Part 3The Girl Behind the Screen

The whole thing shattered me.

For an entire evening study session, I stared at my test paper and couldn’t write a single word. It wasn’t until I returned after school to that cramped rental apartment that I suddenly realized—

Bobby’s obsidian bracelet was still in the pocket of my jacket.

I had picked it up in the hallway yesterday after class. Bobby’s classroom was right next to mine, less than ten meters away in a straight line. He hadn’t been in the room then, and I could have simply slipped the bracelet into his desk.

But just as I was about to reach his desk, I turned around as if possessed.

At that moment, a secret little joy had even risen in my heart.

I knew Bobby’s private alternate account. He had given it to me himself before, to send over some competition materials. That string of numbers was already engraved in my memory.

Just last night, I had been so excited by that tiny point of connection that I couldn’t sleep at all. I hid under the blanket, holding my phone, the glow of the screen lighting up my burning face. I spent hours writing, deleting, and rewriting drafts.

When should I message him? What tone should I use? Would just saying, “Hi, your bracelet is with me,” sound too stiff? When he replied, would he say thank you to me?

I hesitated for ages, unable to press send on the message I had written.

But now, everything had become one giant joke.

I buried myself in my pillow and broke down crying.

After I cried until my throat went hoarse, I started laughing at myself for being a complete fool.

Bobby’s “thank you” was something I had heard before.

On that online dating account full of lies, he had once sent voice messages, his low, sexy voice carrying a smile, gently saying “thank you” to me thirty-six times.

Unfortunately.

He thought all that tenderness had been given to a beautiful, dazzling school beauty.

And only today did I finally see reality clearly.