Chapter 5

They walk to the cafeteria doors opposite to where they entered, opening it to reveal the school's main hallway. Various sign-up booths are pressed up against the wall, teachers leading a single-man operation in each of them. The picture in front of them looks almost aesthetic, if not for the dimming fluorescent lights and the off-white walls.

"Catch you later?" Li An proposes, " Hua Lan and I are going to sign up for music."

"No problem with me," agrees Feng Mei, "I'm gonna sign up for English then do some journalist work." She pulls down a pair of shades that was previously resting on her head. "See you later, Chang Chang!" Feng Mei waves with her fingers before sashaying away.

"Chang Chang?" Hou Yi echoes.

"She says that sometimes," Chang'e explains. Hou Yi opens his mouth to say what she guesses to be a teasing comment about it. "Don't even think about it."

"Aw, don't be like that—"

"Uh-uh."

"Chang Chang," Hou Yi teases. He puffs his cheeks and pouts, mimicking a baby.

"Urgh," groans Chang'e, putting her hand up to her face in a desperate act of unseeing what she just saw. Hou Yi laughs at her before pulling down her hand by the wrist.

"Wanna sign up together?" offers Hou Yi with a smile on his face.

"Sure," relents Chang'e, "But only because I need to make sure you don't sign up for art."

"Wasn't planning on it, even before you told me."

"Doesn't hurt to make sure," Chang'e shrugs.

Inside the science booth lay a tired physics teacher. 'I think that might've been Feng Mei's teacher at one point,' muses Chang'e. Just beside the teacher's hand lies a coffee-filled mug that says, "I LOVE my job!" Clearly, it was a gift from the school to its teachers.

"Seems like a lie to me," Hou Yi observes, pertaining to the mug, "No sane teacher.." 'would ever buy a mug that says something like that, especially not with that tacky print,' Chang'e completes in her mind, 'unless it's free. Which it is.'

"Good afternoon, ma'am," acknowledges Hou Yi, just as Chang'e greets, "Miss Lily Ong, right?"

"Oh, yes! That I am," Miss Ong confirms, eyes glowing with delight. Must be the first time someone calls her by her name while she's in the booth, Chang'e notes sadly. "And you are?"

"Chang'e. Feng Mei's best friend." Miss Ong nods and then turns to Hou Yi, whose mind is somewhere else.

"Ahem," Chang'e elbows him.

"Oh! Hou Yi, Ma'am," he blurts. "Sorry," he whispers to Chang'e.

"The two of you planning to sign up for science?"

"Yes, Ma'am," is their reply, to which Miss Ong beams at.

"Great! Love myself some science-y students. Wish there were more but the minor subjects seem to be all the glam."

Hou Yi grins, "That they are."

"Well, don't let me bother you," Miss Ong rushes, grabbing the pen and the list of contestants, "I'm sure the star students of the school plan on applying to other contests."

"We're really not—" Chang'e protests at once, but then Miss Ong shushes her just as quickly.

"You don't have to be so humble, Chang'e," Miss Ong admonishes. Chang'e only smiles and bows her head before looking to the side to see that Hou Yi's done signing her up for the science contest.

"You know, I don't get why you fight all the time," Miss Ong thinks out loud, "You guys would make great—" She glances at Hou Yi for a brief moment which makes Chang'e look at him too, but he's just filling up the blanks on the list. "—friends."

"Not with Hou Yi," she jokes, gently shoving his arm.

"And definitely not with Chang'e," banters Hou Yi, pushing Chang'e carefully.

"In time," Miss Ong mumbles to herself, taking the paper and pen from Hou Yi to double-check what he's written. "Either way, you're good to go!"

"Thank you, Ma'am!" Chang'e chirps, tossing the widest smile she could muster to Miss Ong. Miss Ong catches it, donning the bright smile on her face as well. "No, thank you," she emphasizes on you, before waving them goodbye.

"Are you signing up for anything other than science and art?" Hou Yi asks, leading the way to the art sign-up booth.

"Sports," Chang'e responds. "I barely have musical or writing talent," she adds as an afterthought.

"To hear is to believe," recites Hou Yi regarding her musical talent, giving a helpless shrug.

"Are you saying you'd rather hear it than take my word for it?" Chang'e laughs, "I think you'd die at the starting notes."

As they get closer to the art booth, the teacher assigned waves at them. She waves back, watching the teacher pull out a paper and a pen in preparation.

"Wait, you're right," Hou Yi backtracks, "All the exposure I got from your screeching voice has deteriorated my braincells." Chang'e simply scoffs in reply.

"Heya, kids! Signin' up for art?" is the warm Australian accent that welcomes them.

