Secret Love · Orange Raw Huainan

Chapter 109 2014 Postscript: A Long Goodbye (1)
In the late autumn of 2003, when I was a freshman in high school, I heard the name of ×× for the first time.

Let's call him ××, it is very tiring to name him.The hero in the secret love story shouldn't have a name in the first place.

For names that cannot be said aloud, it is enough to be called ××.

Before the first mid-term exam in the first year of high school, the girl at the table behind me suddenly fell in love with a sports student, and couldn't help dragging us to the stadium to watch him run laps.The sports specialty student found out that there were girls watching, and immediately felt as if he had been injected with chicken blood, sprinting [-] meters and ran out of milk.

The back table suddenly turned cold, looking disappointed.

After returning to work, she announced that she didn't like this sports student.

I asked her why, and she said, "Didn't you see? When he was sprinting, he ran against the wind, his face shaking so ugly! His! Face! Shaking!"

For the back table, "like" is just a kind of sustenance. The adolescent girls fantasize about hovering in the air with wings, always looking for the real body as a place to stay.It's a pity that the host of the sports specialty student is not perfect, and I'm sorry for her expectations.

After school, I sat on the window seat of the bus and bumped all the way back to the city center from the school in the far suburbs.I looked at the disgraceful street scene outside, and my mind was still endlessly looping "His face was shaking, his face was shaking, his face was shaking...", while laughing, I was also a little eager to try.

I really want to find someone to like it.

But also just thinking about it.This thought was instantly suppressed by the weight on his shoulders.The schoolbag is heavy with workbooks. There are so many contestants among the new classmates, and they all look very good. My own grades in junior high school were not bad. If I ranked last in the first exam in the new class, wouldn’t it be a shame? dead...

The girl's thoughts melted into a sigh, and she was as ashamed as the street scene.

After the mid-term exam, I was in the class teacher's office to help sort out the statistics of grades for the school year. This form will be distributed to everyone at the parent-teacher meeting after school.I was about to take a printed original manuscript to copy when I was suddenly stopped by the head teacher.She pointed to the blank in the title and said, "You write here, class X, X X, math 150, physics 98, chemistry..."

I drew one stroke at a time, because it was dictated, so I wrote the name of ×× wrongly.The head teacher instinctively felt that something was wrong, took the piece of paper and waved it at another teacher, asking how to write the name of XX.

That teacher firmly disagrees with our class teacher using XX as a typical example.That teacher teaches Chinese, and ××'s Chinese score... huh.They have good grades in all subjects, but only Chinese is ashamed. If I were their Chinese teacher, I would not be happy to set up such a model.

After watching the excitement, I reprinted a form and copied many copies, and the one with the name of XX was originally intended to be thrown away, but somehow I folded it and kept it.

The No.1 this time is actually another girl, but the one who gets the most attention is XX from the next class.In our high school, which is good at science, mathematics, physics and chemistry are always more concerned, and this XX has almost no points deducted in these three subjects.

As soon as I got back to the class, I heard the girl at the back table chanting the name of XX. I heard that XX was like that when he was in junior high school, and he was even more so in normal times. He...

From that day on, XX completely replaced the sports talent and became the host of the fantasies of many girls.

I turned my head and asked the back table, what if this ×× looks like a gorilla?
The back desk snorted disdainfully: "No, I went to watch at the gate of their class."

At that time, I was a naturally pretentious girl. I smiled lightly and turned back to do the questions.

The girls' curiosity and admiration for this ×× further brought out my outstanding demeanor of independence, calmness and self-control... In short, I am so fucking special.

I have had several opportunities to see the true face of Lushan Mountain of ××.

For example, the girl at the back table stood up and said: "XX's class is playing outside, let's watch."

For example, my student at the same table held a notebook with extremely ugly handwriting and said: "This is ××'s competition notebook. I am going home on leave. Can you send it to the next class for me?"

My answer is always: "No."

It's strange to say that I would calmly follow other influential people to watch, but when I got to ××, I felt awkward.

Maybe a little jealousy.I'm jealous of smart people. Mathematical Olympiads have been my nightmare since I was a child. Until I was admitted to a key high school, I never felt at ease about my IQ. I always felt that it was only because of hard work that I had the opportunity to be on an equal footing with good minds. If I relaxed a little, I would fall to the bottom , Why is God so unfair.

The inner inferiority complex spread here in ××.

I wish he looked like a gorilla.

The days passed like this.I sat in the classroom next to the XX class for a whole year, and almost all the classmates in their class were familiar, but I had never met him.

Also because he almost had a falling out with the girl at the back table.

In the early summer afternoon, I went to the canteen to buy ice cream with the back table.When passing through the playground, a row of boys came across, seven or eight of them, not piled up in twos and twos, but really lined up in a neat horizontal row, walking towards them with astonishing momentum.

I never stare at people, talk and laugh with the back table, and pass them by.

