That evening, after study hall, they were the only two left in the classroom, and Jiayi kissed her. The taste of that first kiss was forgotten; all he remembered was the panic, fearing they’d be caught by a teacher or that classmates might return, yet unwilling to miss the golden opportunity he’d been contemplating all day. It was thrilling and nerve-wracking, his heart pounding as he clumsily held her face, kissing her eyes, nose, eyebrows, and chin before finding her lips, learning instinctively how to kiss.
Lai Hui said, “Your teeth hurt me.”
Jiayi replied, “I wanted to devour you then.”
After that day, Jiayi would walk her home every evening. Near the school was a steep slope without streetlights, their usual path. Going downhill, Jiayi would tell her to hold tight, and in the darkness, Lai Hui would hug his waist as the bike sped down, the chain clattering, the bike diving forward. Her face would be hit by the wind, and at that moment, they both thought he would carry her for a lifetime.
Jiayi only carried her for a month. One day, while going uphill, Lai Hui said, “Jiayi, let’s not ride anymore. Shall we walk home?”
Jiayi soon realized the benefits of walking; there were many routes home, and they could stroll through dark alleys where they could hold hands, hug, and kiss freely. Whenever they saw the light at the alley’s end, a sense of loss would creep in, signaling they must part ways where people and lights were.
Lai Hui suggested, “Shall we walk back?”
Jiayi agreed, turning back into the darkness with her hand in his. They walked that alley three or four times a day!
Looking back, Lai Hui would always say, “The security was really good back then!”
Jiayi would reply, “I was there to protect you!”
