Everyone knew he did her backpack, too. There was no way she actually remembered which books to bring, or always had her pencil case stocked so she had a spare pencil when she forgot the other one was behind her ear or holding up her hair.

There was constant shoulder-checking when he wasn’t around. Giggles about how she needed to leave him alone and give him space—she wasn’t his girlfriend—or how she should scurry back to him if her eyes started watering. They made disturbing jokes about what might have caused her amnesia. They stole her school supplies and the homework he had helped her finish. They acted sweet toward her when he was around, then did a complete 180 whenever he was gone. They tugged her hair, undoing the hairstyles he had given her. Knocked her books over. Stepped on her papers.

And she hid it all from him, obviously. Because they were right—he did do everything for her. She did go to his bed when she had nightmares, or when it was thundering. He tucked her in every night, and he blew dry her hair. He made her breakfast and helped her study.

She did want him all to herself. So what would it say about her if she went looking for his help with this? It would only get worse.

And maybe they were right about everything else too—maybe she was ugly, a burden, pitiful, and stupid.

He found out on a day she got sent to the principal’s office again for forgetting her assignments. She came out of school crying and he asked her why.

She said she forgot the homework. Again. The homework he always helped her finish, and always made sure she understood everything, did everything correctly with her own head. All that time of his wasted so often because she was an airhead.

But he knew he had put her homework in her bag every single time. So she couldn’t have forgotten it.

He insisted she tell him what was happening, bringing her to her favorite milk tea place. She eventually broke and told him everything. He comforted her, hugged her, wiped her tears. Bought her favorite snacks. Made her favorite dinner. Watched a cute movie with her that night.

The next days were cleanup at school.

The worst of the bullies had cut her long, shiny hair into a bob. She had been so proud of it—but somehow gum had gotten stuck in it. Everyone got a private talk with Xia Yizhou. He never told Fèng Tàibèi what he said, but they all came out of those conversations very pale.

He braided her hair into buns, with braids trailing down and ribbons tied into perfect bows, right in front of everyone in the cafeteria. He started kissing her forehead before class.

The bullying stopped, or never took root anymore—sometimes someone tried something with her, but she wasn't scared to ask for help this time, and he was paying much more attention to the possibility.