But the back table was absent-minded, and waited until the row of boys passed by for a long time before saying: "The one in white is XX."

I didn't want to look back at first, but I also knew how to act in moderation, so I turned around and glanced naturally.The boys have gone away and turned into a row of "Yakult".At least four of the boys inside were dressed in white, with others wearing derivatives of white.

"Excuse me, are you playing with me?" I looked at the back table amusedly.

The back table suddenly became strangely silent. I was in a hurry to eat the ice cream before class, so I didn't notice her strangeness.When she walked into the classroom, she suddenly asked softly, "What do you think of ××?"

I was taken aback.

Thinking about the backs of that row of boys, it seems that their qualifications are so worrying.

"Short?" I said with a smile.

The back desk suddenly went crazy: "You are sick! Is he not taller than you? Is it interesting to deliberately find fault?!"

Many classmates are looking at us.My temper also came up, and I sneered and said, "Is being taller than me an advantage?"

We all went back to each other and gambled for a class.

They weren't friends at first, they were just superficially affectionate, so once the face was torn apart, there was no way to find a foothold for soft words.

My personality at that time was not as selfish as it is now, and I admired peace as the most important thing, so I pulled down my face and wrote a note to her.The general idea is that I was joking. I thought you were just joking about talking about ×× every day. I didn’t expect you to care so much. I’m sorry.

The girl at the back table replied: "I shouldn't be so impulsive. But don't say that about him, he is a very good person."

I suddenly became curious.

"Where is it good?" After class, I turned around and asked on her desk.

The back desk held back for a moment before speaking softly: "I went to the same English cram school with him and sat next to him. Every time his eraser fell on the floor and I picked it up for him, he would say 'Thanks'."

I:"……."

Seeing that the eyebrows at the back desk were going to be raised again, I hurriedly added: "It's good to have such good grades and be so polite."

Praising XX is tantamount to praising her. Looking at the beaming look at the back table, I swallowed back the cheap phrase "Will his face tremble with excitement when he does math problems?"

×× talks very little, ×× hates Chinese class very much, ×× likes to sleep the most, ×× is actually a person with a very cold sense of humor...

To sum up, if Rukawa Kaede's hobby is not basketball but mathematics, physics and chemistry, then he will become a good-looking version of ××.

I always remember that afternoon, when the weather was fine, I leaned against the window sill, tilted my head and looked at the blue sky outside, one cloud passed by, and another cloud passed by... She was talking about a story I never knew. The people I met were all leftovers, nonsense, speculation, and wishful thinking.

All the best years.

×× still maintained an impressive record.Crouching tiger, hidden dragon in the science class, but he can always appear in the top three, most of the time he is the first in the exam.

When I was a sophomore in high school, I went to study literature.

I finally realized what it feels like to be the boss, and it really is better to take the first place in the exam.

Therefore, the jealousy of ×× was alleviated.

My mom told me stories about playing games with them in the park when I was three or four years old.The floor tiles of the square are arranged in a circle from the inside to the outside according to the color. Our family of three played a chasing game along the outermost circle. She and my dad were chasing me, and I was about to be overtaken. I suddenly jumped Go to the inner circle and say to them confidently: "I passed the level and upgraded."

Later, when everyone was having a snowball fight, I suddenly lifted a stone to hit someone, and claimed, "I ate a star, so I changed the cannon."

Later, my mother banned me from playing red and white machines.

In short, my habit of being a rascal was developed since I was a child. Life in science classes was hard, so I jumped in and studied literature, and became the king on my own.

It's a pity that the worship of science still exists in the liberal arts class, so I still haven't stopped hearing the name of XX, but this time the fanatical fans of XX are replaced by my front desk.

I don't understand, why, why is I the first in the liberal arts class, but everyone still thinks that ×× is the best?Can anyone explain it to me?
Time passed like this.Everyone's high school life is very similar: going to and from school, exam rankings, chorus performances, basketball leagues, having friends and rivals, happiness and sorrow.But spread out, each has its own moving.

Our school is located in the suburbs and belongs to closed residential management.I often peeked at the romance novels of the girl next to me, and put them back secretly after tears poured down my eyes. When chatting, I continued to express my disdain for such illogical sex stories.

However, the mind of the girl who was oppressed by the heavy science class atmosphere in the first year of high school was loosened by these stories, shaking the dust on her wings, and flew into the sky.

Once to celebrate a classmate’s birthday, everyone put the tables into a long row in the cafeteria. When they were lighting candles, a group of boys walked by, and the girl at the front desk suddenly whispered excitedly: “Wow, ××.”

I turned to look at them reflexively, and a boy also turned to look at us.

...gorilla.

×× really looks like a gorilla!Heaven has eyes!
I smiled and sang birthday songs with everyone, laughing and joking, and suddenly felt a little lost.

Well, not a little bit, but very disappointed.

But why?

Their teenage fantasies all settled on a specific person, only mine, on a name and a bunch of legends.

Even if I don't want to admit it, I'm really sad.

