To Be the Perfect Childhood Friend - Chapter 79

Anita unfolded the note in the library and read through the list of books she needed to collect. Just then, she sensed an unwelcome presence nearby.

“Are you planning to carry all those books by yourself? I’ll help you out. Are you going to read all of these? I like smart women.”

Since childhood, Anita had often attracted boys more than girls. The reason was simple: friendship between the same gender requires mutual interest. If Anita was too aloof or overly shy, the boys would drift away. However, boys would persist like pests, even if they knew she wasn’t particularly interested.

Anita didn’t consider herself exceptionally beautiful or attractive enough to draw the attention of all men. With her average looks and inability to refuse people, she probably seemed like an easy target.

It wasn’t just Finian who prodded at her like this.

That’s why Anita remained indifferent to Finian’s smarmy smile and attitude.

“Do as you like.”

Rutger often complained that Anita talked too much and was bothersome, but that was a misunderstanding. Anita was actually quite reserved. Finian, too, would likely back off after a few attempts if he got no reaction from her.

Finian Nigel was a real piece of work.

At least once a week, a victim from Anita’s class would be in distress. Anita, who reviewed her notes before class started, found it quite frustrating. Usually, the classroom would be filled with cries, and numerous girls would gather around to offer comfort. While only one girl was crying, more than ten girls would line up to offer words of consolation.

“Don’t worry. Forget about that jerk.” If one girl said it, it was just a line, but imagine over ten girls delivering such lines like a domino effect.

Moreover, the girl crying wasn’t particularly bright. Anita had spent a lot of time explaining basic concepts like equations, so she was certain of that.

They often said similar things: “He’s seeing three other girls,” “We went to the theater together…,” “He’s also seeing a girl he met at a café…”

Liking smart women was just a facade. He’d tried various types of women—those who liked parties, those who were good-looking—and now he was curious to try a new type like Anita.

“You seem to be under a misconception. I’m not that smart.”

“Why’s that?”

He looked at Anita with a relaxed expression as if daring her to explain. The certainty in his eyes was so transparent that even Anita could read it. He had the same look as boys who never worried about being rejected.

“If I were truly smart, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you. It’s like wasting valuable time on the street.”

His confident expression stiffened instantly. Seeing his mouth harden like a stone sculpture, Anita wanted to laugh out loud. It wasn’t that she had any particular grudge against Finian.

“You’ll probably never meet a truly smart woman. Such women avoid people like you as their top priority.”

His stiffened expression softened and curved upward into a smile as if nothing had happened. Leaning forward slightly, Finian whispered in a subtle voice.

“You’re wise. You’re pushing me away so effectively.”

“What nonsense are you talking about?”

“If you wanted to act dumb, you should have just pretended to be helpless and accepted me, don’t you think?”

Anita couldn’t hide her irritation and frowned.

“I…”

“Yeah?”

Finian looked at her with the self-assured smile of a gambler who expects to win. Anita cleared her throat once and answered.

“I’ll go with being in the middle. Neither dumb nor smart. So, could you move aside and let me go?”

Finian, who had been blocking her path with an obstructive stance, adjusted his posture. The playful smile that had been curving his eyes disappeared, replaced by a serious look. Anita, sensing something ominous, took a small step back.

“My ideal type just changed.”

“…Really?”

Though she didn’t want to ask, Anita felt she had no choice, lest Finian stay in the library until closing time.

“I think I like women who are moderately dumb and moderately smart.”

“That’s a wonderful discovery.”

“Do you want to seriously consider dating me?”

There was no need to ask what happened next. Anita realized quickly that talking to someone as crazy as Finian was pointless. She turned and fled without looking back.

Fortunately, Finian didn’t chase after Anita, which might have been more due to his inability to accept the reality that someone would actually flee from him rather than a rational decision.

Regardless, it was a relief for Anita.

After school, on her way home, Anita stopped abruptly as she was about to enter her house. A net that could support even a puma, as advertised by Müller, stretched from Anita’s house to Rutger’s.

“…….”

Anita hesitated for a moment before carefully sitting on the net. It was high enough to reach her waist. She sat there for a while, then lay back on the net, which was stretched taut and shaded by trees, so the sunlight wasn’t blinding.

“It’s not bad. I’ll just use it as a hammock.”

She mumbled to herself with no one around to hear. Anita lay there for a long time, idly enjoying the net.

From that day on, the net became another refuge for Anita. She read books on it, observed the shapes of leaves, or simply enjoyed the cool breeze.

About a week later, Anita started to convince herself that she was really okay. The change in the net’s use, now a symbol of her detachment from Rutger, made the incident seem like it never happened.

As she rested on the gently swaying net, someone’s footsteps approached. Assuming it was Müller, the gardener, or Laura, who often enjoyed walks, Anita yawned softly and adjusted the book on her face to keep it from slipping.

“You.”

Startled, she lifted her face, causing the book to fall to the ground. Her eyes, previously hidden behind the book, widened in surprise.

“Since when….”

Anita blinked slowly. The backlighting made Rutger’s face hard to see as he looked down at her.

“Why did you skip school that day?”

His tone, almost confrontational and blunt, seemed to suggest he was looking for a fight. He was straight to the point with his questions.

Anita lay back down on the net.

“I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

He pressed on persistently, and Anita sighed, already feeling worn out.

She had no intention of answering his probing questions.

“Could you pick up the book that fell?”

“You really…”

“I don’t want it to get crumpled.”

Anita didn’t meet his eyes. As she stubbornly avoided his gaze, Rutger picked up the book from the ground. Instead of just handing it back, he opened the book and placed it over her eyes.