I Finally Said Yes, But He Said No

The SATs were over when someone found a love letter Stephen Hayes had written to me.

Everyone started chanting, asking if I'd say yes.

Young and shy, I was too embarrassed to admit it, missing the dejection in his eyes.

Years later, he used me as inspiration for a coming-of-age movie that swept the film awards.

When reporters asked if he regretted not being more proactive back then, Stephen Hayes wept on camera, hoping to find me through the media.

Suddenly, the whole city was buzzing.

But by then, I was no longer able to respond

Reborn, back to that summer when I was eighteen.

I snatched up the love letter first and walked straight up to him:

"Stephen, do you want to be with me?"

He lowered his eyes, a cold smile playing on his lips.

"No."

As his words hung in the air, a suffocating awkwardness filled the room.

Some people tried to comfort me, others were just enjoying the spectacle.

I ran a hand through my hair, taking two steps back with a self-deprecating laugh. "Oh, I see. Alright then."

The whispers around me threatened to drown me:

"Who is she? So bold!"

"I think she's from Class 3? I heard she got into our school on an athletic scholarship. Otherwise, with her grades"

"So where does she get the confidence to confess to Stephen? He's a top student, accepted to Harvard University"

"Who knows. Aren't all jocks like that? Reckless airheads"

I squeezed my palm, forcing a smile to keep myself from looking too awkward.

"It was just a dare. Don't take it seriously."

Just as I was about to turn and leave, Stephen suddenly spoke.

"That letter you shouldn't take it seriously either."

In my previous life, I didn't take it seriously either.

That day, after the graduation ceremony, everyone was eagerly clearing out their desks and lockers.

Papers and textbooks cascaded out of drawers with a whoosh, fluttering through the air between the school buildings.

It was then that Stephen's love letter fell out of my drawer.

The guys who usually treated me like one of them snatched the letter, yelling:

"Holy crap! Someone wrote a love letter to Farmar Davies?!"

Stephen's exam papers were always passed around and studied by the entire grade.

My name was written on the envelope in elegant, strong handwriting. It wasn't hard to recognize the sender.

"There are words in here I don't even know! Am I illiterate?"

"Who knew the school's genius would go for a jock like her Ouch! Not the face!"

I blushed furiously, grabbed the letter back, and shoved it directly into my pocket.

"Stop messing around. How could he ever be interested in me?"

My friends laughed, asking if I had feelings for him.

Back then, my teenage crushes were secrets kept in a diary.

In my friends' eyes, I was always the outgoing tomboy.

My hidden feelings were suddenly exposed, and instead of joy at receiving the letter, shame was the first thing I felt

At that time, I blurted out:

"No way! We're not even in the same league."

Too embarrassed to admit it, I completely missed the dejected figure in the corner.

The next time I saw him was ten years later, live on a awards show.

Stephen Hayes cried on camera during a media interview.

I stared at the hospital room ceiling, my eyelids growing heavy.

I heard the host ask, "What kind of presence is the female lead's inspiration to Director Stephen Hayes"

Unfortunately, I didn't get to hear the answer

When I opened my eyes again, it was back to that summer when I was eighteen.

This time, I walked towards him, but he took a step back. "No, I don't think so."

What came next was even more humiliating than a gentle rejection

"Sorry, I put it in the wrong drawer."

The room fell silent, as if the world had pressed pause.

"Oh, well, you can have it back then."

I heard myself force myself to speak calmly.

Then I fumbled in my pocket for the crumpled letter, suddenly at a loss.

"Uh, I accidentally wrinkled it"

I desperately tried to smooth the letter flat

A button came out of my pocket and rolled to Stephen's feet.

My heart felt like it was being squeezed tight.

Stephen looked down at his collar.

The second button was missing, as if it had been forcefully torn off.

At that moment, the mocking gazes from everyone felt silently directed at me.

It was indeed Stephen's button.

I had spent a month bringing water to the basketball team, begging his teammates, just to get my hands on it.

It was easy for guys to snag a button while playing basketball, without drawing attention.

Now, my carefully hidden secret was exposed, like the punchline of a cruel joke.

