The medal Jenny won sat quietly on her desk—silver, smooth, and still. Not gold. Not yet.
She stared at it for a moment, then tucked it away in her drawer. She had work in fifteen minutes, and the st thing she wanted was to think about Melissa, Melissa’s cousin, or the ghost of Li Wei’s unexpected gaze during the competition.
But something had shifted.
The next few days passed in a blur. Jenny returned to school and her routine. Her friends welcomed her back like they always did—with noise, snacks, and exaggerated stories of cafeteria drama.
“So, where were you again?” one of them asked, nudging her as they walked to css.
“Family stuff,” she replied quickly.
Her other friend raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm... family stuff that comes with a silver medal?”
Jenny blinked.
“I saw the photo,” she grinned, holding up her phone. “You were tagged in a local shooting club post! Don’t think you can hide forever, girl.”
Jenny could only ugh, caught red-handed.
That same afternoon, as she got home from css, Jenny paused on the stairwell.
Down below, the familiar hum of Li Wei’s jeep echoed as he parked. He stepped out, tall and sunlit, tossing his duffel bag over his shoulder.
Their eyes met for a second.
He nodded.
She nodded back.
Nothing more, nothing less.
But ter that night, as she was watering the tiny potted pnt she kept on her terrace, a soft voice came from the other side.
“You train alone?”
Jenny looked over.
Li Wei leaned slightly over the terrace railing across from hers, a bottled water in hand. He looked tired—sweat on his temple, a dark hoodie clinging to his shoulder.
Jenny blinked. “Mostly.”
He nodded, like he understood something unspoken. “Tough sport.”
Jenny raised an eyebrow. “And basketball’s a walk in the park?”
Li Wei chuckled. “Touché.”
There was a pause.
Jenny leaned on the railing, arms crossed. “Why were you at the competition?”
Li Wei looked down at the street for a moment. “Melissa asked me to come. Her cousin—your rival?”
Jenny gave a small smirk. “Not surprising.”
He gnced at her again. “She didn’t tell me anything about… you. I didn’t know.”
Jenny shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We’re just neighbors.”
Li Wei didn’t argue. He simply took a sip of his water and said, “Still. You shot really well.”
Jenny looked at him, eyes sharp but not cold. “Thanks.”
Another pause.
Li Wei tilted his head slightly, pyful. “So... do you always shoot like that when you're mad?”
Jenny ughed for the first time that day—short and quiet, but real.
“Only when Melissa’s watching.”
That night, Jenny y on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t know what was weirder—that Li Wei spoke to her… Or that she spoke back.
And somehow, in the quiet of that shared terrace conversation, she felt something unfamiliar.
Not nerves. Not butterflies.
But interest.
And maybe—just maybe—that feeling was mutual.