Gan Yang failed to finish his first marathon.
Back in Ithaca, when his track team buddies heard about it, they invited him to a local bar on Saturday night, claiming it was a team tradition.
The bar served local draft beer with 2% alcohol content, safe for athletes to drink freely. But for Gan Yang, who had no tolerance, everything became hazy between his second and third glass. Two marathon runners who could finish in under two hours and thirty minutes were analyzing his failure – wrong mindset, poor pacing, improper energy distribution… He nodded along, too embarrassed to admit that none of these were why he didn’t reach the finish line.
The lights pulsed and voices buzzed around him. Despite the cold outside, several street-facing windows were wide open, with people clustered near them to smoke. Through the rising smoke, he thought he saw a familiar figure pass by the entrance, hands in pockets, neck hunched into a coat, hair ruffled by the wind, the tips catching the glow of the lights, looking soft.
Without thinking, he ran outside, chasing half a block before realizing his mistake. He returned, sheepish.
It was reggae night, and the DJ was playing Bob Marley. The lyrics hit him:
“Every time that I plant a seed, he said, ‘Kill it before it grows’. He said, ‘Kill it before it grows’.”
Suddenly feeling the world was against him, he hid in the bathroom to call Wang Yi. As soon as she answered, he blurted, “I can’t do this. I need to clear things up with her.”
His words were vague, but Wang Yi understood immediately: “The girl you said had a boyfriend?”
Gan Yang froze, unable to respond.
“Are you…” Wang Yi laughed, “Planning to be the third wheel?”
Furious, Gan Yang hung up, slamming what he thought was a landline receiver onto the sink counter before storming out.
Ding Zhitong said goodbye to Feng Sheng at the dormitory entrance and went upstairs. Her room was pitch black; Song Mingmei wasn’t there.
She had thought Bian Benjamin was just an excuse, but whether true or not, Song Mingmei had plans on a weekend night. After removing her coat and washing her face, Ding Zhitong sat at her desk. Unable to resist, she checked her email again, even searching the trash and spam folders. Apart from ads and a letter from her father, Ding Yanming, there was nothing.
As usual, her father wrote about his colorful pre-retirement life, like buying a new DSLR camera and taking photos on weekend trips with friends. The attached photos showed old Ding looking dapper, often accompanied by a middle-aged woman – tall, shapely, with a heavily made-up face and chestnut-colored permed hair. She resembled Yan Aihua.
Ding Zhitong chuckled, thinking her father’s taste hadn’t changed. He was still the same – slightly talented, a bit pretentious, trendy, averse to responsibility, bad at making money but good at spending it.
So, making money was up to her.
Money… if only she had money!
Closing her laptop, Ding Zhitong took a deep breath, but the frustration lingered. She figured it was because she’d had some wine at dinner but not enough. There was boxed California red in the fridge – cheap but effective for her occasional insomnia. She downed a shallow mug, feeling it was just right. She went to brush her teeth, ready for bed. Whatever problems she had could wait until tomorrow.
As she rinsed her mouth, she heard someone calling her name outside. At first, she thought she was imagining it, but the calls grew louder.
She quickly spat out the water and went to the window.
Someone was standing below, hands cupped around their mouth, yelling, “Ding~ Zhi~ tong~ Ding~ Zhi~ tong~”
It was Gan Yang.
Baffled, Ding Zhitong opened the window and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Come down for a sec,” Gan Yang gestured like a gibbon.
“Why?” she asked.
“I need to ask you something,” he replied, which explained nothing.
“It’s late. Can’t you call?” Ding Zhitong tried to stay calm.
Gan Yang suddenly looked confused, patting himself down. “My phone… I don’t know where I put it…”
She realized he was drunk.
The area was full of student dorms, and people were peeking out of their windows across the street. If this continued, campus security might come and take him to sober up. Out of solidarity with a fellow countryman, she gave in, closed the window, and went downstairs.
As she opened the door, cold air hit her face. Ding Zhitong huddled there, saying, “Ask away.”
“Why are you like this?” Gan Yang mimicked her posture, crossing his arms.
Ding Zhitong was exasperated. “Because I’m cold! Aren’t you?”
“Not cold,” Gan Yang shook his head, looking almost steamy.
Ding Zhitong laughed, “You called me down just to ask that?”
Gan Yang quickly shook his head, “Wait, let me think.”