I bent down to pick up the button, but it seemed to grow legs, rolling all the way into the depths of a nearby flower bed.

I didn't care how prickly the freshly trimmed branches were, reaching out to get it

A pair of sneakers stopped in front of me. "Don't bother looking, I don't want it."

I stood up, wiping the sweat from my face. "Oh, alright."

After Stephen left, I also pretended nothing had happened and left.

Then I found an empty classroom and finally couldn't hold it in, bursting into tears.

It shouldn't be like this Why is it completely different from what I imagined?

I had caught up with time, only to be harshly pushed away by the person within that time.

I originally didn't want to go to the graduation party that night.

Because I knew Stephen would definitely be there.

After all, he was the top student in our graduating class, and a good person, so everyone had invited him.

My friends started teasing, saying if I didn't go, it meant I was giving up, giving in.

They even said if I didn't go, they'd go confront Stephen and demand an explanation, backing me up no matter what.

I was too proud to let that happen, so I collected myself and headed out.

The graduation party was scheduled at an upscale karaoke bar near the school.

When I arrived, someone was already singing.

I quickly scanned the room but didn't see Stephen.

I immediately breathed a sigh of relief. Since I hadn't figured out how to face him, I found a corner to sit in.

A moment later, someone sat next to me.

I didn't think much of it until Ramon Garcia nudged me, signaling me to look back.

That's when I noticed the excessively beautiful girl sitting next to me, who also looked familiar.

Wasn't she the prettiest girl from the next class?

I asked, "Can I help you?"

She lowered her head, her long lashes trembling slightly, and spoke timidly. "Um about this morning, I wanted to apologize."

I was confused: What?

"That letter, I think it was probably meant for me."

"My friend said Stephen asked her this morning where my classroom was."

"My friend gets her left and right mixed up and pointed to your classroom by mistake. She later realized that you and I both happened to be in the fourth row, third column of our respective classrooms"

"I'm really sorry for the misunderstanding. I apologize on his behalf!"

I set down my iced soda and spoke calmly. "Are you sure?"

She probably hadn't expected me to ask back and immediately flushed crimson. "Of course! My friend wouldn't lie to me, and"

She shyly lowered her head, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her skirt on her knee.

"Stephen even specifically asked me about college applications before the SATs"

I said, "I see. I understand."

The air conditioning in the room was too cold, and the food was awful. I wanted to leave.

"Well, I wish you two the best."

With that, I picked up my jacket from the sofa and stood up to leave.

Someone pushed the door open just then, and I almost walked right into them.

"Woah! Who's that?!"

Stephen Hayes and his friends had just walked in.

I paused slightly, and then I heard a soft voice from behind me.

"Stephen, what took you so long?"

Oh, she was calling someone else.

Stephen's gaze fell on me, tinged with a hint of inquiry.

I turned my head away, moving past them.

I heard someone talking to Stephen behind me, mentioning my name.

He immediately cut them off with a cold voice. "Don't mention her." His tone was impatient.

I quickened my pace, leaving everything behind.

The summer of June was like a steamer.

Stepping out of the karaoke bar, a wave of heat hit me, but I was breaking out in a cold sweat.

A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, and my lower belly felt heavy.

Damn, I'd completely forgotten about that since I was reborn. My period was coming.

I found a convenience store nearby, bought a heat pack, and stuck it on my stomach. While I was at it, I bought some chicken nuggets.

Living two lives, the pain of my period still plagued me.

I first met Stephen because I suddenly got my period during P.E. class and got my athletic shorts dirty.

My friends usually treated me like one of the guys, so no one noticed my embarrassment.

Only he, from the next class, noticed. He took off his jacket and covered my thighs. "Here, hide it for now."

Seeing my face turn pale and me unable to stand steadily from the pain, he immediately left the basketball court and carried me to the school nurse's office.

After that incident, I started to notice him.

I regretted not being more honest back then.

I never thought that given a second chance, when I pursued him, he would deny anything happened.

My gaze vacant, I stared at the ground, thinking for a long time.

Perhaps his love letter wasn't for me at all.

I was lost in thought when I looked down and jumped in surprise.

