“Sigh, youth is the age of hormone surges. Even people as honest as Model Worker and Old Parker can’t hold themselves back.” Jack Miller shook his head and sighed, putting down his backpack and tidying up his books as he spoke.

Eric Dawson seemed unusually calm for his age at this moment. While processing the various emotions brought on by the golden elixir, he said, “A girls’ dorm phone number carved into the self-study classroom? Couldn’t that be someone’s prank or revenge? What kind of girl would ask for a dorm mixer like that? Aren’t you afraid you’ll get yelled at if you call?”

Currently, every small dorm room at Songcheng University has a landline, but with the rise of cell phones, they’re slowly being phased out.

“I discussed it with Model Worker. That phone number matches the number segment for the girls’ dorms. If we change the last few digits, we can call other girls’ dorm rooms, right? No need to worry about pranks or revenge.” Peter Parker said, a little excited.

Michael Bolton nodded along. “And girls might actually like this kind of random mixer call. It feels like fate bringing people together from miles apart.”

Eric Dawson thought about it carefully and clicked his tongue. “Not bad, you’ve thought it through. Why don’t you give it a try?”

These two are actually pretty clever.

Michael Bolton and Peter Parker looked at each other, both itching to try, excited and nervous at the thought of talking to and meeting unfamiliar girls.

A random, unpredictable thrill!

“Old Parker, you go.” Michael Bolton pouted.

Old Parker stepped forward, then stopped, suddenly nervous. “Model Worker, you go instead.”

“Th-this…” Michael Bolton was a bit timid too.

At that moment, the onlooking Jack Miller shook his head and said, “You guys…”

Just as Eric Dawson and the others thought he was about to say that studying was more important and that youthful hormones were a bad thing, he put down his backpack, glanced around, walked over to Eric Dawson’s desk, picked up the landline by the door, and said to himself, “Let’s change the last digits to 32—our room is 302.”

Eric Dawson, Peter Parker, and Michael Bolton were all stunned, feeling that the look Jack Miller had just given them clearly said:

“A bunch of wimps!”

Dialing the number, Jack Miller’s face suddenly broke into a big smile, almost bowing and scraping:

“Hello, we’re from the boys’ dorm. We randomly dialed a girls’ dorm number, hoping to find a mixer group by fate. Are you interested?”

“Mm-hmm, our dorm is all from the School of Software.”

“We’re Room 302, Unit 2, Building 7. We just dialed the 32 ending.”

“Oh, you’re from the Chinese Department?”

“Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, okay, okay, you ask them…”

“Mm, mm, mm.”

“Alright, alright…”

During the call, Eric Dawson and the others could vaguely hear the girls laughing on the other end. After a few minutes, Jack Miller finally put down the phone reluctantly, turned around with a beaming smile:

“Done! They agreed. They’re from the Chinese Department. We’ll meet this Friday for dinner. If we get along, we’ll go out for a mixer next time.”

“How about that? Not bad, right?”

After he finished, Jack Miller noticed everyone was staring at him in silence. He touched his face, puzzled:

“Do I have something dirty on my face?”

Eric Dawson’s impression of Jack Miller was completely overturned. He just wanted to make a snarky comment, then remembered his favorite comedy sketch, and, pretending to be emotional, clicked his tongue and shook his head:

“Who would’ve thought, who would’ve thought, Jack, even you, with your thick eyebrows and big eyes, have betrayed the revolution!”

Everyone burst out laughing, even Jack Miller couldn’t help but laugh, wagging his finger: “Revolutionary partners, revolutionary partners—revolutions need partners too!”

After a round of laughter, they quickly started talking about Friday’s mixer. Even though it was only Monday, Jack Miller, Michael Bolton, and Peter Parker were already imagining and boldly speculating.

Eric Dawson listened for a while, and suddenly the image of Grace Bennett flashed through his mind, and his mood shifted from playful to calm.

If you have a crush on a girl, is it really okay to meet other girls and go out for a mixer?

I don’t care what others think, I just feel like I can’t get past myself…

He thought for a moment and said, “Jack, I have something to do on Friday. I need to go downtown, so I won’t join the mixer.”

“What’s up?” Jack Miller asked in surprise.

“Something at home.” Eric Dawson lied—no one would believe the truth anyway.

Jack Miller didn’t hesitate and nodded. “Alright, then can you ask Casanova if he’s free? We need four people, otherwise it’s not very polite.”

Uh, he agreed so quickly, almost like he was waiting for this… Eric Dawson was stunned for a moment, then asked, “Why ask Casanova?”

Jack Miller glanced at Michael Bolton and Peter Parker, chuckled, and said:

“You know, we’re all honest and a bit awkward, not good at talking. At mixers, you need someone who’s good at starting conversations. I’d thought about asking Casanova before, but five people would be too many. Now that you’re not going, it’s perfect…”

You’re honest and awkward, not good at talking… Eric Dawson thought of how Jack Miller had just been chatting and laughing with the girls, and stared at his face again.

“What’s wrong?” Jack Miller asked, puzzled.