One Glass of Milk Ended Ten Years

Ever since I gained weight during puberty, my childhood friend Chase stopped talking to me on his own initiative.

But on the day of the NYU guaranteed admission interview, he handed me a glass of milk.

I was so touched that I drank it all.

When I woke up, I found my long hair scattered all over the floor.

The head cheerleader, Vivian White, was holding scissors and smiling sweetly:

"Chase, this sleeping pill of yours works really well. I've almost shaved this pig bald."

Meeting my disbelieving eyes, Chase only said indifferently:

"Vivian lost at Truth or Dare. If she didn't cut your hair, she'd have to add random guys on SnapChat on the street."

"You're fat anyway. You don't look good with or without hair."

The person who once said he'd marry me when my hair reached my waist had changed.

That day I dried my tears.

And quietly changed my guaranteed admission choice to Oxford University, thousands of miles away.

The head in the mirror looked like it had been gnawed by a dog.

My carefully maintained long hair now stuck up in tufts here, bald patches there.

Ugly and ridiculous.

My hand holding the comb was shaking badly.

With just a light brush, broken strands kept falling.

Mixed with my unstoppable tears, they fell into the sink.

It felt like my heart was being torn open.

I really wanted to rush out and demand answers from Chase.

Why exactly did he use my hair to pay for Vivian's game?

But the interview was about to start.

I bit my lip hard.

I couldn't go out like this.

My trembling hands tried to press down the standing hairs, tried to pull the remaining long hair from the back forward to cover it.

But it was all futile.

The person in the mirror looked wretched and laughable.

Like a complete clown.

"Hey, did you hear? Vivian actually cut that fat pig Evelyn's hair!"

Suddenly the sound of several girls laughing came from outside the stall.

My whole body stiffened, and I shrank miserably into the innermost stall.

"Really?"

"Of course it's real! To make sure Vivian got the guaranteed admission, Chase even went to buy sleeping pills to put in the milk. Otherwise, how could Evelyn have slept so deeply?"

"Oh my god, Evelyn is pretty pathetic though."

"Pathetic? She's a fat pig who doesn't know her place, insisting on liking Chase and blocking Vivian's path to guaranteed admission. She deserves it!"

"Exactly. How dare a pig like the baseball team captain? Everyone knows Chase and Vivian have been a couple for ages. He only humors that fat pig because of their families' relationship."

"It's hilarious just thinking about it. She actually thought Chase could be interested in her? She should take a good look at herself in the mirror."

Those undisguised taunts pierced into my ears like needles.

Puncturing my last bit of self-deceiving fantasy.

Separated by only a thin door panel, I slowly slid down to sit on the floor.

I even forgot to cry.

I just felt like my bones had frozen, shivering from the cold.

So that's how it was.

What adolescent sensitivity and caring about appearances.

What maintaining distance in front of classmates.

All lies.

He simply thought I was embarrassing.

Not worthy of him.

So he could easily use my hair to please Vivian.

Could permit or even assist her in destroying the interview I'd carefully prepared for years.

Just to clear obstacles on her path to guaranteed admission.

Countless details from these years floated before my eyes.

When I fell while running, he frowned and said "how can you be so careless," then quickly walked away, leaving others snickering around me.

The breakfast I brought him, he passed to someone else.

When I gathered courage to try walking alongside him after school, he quickened his pace, leaving me far behind.

Every time, I made excuses for myself.

He's under study pressure, he's in a bad mood, boys are all like this...

I was so stupid.

Stupid enough to think that as long as I starved myself to lose weight and got top grades, I could get close to him.

That I could make that gentle childhood promise have even a slight possibility of coming true.

But it turned out.

During every day and night I struggled in pain to be worthy of him.

In his eyes, I was just a pestering fat pig.

He and someone else had been a default couple all along.

My heart felt like it was being violently squeezed by a large hand. It hurt so much I couldn't breathe, yet was so numb not a single tear would flow.

I curled up on the cold, dirty bathroom floor.

The girls outside had long since left. The world was terrifyingly quiet.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a message from Mom:

"Evelyn, how was the interview? Don't be nervous, Mom believes in you."

I looked at those words, my vision blurring then clearing again.

Then, I typed out a reply word by word.

"Mom, go to Chase's house and cancel the engagement."

"But don't let him know yet."

After leaving the bathroom, I didn't go to the NYU interview location. Instead, I turned and walked toward Oxford University's classroom.

When I entered with that ridiculous head, the examiners were clearly taken aback.

I took a deep breath and focused on answering questions.

Perhaps it was my composure, or perhaps the answers themselves.

The examiners' gazes moved away from my hair and turned into approving nods.

"Evelyn, we look forward to seeing you on campus in September."

Walking out of the classroom, my palms were sweaty and my heart raced.

Chase and I had agreed to go to New York together for a long time.

This tacit agreement had once been my motivation to study hard.

But just now, after sending that text to Mom in the bathroom.

I had already decided that my future life plans would no longer include him.

