Breakfast was over.
The two worked in perfect sync at the kitchen counter and began preparing their summer refreshment drinks.
In the white porcelain teapot, the emerald green tea leaves unfurled in the hot water, the steam lingering in the air carrying the fragrance of tea. Ten minutes later, the amber tea liquid was slowly filtered out, its crystal-clear luster flowing into the glass pitcher.
Watching the amber tea gradually cool down in the glass pitcher, when the temperature was just right, they'd put it in the fridge to chill.
Jack stood by the sink in the yard.
Fine white salt granules made a soft rustling sound against the lemon skins. The lemons rotated in his palm, gradually revealing their bright yellow color, and the air filled with a fresh citrus aroma.
On the other side.
Ethan skillfully pulled out a small pot and added equal proportions of white sugar and water that he'd prepared in advance.
"Whoosh—" The burner lit up.
He held a wooden spoon in his right hand and adjusted the heat with his left, continuously stirring while heating on high. The sugar granules turned into fine bubbles that surged upward.
Once the sugar water came to a boil, he turned it down to medium-low heat to let the water evaporate slightly and the syrup thicken.
Then he quickly added the pre-squeezed lemon juice and stirred rapidly. The syrup slowly took on a perfect amber color.
Finally, he poured the prepared syrup into a large bowl to let it cool.
"Yo Ethan, how's it going over there!"
"I'm all done here. Gonna go brew the tea now."
"It's ready, come on over for tea!"
Jack sat at the tea table in the living room, leisurely cleaning the tea set, and soon the aroma of tea rose with the steam.
In a household with a Japanese grandmother, tea was an essential part of daily life. Whenever a guest entered the door, the first thing to do was always to boil water and brew tea.
When the two were kids, they'd always seen their elders sitting in front of the tea tray—warming cups, rinsing tea, brewing—a whole sequence of movements flowing smoothly, the tea fragrant and refreshing.
Growing up watching this, they'd naturally learned to brew and appreciate tea, and both had developed a taste for it.
"You drink first, I'll be right there." In the kitchen, Ethan was pouring the boiled syrup into a large bowl to cool.
After finishing, he wiped down the stove—something he'd learned from his mother. Whenever you used the kitchen, you always cleaned up after yourself.
He came to the living room and sat on the couch.
"Have some, just brewed it." Jack pushed over a cup of tea.
Tea! In American culture, it might not be as central, but in households like theirs with Asian heritage, it was everything.
The two of them sat on the couch like this, slowly savoring the fragrant tea.
Sometimes you had to admit that drinking tea really was an elegant state of being. It put you in a very comfortable state. There was even a saying that drinking tea could cultivate your temperament and help you appreciate life.
The hot tea slid over the tip of the tongue, the fragrant and smooth taste bringing a sense of peace. In this small moment over tea, all worries disappeared, fatigue melted away, leaving only the joy of sitting across from a close friend.
"Yo Ethan! Have you thought about which university you wanna go to?"
Jack asked while sipping his tea.
Ethan sat quietly at the tea table, his fingertips gently rubbing the rim of the cup, his eyes gazing out the window through the rising steam, lost in thought for a long moment.
The early June morning sunlight shone through the glass windows, casting dappled light and shadow on the tea table, creating a warm atmosphere.
"New York. NYU." His voice was steady and soft, but firm.
Jack didn't speak. His hands kept moving through the tea ceremony, and all you could hear was the faint sound of tea being poured.
Ethan looked at Jack, the tea reflecting his calm eyes. "Jack, you gotta work hard too, man. Ask me anytime you can't figure something out, and remember those problems I'm giving you."
"New York City is one of the greatest cities in the world—incredible culture, top universities. I really hope you can get into a school there too."
Jack looked at his friend's expectant gaze. For a moment, the teacup in his hand felt incredibly heavy. When he came back to his senses, he still replied firmly, "Alright! In these last 20 days, I'm gonna give it 200% of my effort. No matter what my final score is, I'm applying to schools in New York with you."
