During my senior year of high school, I moved into an old house just to save money.

Something about the place felt off.

At first, it was just things I casually put down disappearing without a trace.

Then, random objects that didn't belong to me started appearing around the house.

One night, I finished my homework and was about to go to sleep when a girl's tank top suddenly fell from the ceiling.

I froze for several seconds.

Just as I was about to throw it away, I heard someone cursing out of nowhere.

"Who's there? Darn it! What kind of creep steals a tank top?"

I swore I would never move into an old house nobody wanted to live in again just to save 20 dollars on rent.

I stared at the fragrant tank top in my hand while listening to the girl's angry voice coming from thin air. For a moment, I had no idea how to react.

I casually tossed the tank top upward. It was an attempt to see if I could send it back. To my surprise, the tank top actually disappeared.

But the girl's yelling didn't stop.

"Hey! Who threw this tank top at me? You thief! You pervert! I should be the one getting mad, not you!"

She kept complaining for a while before suddenly going silent. After a long pause, she spoke again. Her voice trembled slightly this time.

"Wait a second. There's nowhere to hide in my house!

"A-Are you a person or a ghost? Come out! I'm an athlete, and I'm not afraid of you!"

I felt a little helpless because I could hear the sound of her bumping into furniture and hissing in pain.

"I'm not a thief. Your tank top fell into my room on its own."

The moment I spoke, the girl went silent again. After a while, she cautiously asked, "Am I hallucinating?"

"No, I–"

Before I could finish, she suddenly screamed.

"A-Are you a ghost? Where are you? Don't tell me you're stuck inside my ceiling! Do you have some unfinished business you want me to help with?"

She wouldn't stop talking. I took a deep breath, picked up an eraser, and threw it into the empty space in front of me.

Three seconds later, I heard her yelp in pain.

I immediately grabbed the opportunity to speak.

"Quiet down for a second. Listen to me. I'm human, and you're human too.

"We're probably experiencing something like a time-space distortion.

"Not only can our belongings be transferred to each other, but our voices can pass through too."

The girl slapped her thigh after the sudden realization.

"That explains why I've lost a bunch of things lately and gained a bunch of random things too."

I smiled.

This girl seemed clueless. How did she only realize something was wrong now?

She suddenly thought of something and continued speaking.

"Oh, is my lipstick with you? Can you throw it back? My parents gave it to me for my birthday. I haven't even used it yet."

"I'll try."

I looked at the lipstick in the corner, walked over, picked it up, and tossed it into the empty space.

Oddly, it stayed right where it was. It didn't disappear like the tank top had.

I refused to believe it and tried from different angles, but the lipstick still wouldn't disappear.

"Why doesn't it work? It worked earlier.

"Could this time-space distortion change randomly? Or does it only appear during certain time periods?"

I couldn't figure it out.

The girl seemed to think about it for a while too, but she couldn't come up with an answer either. In the end, she laughed.

"Whatever. Just keep it for me for now."

Before she even finished speaking, she suddenly slapped her thigh again.

"If objects and sounds can transfer, what about people? Wait here, let me try!"

Like she had discovered a new world, she excitedly started moving things around.

I sat on my bed and listened to the clattering sounds.

"The chances of a person transferring over seem pretty low.

"Otherwise, after all these days, we would've already–"

I had just yawned when an arm suddenly dropped from the ceiling. I felt goosebumps all over my body.

"I did it, but I think I'm stuck. Pull me out, will you? Let's see if my whole body can go through!"

For some reason, I reached out and grabbed her hand. Following her instructions, I pulled with all my strength.

She didn't come through. Instead, I was thrown backward. The arm hanging from the ceiling disappeared as well.

The girl's anxious voice came from the empty air again.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I'm sorry. I didn't know it would throw people back."

"I'm fine. Looks like the time-space distortion can only transfer objects and voices for now."

After hearing my reply, she sighed in relief.

"It's getting late. Go get some sleep. We're friends now. My name's Hannah Scott. What about you?" She asked cheerfully.

"Evan Lynch."

Over the next few days, Hannah and I actively tried to figure out the rules of this time-space distortion phenomenon.

But the more we investigated, the more confused we became.

Sometimes, something placed in one spot would disappear the next second, but if we put something in the exact same place again, nothing would happen.

This time-space distortion seemed completely random. It appeared without warning, and the size of the objects it transferred was random too.

But there were still some patterns.

For example, my food always seemed to end up on Hannah's side. and Hannah's clothes always seemed to end up here.

Once, I finally decided to treat myself and ordered an expensive takeout meal.

The moment I opened the container, the entire meal vanished right in front of me.

Hannah's scream soon followed.

"Evan! Why is my pencil case full of risotto?"

Another time, I was taking a nap when I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe.

I woke up and realized Hannah's clothes had landed perfectly on my face.

Then came another scream from her side.

"Evan, are you doing this on purpose?

"I just took a shower and you stole my clothes! Are you trying to peep at me?"

As time went on, Hannah and I grew closer.

Hannah lived in Kerningham, more than 200 miles away from me.

Like me, she was a senior in high school. We agreed that after the SAT test, we would meet in person. It would basically be our first time meeting an online friend.

Hannah's academic performance was concerning.

Once, my scrap paper was transferred to her side.

She looked at the cosine of thirty degrees written on it and asked if I was good at literature.