That evening, both families had dinner together.

Mom and Aunt Riley spoke in low voices, then left for the bedroom.

Chase sat across from me, distracted. Finally, he couldn't resist asking:

"How did the interview go?"

I kept my head down. "Pretty good. The professor looks forward to seeing me on campus."

His expression changed. He put down his chopsticks:

"With your grades, getting into NYU is no problem. Why did you have to compete for this guaranteed admission spot? That's too selfish."

Selfish?

I looked at his handsome face and only felt it was absurd. I pulled my lips into a smile.

"My hair was cut like this, and you're still worried my score is higher than hers?"

The boy recoiled as if burned, hastily retorting:

"What do these two things have to do with each other? I was just afraid something would happen to Vivian during their prank."

"She's different from you. She's so prettywhat if she met bad people on the street?"

She's different from you.

Six simple words, yet they made my heart ache so much.

I numbly nodded. Just then Mom and Aunt Riley came back, eyes a bit red.

So I got up to go home with her.

Chase's mind grew more chaotic. He grabbed my wrist and asked:

"What were they just talking about?"

It had been a long time since he'd had physical contact with me.

Probably found it disgusting.

I paused, then pulled my hand back.

"Nothing much."

I looked at his uneasy eyes.

"Probably just worried about our future."

Chase.

We have no future anymore.

The next day at school, when I walked into the classroom, everyone looked at my ridiculous hair.

"Pfftthe pig changed her hairstyle!"

"The fatty's pretty trendy. Got herself a perm hahaha."

Laughter burst from the group of boys.

Chase was among them, pulling his lips into a smile.

When our eyes met, the curve of the boy's mouth froze just like that.

My heart felt like it had been stung by a bee. I looked away and ignored all the voices.

Walked to my seat and took out my textbook.

The bell rang. The homeroom teacher announced one final rotation of class officers.

I walked up to the podium with my ridiculous head.

Throughout, the boys' snickering and mockery below never stopped.

My hands were shaking, but I still firmly delivered my speech from memory without notes.

As I bowed, the homeroom teacher was the first to applaud, and the girls gradually followed.

Just when I was breathing a sigh of relief, Vivian suddenly stood up and walked onto the podium.

She wore a short skirt, her long hair flowing.

A stark contrast to my disheveled state.

Vivian held a piece of scrap paper and casually said a few words about wanting to serve everyone.

She even stumbled in the middle. The girl blushed and stuck out her tongue while the boys below laughed indulgently.

I couldn't laugh.

Voting, vote counting.

Vivian and I had the same number of votes.

The teacher looked at Chase: "Where's your vote? You can't abstain. Cast one more."

The whole class's attention focused on that corner.

Chase pressed his lips together and stood up.

He was tall, his school uniform casually unbuttoned, walking step by step toward the podium.

Sunlight outlined his lean silhouette.

I stared at him, my eyes burning and stinging.

Though I no longer held any hope for him.

A small voice in my heart still whispered.

What if?

What if he remembered elementary school, when he was the one who pushed the crying me onto the podium, when he bought candy and gave it to classmates to vote for me, when he smiled even brighter than me after I was elected, saying "our Evelyn is number one."

What if he still remembered that I once said being class president made me feel not so useless.

The boy walked to the podium and handed the folded note to the teacher.

The teacher unfolded it, glanced at it, and announced:

"Vivian 25 votes, Evelyn 24 votes."

"The new class president is Vivian. Evelyn, do the handover after class."

I sat on the stool for a long time, motionless.

The surrounding sounds faded away, leaving only the dull ache in my heart.

Chase had returned to his seat. He didn't look at me. His profile showed no clear expression.

I lowered my head. Tears fell in large drops onto my textbook.

The girl sitting next to me panicked and kept patting my back to comfort me.

Ten years.

I'd been class president for almost ten years, from needing him to bribe classmates for me to get elected, to later winning recognition through my own ability.

He knew better than anyone what this position meant to me, a fat girl living under strange looks.

It was the little bit of pitiful self-confidence I had carefully constructed.

But he didn't hesitate to pull even that away.

For Vivian.

I was so sad I couldn't even say "I'm fine."

The little boy who bought me candy to win votes had already died in my memories.

The Chase of now was the baseball team captain, a top student, the cheerleading captain's romantic interest.

Just not my Chase anymore.

After school, I went to find Vivian for the handover.

She sat in her seat, undisguised triumph on her face.

"Actually, there's nothing much to hand over."

She leisurely looked in a mirror, not even glancing at me.

"Chase said I'd definitely be fine, told me to boldly run for it."

"I think so too. If even you could be a good class president, then it must be the simplest thing ever."

I picked up my things and turned to leave.

"Evelyn!"

Chase caught up and blocked my way by the wall.

The sunset stretched his shadow very long.

"Just now."

He paused, as if explaining to me was something very difficult to say.

"I didn't deliberately not choose you. It's just that Vivian has never been a class officer. It's almost graduationletting her experience it is like having no regrets in youth."