Ding Zhitong laughed again, her breath forming a small white cloud that quickly dissipated, like a close-up in a movie. Every detail was vivid. Gan Yang stood there, looking down at her, suddenly at a loss for words. Seeing his state, Ding Zhitong realized this wouldn’t be resolved quickly. She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into the building, closing the door behind them.
Her dorm was in a drab old building. The entrance led straight to a hallway and stairs, with dusty ceiling lights casting a dim glow. Usually at this hour, returning students would liven up the place, but on a Saturday night, everyone was still out. It felt empty, with only faint music and laughter echoing from somewhere distant.
“What happened that day?” Gan Yang finally spoke.
“What do you mean?” Ding Zhitong feigned ignorance, though she knew he was referring to the New York Marathon day.
Gan Yang pressed on, “Why did you stop talking to me afterward and just thank me?”
Ding Zhitong said, “I thanked you because you helped me.”
Gan Yang immediately retorted, “Don’t lie!”
It was like a kindergarten-level conversation.
Ding Zhitong bit her lip to keep from laughing and answered seriously, “You didn’t want me to meet you at the finish line that day. I guessed your partner was unhappy, so I left to avoid causing trouble.”
“Partner?” Gan Yang was confused.
Ding Zhitong could see where this was going but still asked, “Didn’t you point her out to me yourself?”
“You mean Wang Yi?” Gan Yang finally remembered. “We’re going to make shoes together. That kind of partner, not the other kind…”
“Make shoes?” Now Ding Zhitong was lost.
“YeAh shoes. For running, basketball, and…” Gan Yang explained, getting off-topic.
Ding Zhitong almost laughed again, “Okay, I get it. Anything else?”
Gan Yang did have more. He asked directly, “Do you like me?”
Ding Zhitong was taken aback, thinking, “You’re so direct…”
Gan Yang seemed to have mustered great courage, ready for a definitive answer: “Even if you have a boyfriend, I want to tell you that I like you.”
Ding Zhitong looked at him for a moment before saying, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Then Feng Sheng…?” Gan Yang asked.
“No,” she shook her head.
“Oh, I thought he was your boyfriend…” Gan Yang was confused.
“Funny, I thought you had a boyfriend too,” Ding Zhitong teased.
Gan Yang nodded in agreement, “YeAh funny. Turns out we’re both single.”
The conversation had reached peak awkwardness, and Ding Zhitong didn’t know how to continue.
Finally, Gan Yang cleared his throat and spoke again: “So, do you want to date… me?”
He said it so softly that it was almost drowned out by the faint music echoing in the hallway. Ding Zhitong took a moment to process, unsure if she had heard correctly. She felt the cheap supermarket wine she had drunk earlier starting to affect her.
“Where did you park?” she changed the subject, hoping to send him on his way.
But he cheerfully replied, “I didn’t drive. I ran here.”
No wonder he was so warm. Ding Zhitong shook her head, feeling dizzy. She decided to try her luck and called the number saved as “Forrest Gump” on her phone. Someone answered, and after a few transfers, they found someone who knew him and agreed to come pick him up.
They sat down against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Gan Yang’s track team buddy to arrive.
Gan Yang, still fixated on the “Forrest Gump” nickname he had seen on her phone screen, said, “You know, after you gave me that nickname, I started wearing Nike Cortez every day.”
“What’s Nike Cortez?” Ding Zhitong genuinely didn’t know.
“Forrest Gump shoes!” Gan Yang was incredulous, showing off his feet and almost taking off his shoes to show her.
“How would I know what you meant?” Ding Zhitong laughed, exasperated.
“Oh right, how would you know?” He paused, then laughed along with her.
Ding Zhitong was sure she must be crazy because she found him quite adorable.
“Now that you know, do you want to date me?” he asked again, his laughter fading as he looked into her eyes, completely serious.
This time, Ding Zhitong heard him clearly, but she only looked at him and asked, “Gan Yang, have girls always pursued you? Have you never encountered someone you liked who didn’t like you back?”
Gan Yang thought for a moment and answered honestly, “I guess so.”
Ding Zhitong laughed again. Drunk people were truly unguarded and adorable.
But Gan Yang wasn’t letting it go. He returned to his previous question: “So what do you say? Do you want to date me?”
Ding Zhitong looked at him and nodded. Drunk people also don’t know how to refuse.
Just as Feng Sheng couldn’t understand why he didn’t pass M Bank’s written test, Gan Yang couldn’t comprehend why he might fail in pursuing a girl. That’s why he had to come here for an explanation.
Yes, it was that kind of trivial competition. And the reason she was willing to give it a try was simply because she liked him a little.