When did I order so many chicken nuggets?!

The box was overflowing, completely full.

I stopped the guy at the counter, who was about to ring me up. "Wait a minute! I didn't order this much, did I?"

He pressed down on his cap and muttered, "It's fine, just eat."

I can't just accept this for nothing

No, something was definitely off. A thousand things felt wrong.

Before he knew it, I reached out and flipped his cap off.

"It's you?!"

Stockton Miller, Stephen's rival on the basketball court, a friend I'd met while bringing water to the team.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "What is this supposed to be?"

Stockton grabbed his cap back, awkwardly putting it on. He mumbled, "I heard about what happened earlier today"

"Stop right there!" I paid for the extra food.

"Don't do this. I told you it was just a dare."

He pressed down his curly hair that escaped from under his cap. "It's better if it's fake. I was actually pretty happy"

His voice was too low at the end; I couldn't hear him at all.

After eating my fill, I was browsing the shelves for tampons.

Stockton kept rearranging the shelves next to me.

Ten minutes later, I snapped, "How long are you going to keep rearranging?"

"Huh?" He suddenly realized he'd been lingering in the women's hygiene aisle for ages, and his face immediately flushed crimson.

Stockton suddenly stood in front of me and asked in a low voice, "How about you go out with me?"

"Are you crazy?"

His expression became unusually serious. "I'm not kidding. I like girls with your personality."

I took two steps back. "I'm not kidding either. I don't like how dark you are."

He glanced at his tanned arms, looking a little troubled. "Then I'll get fairer. I can also"

The bell above the door chimed.

"Go help the customer."

After sending him away, I continued to bend down, looking for my usual pads.

A hand reached over my head, palm open. "Is it this one?"

Yes, it was my usual brand.

Luckily, it was the last pack left on the shelf.

"Yes, that's it. Thank you."

I instinctively reached out to take it, but the person pulled their hand back.

I looked up, meeting a pair of deep-set eyes.

Stephen Hayes stood behind me, very close.

He turned and handed the last pack to the girl behind him.

"Stephen, I can buy it myself Farmar Davies, you're here too?"

Oh, he was getting it for someone else.

A strange pang of bitterness welled up in my chest, my throat suddenly dry and constricted.

Someone patted my shoulder. Stockton casually put his arm around me. "Let's go. My shift's over."

Stephen looked at the person behind me, his gaze lingering on Stockton's hand on my shoulder.

His expression darkened slightly, but he didn't say anything more.

Torian Stone tugged on his sleeve and said softly, "See? She has a boyfriend. So don't worry about this morning's misunderstanding"

"Boyfriend?" Stephen interrupted.

Upon hearing that, Stockton rested his chin on my shoulder, looking like he was leaning half his body weight on me.

"You can have a girlfriend, but I can't?"

He glanced at the girl standing in front of Stephen and warned her coldly,

"Torian! Keep your boyfriend in line, and don't cause trouble."

I suddenly stopped short. "Wait." I looked at Stockton. "What did you just say?"

Stockton replied, "I told her not to cause trouble."

No, not that.

I stared fixedly at the girl close to Stephen, asking word by word:

"You called her what?"

Stockton realized. "Oh, you mean Torian? She's my neighbor, we've known each other for a long time."

Stephen and Torian left quickly.

I leaned against the shelf, my head felt heavy, my legs a little weak.

It felt like a huge hole had ripped open in my chest.

The reason I was so sure Stephen's movie was based on me

Was because during that interview, Stephen cried silently on camera, and finally revealed the name of the female lead's inspiration.

The subtitle displayed: Farmar.

Anyone who knew us would immediately think of me.

During the toughest times in my previous life, I watched Stephen's movie countless times from my hospital bed, including every behind-the-scenes clip, every roadshow, and every interview with the cast and crew.

The female lead, Maya, was by then a globally renowned A-list actress, and she starred without pay, reportedly to repay a favor.

At twenty-eight, she played an eighteen-year-old girl without any awkwardness, even looking far prettier than my eighteen-year-old self.

And Maya's former stage name before her debut was the same as mine.