"Don't overthink it."

I said nothing.

The boy reached out to pull me, but I dodged sideways.

My gaze inadvertently swept past the fitness band on his wrist.

He'd worn it until the edges were frayed.

I remembered it.

Vivian's birthday gift to him last year, a few dollars from the convenience store.

She'd put it on his wrist herself.

And those signature edition sneakers I'd saved several years of New Year's money to buy.

He'd never worn them once.

At this moment, this several-dollar plastic band was firmly circled on his wrist bone.

Glaring as if mocking how all my heartfelt gestures were worthless.

I said nothing and ran home.

After that, Chase seemed to sense something.

When boys pointed at my hair and laughed strangely during breaks, he would actually frown and scold:

"What's so funny? If you're bored, go do practice problems."

When I couldn't find my exam papers, he'd pass his own from behind.

After school he'd also dawdle instead of leaving, as if wanting to wait for me.

Late rain fell on an already cracked heart.

It had no moisturizing effect.

It just felt noisy.

For the last school festival before graduation, each class had to put on a performance.

At Vivian's suggestion, our class would perform a short play with a script she carefully wrote.

When the script was being passed around, I was doing practice problems.

Bursts of laughter came from the class. I seemed to realize something.

When it finally reached my hands.

I understood what they were laughing at.

The protagonist was an obese, shameless, witless high school girl.

Her daily routine was doing all kinds of absurd things to seduce the male lead.

Secretly hiding the male lead's sneakers, deliberately falling when the male lead passed by, imitating the female lead's dress and becoming a laughingstock.

Every line was incredibly ridiculous and despicable.

My whole body trembled.

After class, the boys had no more reservations and laughed loudly.

"Art comes from life."

"Vivian observed so carefully!"

Chase was chosen to play the male lead.

After he got the script, his brows furrowed deeply. He glanced in my direction.

Unable to read anymore, I went to knock on the homeroom teacher's door with red eyes.

She sighed and said the program had already been submitted.

Not knowing what to do, my whole body went cold. I sat at my desk with tears flowing wildly.

That night, I stayed up late writing Chase a long letter.

Using every humble word I could think of, begging him not to perform.

Begging him to leave us with just a bit of dignity at the end.

The next day during rehearsal, I saw him arguing with Vivian in a corner of the hallway.

The boy was frowning.

Vivian pulled on his arm, eyes slightly red, saying something quietly.

A thread of hope ignited in my heart.

Maybe there was still a chance.

On the day of the school festival performance, I sat in the least noticeable corner below the stage, so nervous I wanted to vomit.

Just as I was silently praying,

That ugly character based on me, wearing a messy wig and exaggerated ugly makeup.

Appeared with affected mannerisms.

"Honey, don't get so close to those bad women. My little heart can't take it!"

The audience below laughed like crazy.

People kept looking at me. Some raised their eyebrows and pointed me out to others.

"Look, that's the fatty."

In my most painful moment, Chase and Vivian made their entrance.

A handsome man and beautiful woman, triggering waves of heckling.

"Kiss!"

"Get together!"

People acted on stage.

The audience below was noisy.

But my world was silent.

He still performed.

My face was bloodless as I watched that boy who'd grown up with me, who had once been my whole world, on stage.

My heart felt so empty. Wind passed through it, leaving only coldness.

The performance was very successful.

Vivian beamed on stage.

Chase was distracted, his gaze urgently searching for something in the crowd.

But I had long since left the school.

"Evelyn, where are you?"

"It's just a performance, everyone's going crazy before graduation, don't be so sensitive."

"Answer the phone. Let's talk."

"Evelyn, answer the phone!"

All calls went unanswered.

Chase panicked.

He ran to the office to ask about interview results.

The answer he got was that Evelyn's guaranteed admission was almost certain.

The boy relaxed again.

After the college entrance exam, he performed well. His messages to me became:

"When school starts, we'll go to NYU together and everything will be fine."

"I made a NYU freshman guide. I'll take you to the most famous food streetthey have the Thai crepes you like."

"Evelyn, let's date."

But all messages sank like stones in the sea.

Chase felt uneasy, but he still believed that when September came and school started, everything would get back on track.

He still had four years to coax an angry girl.

Finally, September 1st arrived.

NYU started school. New students were chattering everywhere.

After Chase finished organizing his dorm, he rushed to the girls' dormitory and waited downstairs.

His face was full of anticipation, with a trace of barely noticeable nervousness.

The phone rang a few times.

It connected.

"Hello? Evelyn, where are you? Come downstairs. Let's go to the food street."

Chase tried to relax his tone, acting familiar and natural.

"We haven't seen each other in so long and you didn't look for me."

"But I'm magnanimous. I forgive you."

The other end was very quiet.

After a while, my voice came through, very soft.

But also very clear.

"I didn't apply to NYU."

The boy froze.

"...What?"

"I'm at Oxford University."

The sun was high.

Chase suddenly felt the whole world spinning.