"Hello, Mr. Melanay. Just her," Hou Yi clarifies, a thumbs-up pointing in Chang'e's direction.

"Ah, Chang'e." His head turns to look at her, and his rainbow-colored hair swishes with his movements. "Just write your full name, along with your grade and section."

"Thanks, Mr. Melanay," Chang'e says, taking up a line on the list of contestants.

"You aren't gonna sign up, Hou Yi?" Mr. Melanay questions, "Rumor has it, the both of you are joinin' the same competitions."

"Sir, I can only stand to be in so many contests with Chang'e," Hou Yi jests. Mr. Melanay barks a hearty laugh at that, running a hand through his hair.

"The rivalry of the ages," sighs Mr. Melanay, "Though you seem to be stickin' together as of the moment."

"Keeping an eye on Hou Yi," Chang'e explains as she sets the pen down.

"What a peculiar way of saying you're checking him out.."

"Mr. Melanay!" Chang'e nearly shouts, turning red, "It's not like that."

"Mmhm, I know," he agrees passively, as if Chang'e really was sticking around with Hou Yi for that reason. 'I am not,' she wants to scream. Politely, of course.

"We'll get going, Sir," informs Hou Yi as he leads Chang'e away in an attempt to save Mr. Melanay from Chang'e's evident wrath, cheeks red like cherry bombs. It works though, and now they're heading towards the math sign-up booth.

"Hello, Hou Yi, Chang'e," the math teacher of their neighboring section, Mrs. Wang, nods at each of them. "Both of you here to register, I presume?"

"Nope, just him," coughs Chang'e, now recovered from that ordeal.

"What?" Mrs. Wang asks in disbelief, "My ears might be getting old already.."

"I'm not signing up this year," Chang'e repeats, trying to get Hou Yi to help her out, but he remains stubbornly ignorant.

"And why is that? ..If Dave and Lily—I mean Mr. Melanay and Miss Ong—were right all this time.. My goodness, I thought it'd take longer," she mutters to herself, but not quite as soft as she intended it to be because Chang'e still hears it.

"Hou Yi and I made a deal," she states, leaving out her confusion at the last bit of what Mrs. Wang said. But then Mrs. Wang looks so relieved at that, making her curiosity grow all the more.

"Anyway," Mrs. Wang gets back on track and hands a pen and a list to Hou Yi, "Here you go, Hou Yi."

"Thank you, Mrs. Wang." Hou Yi bends down a little to write on the table, and Mr. Melanay must have used some form of a spell because 'why does Hou Yi look half decent?'

Even if he looks oversized for the table by the way he has to hunch over, Chang'e can still see the outlines of his muscles, highlighted by his relatively tight shirt. And his hair. 'Don't get me started on the hair.' Whenever Chang'e takes a minute or two to look at his hair, it always seems as if everything is perfectly in place. Not a strand out of its line nor a tuft deciding to be rebellious.

Not only that, but her eyes have always been drawn to Hou Yi's brown tinted hair. The tint is less noticeable without a direct source of light, but when there is one, it looks more and more like smooth maple syrup. So much so that she almost wants to run her hands through it.

Mrs. Wang's strict-sounding reply of "my pleasure" snaps her back to reality. 'Gross, disgusting. I need bleach for my brain.' Chang'e averts her gaze, opting to look at her shoes instead. 'There is no way I just thought of that. It was a dream. A hallucination. One of Mr. Melanay's art tricks, like the time he told us to paint whatever we wanted to and then started to therapy us through those very paintings.'

Hou Yi's "Thanks, Mrs. Wang," brings her out of her art therapy memories, and just like that, they're heading towards the sports booth.

"Last one for us today," Hou Yi exclaims, a sigh of exhaustion leaving his lips.

"Us?" parrots Chang'e, "You're signing up for sports too?"

"You know it." Hou Yi gives her a wink. "Can't let my dear Chang'e miss out on some competition, can I?"

"Oh, you… You're such a copycat," Chang'e scowls, half-jokingly.

"You injure me so, m'lady. I'm afraid I might freeze to death with the cold treatment you're giving me."

"Then freeze," hmphs Chang'e. Hou Yi laughs at that, nudging her in playfulness.

"Oh, the P.E. teacher isn't here right now," Chang'e points out upon seeing the empty chair, "Must be in the restrooms or something."

"We can probably list down our names already," reckons Hou Yi, already hovering the pen over the paper.

"Probably." And with that, Hou Yi inks their names onto the paper. He hands the pen to Chang'e so that she can write down what sport she's competing in. 'Volleyball,' she writes in feathery handwriting, right before Hou Yi's printed 'basketball' one.

"Let's go check out test results," he suggests, looking at Chang'e.

"Race you there!" she shouts, already running away.