Whenever I had time, I would pick a few math problems and explain their solutions to her. She usually started falling asleep halfway through.

One day, I came home and was greeted by Hannah's endless stream of chatter.

I replied calmly, "I'm a little tired today. I'm going to bed."

Perhaps she noticed something was wrong. She went quiet for a moment before slowly speaking.

"Evan, you've been crying."

I was shocked. I asked her how she knew.

"Your tears landed on my face. It was like a silent rainstorm.

"Did someone hurt you? I can smell blood."

I instinctively touched the corner of my mouth. Only then did I realize.

"Can smells transfer now too?"

For once, Hannah didn't answer me. Instead, I heard her rummaging through things.

A moment later, a first-aid kit appeared next to my hand.

"Did it make it through? I don't know how badly you're hurt, but I hope it'll help."

My tears fell uncontrollably. Hannah didn't say anything else. She just stayed there quietly with me.

Only after I finally cried myself out and my voice weakened did she speak again.

"Evan, did someone bully you?"

I rubbed my swollen eyes and replied hoarsely, "How did you know?"

Hannah sighed helplessly.

"Are you seriously someone who lost a fight and secretly cried after the fact?"

I couldn't stop myself from laughing, but Hannah suddenly became serious.

"If someone bullies you again, fight back. Grab one of them and don't let go. They started it anyway.

"If things get really bad, like really bad, just tell them my name. I'll take a bus there during the weekend and stand up for you."

A warm feeling spread through my chest. Even the pain from my injuries seemed to fade a little.

"Hannah, thank you."

Hannah seemed to remember something and suddenly asked, "By the way, what about your parents? You've never mentioned them. If someone bullied you, wouldn't your parents do anything?"

I pursed my lips and stayed silent for a long time.

Hannah seemed to realize she had said the wrong thing and quickly tried to make up for it.

"Look at me, running my mouth like that. Just forget what I said–"

"I've never seen my dad before. The only time I ever saw my mom was her back."

I stared into the distance and was lost in my memories.

"I grew up in an orphanage. The orphanage paid for my schooling, and I earned my living expenses by working part-time jobs on weekends.

"People always said my mom was a nightclub showgirl and that I was an illegitimate child. That rumor followed me from elementary school all the way through high school.

"When I was little, I wanted to prove my mom wasn't that kind of person. I saved money for a long time and paid someone to pretend to be my mom, but it turned out that person really was a nightclub showgirl. I ended up proving the rumor to be true after all."

I laughed at myself.

On the other side, Hannah's voice suddenly became choked with emotion.

"Were the people who bullied you doing it because of that rumor too?"

I hummed in response.

Hannah suddenly raised her voice. Between sobs, she angrily complained, "If they hate you just because of some baseless rumor without ever actually getting to know you, then those people are hopeless.

"At least I'm just bad at studying. They're the real trash!

"Do you have their phone numbers? Give them to me. I'll gather them all this weekend and teach them a lesson."

She sounded genuinely upset as she rambled on.

The more I listened, the less annoyed I felt. In fact, I slowly fell asleep.

Hearing my steady breathing, Hannah softly called out my name. When I didn't answer, she let out a helpless laugh.

"Good night, Evan. Everything will get better."

The next day, I took a deep breath and walked into the classroom.

Just as expected, my desk had been moved to the spot next to the trash can again.

The desk's surface was covered with rude words.

The students in the class looked at me with expressions ranging from smugness to mockery. Even the teacher who walked in right after me said, "Evan, why are you still standing there? Class is about to start. Hurry up and clean your desk."

In the past, I would have told myself to endure it.

I was afraid that if I made a big scene, the school would expel me. I would have no choice but to go out there and work.

No one had my back. That was my disadvantage, but it was also my advantage.

I had nothing to lose. I could risk everything.

The teacher urged me again, but this time, I ignored him. I walked straight toward the boy who was laughing the loudest and kicked his desk over.

The students around him were about to run over to help, but I shouted, "Don't come any closer. I already called the police!

"The cameras in the classroom have been recording the entire time. Everything you've done to me is on video.

"This is bullying. You'll have to take legal responsibility."

The students at the front sneered.

"Evan, your mom was a nightclub showgirl, and you don't even know who your dad is. Can't you handle people talking about it?"

"Exactly. If you didn't do anything wrong, you wouldn't be afraid of people bringing it up. You're acting so anxious because what we said is true."

I was silent.

Even the teacher looked at me impatiently.

"Evan, you're all classmates. They were just joking around with you. Why are you taking it so seriously?

"Tell the police you were just messing around. Say you made a false report.

"We've wasted ten minutes of this lesson because of you. Even if you don't want to study, don't waste everyone else's time."

I retrieved my phone and tapped on the screen. The call was still connected.

"Officer, you heard everything, didn't you?"

The police officer's serious voice came from the other end.

"Don't worry. We've already dispatched officers to investigate. We're currently checking the footage in the security room."

The moment they realized I wasn't joking, everyone's faces turned pale. They quickly started apologizing to me.

"Evan, we're classmates. Why did you call the police?"

"We'll help you clean your desk right now. We won't joke about you anymore."

Of course, some people were still arrogant.

"So what if you called the police? Do you even know who my dad is?"

The officer on the phone happened to be someone with a strong sense of justice. He immediately warned, "I don't know who your father is, but I do know that bribing the police will only make things worse."