Ethan smiled when he heard this, raised his hand, and drank the warm tea in one gulp.
When the porcelain cup landed on the table, it made a solid "thunk" sound, as if sealing this agreement.
"Alright! Time to get to work!"
Jack also downed the remaining tea in one gulp.
"Damn, that was quick. Didn't even get to sit for long."
"Let's go, let's go."
About half an hour passed.
The two of them had finally finished muddling all the lemons, and their hands were about to fall off.
Jack firmly believed that if he did this every day, he'd probably develop some serious forearm muscles in less than a month.
The dining table was neatly lined with three hundred plastic cups, each one evenly filled with amber tea, with a few Meyer lemon slices suspended in the liquid. Condensation droplets slowly slid down the cup walls.
"Whew—" Jack shook out his numb wrist. Although he was exhausted, he looked full of energy.
He casually grabbed a cup of freshly made lemon tea, added a few ice cubes, then tilted his head back and downed more than half of it. The cold tea slid down his throat, washing away the fatigue throughout his body.
"That's the stuff! This work is way more tiring than studying." He wiped the tea from the corner of his mouth.
The two carefully fastened each cup lid, the plastic lids making a crisp "snap" sound as they sealed against the rims.
After finishing all the preparations, Ethan checked the time on his phone. "We can take a break. It's still pretty early—let's not head out just yet."
Jack made an "OK" gesture with his hand, then walked over to the couch and flopped down directly onto it.
.....
It was scorching hot today.
In front of the entrance to Lincoln High School.
The blazing sun was softening the asphalt pavement, and the shimmering heat waves slightly distorted the scenery in the distance.
On SAT exam day, you didn't even have to think about it—in weather this hot, after the exam ended, the first thing a bunch of people would want was definitely a cold drink.
"Creak—creak—"
An old cargo bike slowly approached, its rusty chain accompanying Ethan's pedaling with a rhythmic groan.
The bike was loaded with a cooler stuffed full of handmade lemon tea and lemonade, making a "clank-clank" sound on the bumpy road.
There was a regular bicycle following behind the cargo bike, and if you looked closely, it was Jack riding it.
Hearing the sound outside, the window of the security booth was pushed open with a "creak." Old Mr. Martinez poked out his sun-tanned face. He squinted and looked over, and after seeing who it was, the wrinkles on his face relaxed. "Oh! Turns out it's Ethan—thought it was some old-timer rolling up here!"
He asked with a smile, "Ethan, where'd you dig up this old relic?"
Ethan grinned when he heard this, the cargo bike's chain still beating out its rhythm with "click-click" sounds.
He skillfully parked the bike and pulled out a cup of lemon tea covered in condensation from the cooler. "Mr. Martinez, try this. Just made it fresh."
Mr. Martinez took the cup, and the cold touch made him sigh comfortably. The two of them had developed a pretty solid friendship over the years.
Throughout his three years of high school, the security guard had seen this teenager show up at the school gate every morning—which was normal enough. But what had caught his attention was that this kid would always bring him little gestures of warmth—sometimes a bottle of water, sometimes a snack, sometimes just stopping to chat with him. And Mr. Martinez would occasionally bring some treats for the kid too.
Their friendship had formed slowly over time.
"Yeah! Haha, figured I'd roll this old thing out to make some pocket money, you know?"
Ethan wiped the sweat from his forehead, skillfully setting up the folding table and chairs. "Plus it's got character—perfect for running a stand."
The two quickly unloaded the goods. Ice cubes clattered in the insulated bags. Several boxes of iced handmade lemon tea and lemonade, plus a hand-written chalkboard price sign—Handmade Lemon Tea $7/cup.
The remaining boxes were loaded onto Jack's cargo bike to sell at Jefferson High School.
Ethan called out, "Yo Jack, Jefferson's all yours, man."
Jack nodded, and before leaving, he didn't forget to grab a cup of lemonade from the table. "Bro, you got nothing to worry about."
There are 20 advance chapters ahead in my Patreon. If you are interested can check it out.
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