Evan Lin strolled toward school, swinging the bag Lynn Chen tossed him like it was no big deal.
Right as he hit the gate, Evan realized—crap, he had no idea which class Yolanda Fang was in. Lucky for him, there was a girl with double ponytails up ahead.
"Yo, which class is Yolanda Fang in?" Evan called out to the girl in front.
"Are you serious? Yolanda's in Class Five. Who at this school doesn't know that?" The twin-pigtail girl rolled her eyes hard. She turned to keep roasting him, but her face froze halfway through.
"Thanks." Evan got his answer and ignored the girl's curious stare, heading quickly toward the classroom building.
Isabel Lu watched Evan’s back, her eyebrows raised in surprise.
She thought he looked weirdly familiar, like she’d seen him somewhere before.
Isabel squinted, gears turning. Suddenly, it all clicked.
"Wait—that's the guy Trevor Liu had his arm around yesterday in class!"
Isabel nearly did a double take. So that’s who he was!
Tyson Liu’s been a legend at this school forever, and anyone dumb enough to mess with him usually limps in the next day—if they show up at all. But Evan looked totally fine, full of energy, so Isabel’s curiosity kicked in and she hurried after him.
"Yo, wait up!" Isabel called after Evan. He looked like he was just cruising, but his pace was sneaky fast.
Isabel noticed that even though Evan’s steps were chill and his stride was short, she was falling further behind with every second.
"Hey! Dude!" Isabel realized she was never catching up, so she cranked up the volume.
"Hm?" Evan paused, turned, and gave Isabel a raised eyebrow. "What’s up?"
Evan recognized her—she was the girl who’d pointed him to Class Eleven yesterday. But he had no clue why she was stopping him now.
"You didn’t get wrecked yesterday?" Isabel edged closer. She had that cute-but-trouble vibe, with eyes that sparkled like she was always plotting something.
She wasn’t Brightsea No. 2’s top beauty, but Isabel was definitely a cut above most girls.
But when she talked, she had a bit of a street-tough vibe—kind of like Yolanda Fang.
"Not even close." Evan shot back, shaking his head with a half-smirk.
"So, did you lay out Trevor?" Isabel asked, checking Evan from head to toe like she was hunting for secret superpowers.
But nah—this dude was just way too basic. Total normie.
"Not a chance." Evan shrugged, lips twitching with a smirk.
Yeah, he’d actually beaten up Trevor Liu that morning, but Evan couldn’t be bothered to explain.
"Knew it. With your vibe, no way you’d cross Trevor." Isabel flashed a wide grin. "Still, after Trevor went out with you yesterday, he never came back. Watch your back, dude. I legit thought you’d ticked him off."
"Is Trevor Liu really all that?" Evan squinted, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You have no clue, do you?" Isabel gave him a look like he was living under a rock. "Trevor’s not that tough. The reason nobody messes with him is his big brother, Tyson Liu. You know Tyson, right?"
"Guess not. Tyson Liu’s one of Brightsea No. 2’s top three fighters. He’s the real deal—he once soloed a whole gang of street punks."
"He’s been off at some training camp, but he’s due back any day now."
"When that happens, you better get your popcorn ready."
Isabel just kept going—once she started talking, you’d need a miracle to shut her up.
"A good show?"
"You really have no clue, huh? Trevor got decked by some mystery bruiser yesterday morning. When Tyson Liu rolls back in, he’s gonna help Trevor get payback for sure." Isabel puffed up, clearly proud to have Trevor in her class like it was some kind of badge of honor.
"Cool, thanks." Evan nodded, already tuning her out as he headed off.
"Yo! For real, does this guy care about anything?" Isabel muttered, watching Evan walk off, losing interest—until something clicked.
What’s that kid want with Yolanda Fang?
At Brightsea No. 2 High, Yolanda was basically in a league of her own—untouchable.
Anyone hanging with Yolanda had to have some serious family clout.
Isabel tried to chase him down for answers, but the hallway was already empty. She stomped her foot, grumbling, "Guy’s not even tall, but he moves like he’s got rocket boosters."
Evan reached Class Five, peeked inside—no sign of Yolanda. So he tapped the desk of a short kid in the front row who was half-asleep.
"Hey, can you tell me where Yolanda Fang sits?"
The kid blinked awake, checked out Evan and his fancy little bag, and instantly looked at him like he was nuts. "Third seat from the back by the window. Bro, you got a death wish or something?"
"Get beat up by Yolanda?" Evan blinked, thrown off.
"Anyone who tries giving Yolanda stuff has balls, man. Just drop it and run—don’t let her catch you."
"Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Yolanda might be hot, but her punches hit like a truck."
This kid had clearly seen this play out a bunch. He gave Evan’s basic outfit another look and nodded with respect.
A toad trying to score a swan is gutsy as hell—even if he’s bound to get roasted.
Just as Evan stepped up to put the bag on Yolanda’s desk, a voice called out behind him.
"Evan Lin?"
Evan turned around. Yolanda was standing in the doorway, half a bun hanging from her mouth, and beside her was a tall, sunny-looking dude.
Ethan Yi, all six feet of him, was dressed down today and had just been laughing with Yolanda. When he spotted Evan, you could see a flicker of shade in his eyes.
"Bro, you’re on your own now."
The kid who’d helped Evan with Yolanda’s seat grabbed a book and hid his face, faking sleep—no way he was getting caught in the crossfire.
But instead of Yolanda blowing up like everyone expected, nothing happened.
Instead, Ethan Yi eyed the bag in Evan’s hand and asked, dead serious, "What exactly are you trying to put in Yolanda’s bag?"