Chapter 7 — Icebergs Also Know Red Eyes

To Niem: *You completely dismantled my brother's 23 year old cold image in just 1 week* To Niem: *Just now his eyes were red in front of the whole cafeteria???* To Niem: *My friend just sent me a video to watch!!!* To Niem: *Khuong Loc you're in trouble, if you dare to break up, my brother will destroy the cafeteria* To Niem: *He likes you, do you know? no!!! From the first day you went to the stadium, it was him!!* The last text message hadn't finished typing yet, as if someone had snatched the phone. I kept my eyes glued to the screen, my steps stopped. To Nghien realized I didn't continue and looked back. His eyes were still red, his hand still holding my wrist tightly.

“Can't walk anymore?” He asked, his voice containing a forced calmness.

“To Nghien.”

“Um.”

“Do you like me?”

He did not answer. But the finger that was squeezing my wrist tightened a little more.

“Let's eat first.” He said, "Let's finish eating and then move on."

He turned around and continued to pull me away. I followed slowly, looking at his back - his shoulders stiff and stiff, his steps faster than usual, his ears were red. The sound of a heartbeat drowns out all other sounds. Looks like I just messed something up. Looks like — just discovered something. 07 The barbecue restaurant is on the street behind the school. It's after one o'clock in the afternoon so the restaurant is deserted. To Nghien pulled me in, found a table in the corner, and let go of my wrist. I sat down, he sat opposite. Neither of them said a word. He held the menu and handed it to me: "Call now." I got the menu, turned the first page — pork belly, beef fat, beef tongue, chicken wings, bacon rolls. All the things that haven't been touched in the past Saturday are up here. But I stared at the menu but couldn't get a single word into my head. His mind was full of images of his red eye sockets in the cafeteria earlier.

“If you don't call, I'll call for you.” He said, took back the menu, flipped a few pages and waved to the staff, "Two portions of pork belly, one portion of fatty beef, one portion of chicken wings, lettuce, mushrooms, and sweet corn each. Two bowls of white rice."

The staff left, the space fell silent again. I stared at the grill on the table, opened my mouth: "To Nghien..."

“Eat first.”

“I have something to say—”

“Let's talk after eating.”

His voice was not harsh, but very determined. I had to keep my mouth shut. Meat is brought up. He picked up each piece of pork belly and placed it on the griddle. The hot fat sizzled and the charred aroma immediately spread. I swallowed my saliva. He picked up the first piece of cooked meat and placed it on the plate in front of me.

“Eat.”

I picked it up and put it in my mouth. The fat appears on the tip of the tongue, the salty flavor blends with a bit of crunch. It's been seven days. Seven days. The corners of my eyes suddenly became hot. Not because it's touching, but because the pork belly is so delicious. I bent down and chewed, then reached out with my chopsticks to pick up a second piece. He finished baking the next batch, so he picked up each piece and put it on my plate. He himself did not eat a single bite.

“Are you not eating?” I asked awkwardly.

“I'm not hungry.”

"You haven't eaten lunch yet."

“I ate lunch.”

"I haven't eaten yet," I put down my chopsticks, "I saw your lunch box. Before I even touched a single bite, you slapped your chopsticks and made a noise."

He was silent for a moment, then picked a piece and put it in his mouth.

“This is not like you.” I said.

“It's not the same.”

“Eat grilled meat. No You don't touch these things? Very high calories.”

He chewed and swallowed, looking straight at me: "You want to eat, I'll eat with you." This sentence was light, so light that it seemed like it was accidentally let out. But my heart sank again. I lowered my head and continued eating, not allowing myself to open my mouth anymore. At the third plate of meat, I slowed down. Not because I'm full. But because I can't swallow it anymore.