and she looks down at Ren’s phone in embarrassment. “Don’t call me that,” she mumbles, shoving her phone into Ren’s chest.
“Whatever you say.”
“I’m serious,” she scolds, but it would be more intimidating if she weren’t a whole head and a half shorter than Ren. “Anyways. I’ll…I’ll see you tomorrow, Ren.”
Ren is about to respond before the intercom system buzzes loudly, the droning voice of the disciplinarian coming on. “Attention all students, You have five minutes before your period starts. I repeat, you have five minutes before the period starts.”
Shit. She’s going to be late. She immediately turns on her heel, sprinting down corridors and up three flights of stairs, down the hallway to her classroom.Ren barely manages to make it into her class and to her seat before the bell rings. Welt gives her a stern look as he hands out her test, but, as cliche as it sounds, she feels like she’s floating.
After the period ends, as she walks out of the classroom she is damn near sure she failed that test, but her heart feels lighter than it has in weeks.
“See you tomorrow, Ren,” Dan Heng’s voice keeps echoing in her head.
Maybe she hated Mondays, but this Tuesday was looking a lot more tolerable.
When Dan Heng comes home that night, her sister is already on the couch, a book in hand and a cup of tea on the table. She sets her bag down and walks over, cuddling up next to Dan Feng, who wraps an arm around her shoulders.
“How was school today?”
Usually Dan Heng would respond with some iteration of “fine” and then try and change the subject, but today she took a while to respond.
“I made a friend today.”
She couldn’t see it, but she could instinctively feel the way Dan Feng’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “That’s…that’s wonderful, Dan Heng,” she says carefully, like she’s walking on eggshells. “What’s her name?”
“Her name is Ren. She lives next door, and she also goes to Xianzhou Academy.”
“We’ll have to invite her over sometime. Did you meet her in class?”
“No, she’s older than me. But I talked to her in the elevator today.”
Dan Feng’s eyes widened even more. “You were the one to start talking to her.”
“Yes.” Dan Heng’s eyes glimmer with pride. “It felt really awkward at first, but she’s quite a nice person, jiejie. I think you’d like her.”
“Really? Tell me about her.”
Dan Feng lets her little sister ramble on and on about this mysterious girl next door, and Dan Heng knows she’s only half-paying attention, too tired from her shift at the hospital to direct her full attention to it, but she’s grateful that her older sister is humoring her. When they finally part so Dan Heng can go shower and study, Dan Heng heads off to her room, and only when she is alone does she find herself opening her messages app to see if Ren has sent her anything.
Nothing yet. Dan Heng opens up the chatbox, biting her lip as she types, deletes, and retypes chunks of text. It’s just a text, she tells herself, no need to be nervous.
She’s not that nervous. Sure, she paces around her room obsessively, playing out every possible scenario in her head, throwing herself on the bed and screaming into her pillow so loud she’s surprised Dan Feng hasn’t come running, but she finally, after what feels like hours but was realistically probably ten minutes, sends off something to her first friend.
Dan Heng [9:02 P.M.]
How was your math test?
Ren is typing…