My parents commented on my unreasonable depression: "Tsk tsk, the child has grown up."

Don't think they are so open-minded.They just like to watch the girl Huaichun, and they like to watch the girl Huaichun even more.If I succeed, they can break my legs.

When I heard others talking about ××, I no longer had the strange feeling of jealousy and curiosity mixed in my heart. I only felt pity, and I was even more ashamed of my stupid little thoughts before.

it's a pity.

I don't really want you to look like a gorilla.

Every Friday everyone would go home with a week’s worth of laundry. I was waiting for the train on the platform with a big luggage bag, and my buddy L stood beside me.

His role is not important, just use letters instead.

L was chatting with me, for some reason, he glanced behind me, and immediately put on a doggy face: "Ah, it's a great honor to be able to ride with the number one in arts and sciences today!"

At first, I just showed a humble smile of "Where is it, if you know each other so well, you see you are always so polite", I suddenly felt that something was wrong.Liberal arts first and science first?

I turned around in a daze.

This is ××?Not bad looking, so where did the gorilla go?
It was only then that I realized that I had identified the wrong person before.

××'s clothes are very refreshing, she is indeed not tall, but she is not short, and her expression is very indifferent.

I have written so many characters in novels, and I still can't describe clearly what ×× looks like.

Probably that's it, you don't need to know too clearly, anyway, you don't need to like him.

Or you can think of it this way, the person I like and the person you like both have the same face, a face that only we think is particularly good but is always ashamed to carefully describe it to gain the approval of others.

×× came over dragging the suitcase, stood about five meters away from us, and looked up at the stop sign.

I turned my head generously to look at his back.

That should have been the last time I looked at this guy openly in high school.

Later, I sat in the last row by the window, and while continuing to chat with L, I watched the warm sunset outside, which was particularly beautiful. L asked if I took the wrong medicine today?Laughing so happily, I didn't answer.

I remember walking home from the station that day, and even the floor tiles and garbage bins looked better than usual.The station is on a slope, and my house is downhill. I need to cross a secluded path and go down a long section of steps.

Standing on the top of the steps, looking down at the patchwork houses below, and the setting sun sinking into the urban jungle in the distance, my chest was suddenly filled with a strange emotion.

More than happy.

It was as if I had discovered the mysteries of life and the joys of life, and the whole world spread out under my feet.

I dropped my travel bag, opened my arms, and ran down the steps with a kick, and quickly rushed down a gentle slope.The wind is in my ears, my heart is beating in my chest, and my schoolbag is slapping my buttocks, I don't know whether to discourage or encourage.

My maiden heart and I flew together.

Then climb up the slope again like a mentally retarded person to get the travel bag thrown on the ground.

Have you found it?We Drama Queen (Masquerade Queen) live very hard.

I never feel that crush is bitter.

The love for a person is hidden in the eyes, and through it, the world becomes a better place.

After each exam, I will compare the results of the three liberal arts and sciences with that of XX; I will deliberately climb up to the floor where XX's class is located to go to the bathroom; He has a straight back, and walks with vigor at every step; he will listen to all the gossip about him, even if someone just mentions the name of ××, I am happy.

Of course, as a senior pretending girl, I can't show the slightest interest in ××. I can only rack my brains and lead the conversation to science first with a faint smile, and then to their class. Finally, when everyone finally chats about When ×× pretends to reply text messages or read magazines, expressing disinterest.

Even this pretense is joyful.

When summer comes, it gets dark late, and many boys flock to the playground to play ball during the break before evening self-study.I no longer seize the time to read, but go for a walk on the basketball court alone.Sixteen basketball hoops, I walked around slowly, every time I passed one, I checked to see if their class was playing.Once I found the real target, I would never dare to stand by and watch the battle.

It seems that with just one glance, the whole world will discover my secret.

As I said, after we met at the station, I never looked at him openly again.

Calmly pretending to be looking elsewhere, his eyes are fixed on the vast wasteland in the distance, while the nearby basketball hoop is out of focus, and only a group of people can be seen indistinctly.

He was in the group.

The only time I've seen him shoot a three-pointer is to go into the basket with a hollow shot and a whoosh.As everyone cheered, I turned my face away and smiled too.

Thinking of the girl at the back table in the first year of high school, he said that he is a very good person.

During the summer vacation of the second year of high school, I went abroad to play, and I lay down at the front desk of the hotel to write postcards and write them to him.Write a sentence and draw a sentence, write one and tear one, and finally I took a thick stack of torn postcards to the trash can in the lobby to throw them away.Our tour guide saw it and teased me with a smile: "Miss, do you want to show off your wealth?"

That was the first time I wanted to actually do something to get closer to him.

I liked him before.Now I hope he likes me too.

Once this thought surfaced, I became unhappy.

In the end, I wrote a sheet and brought it back intact.Naturally, I didn’t dare to send him a postcard—it’s nonsensical, with a foreign postmark on it, and everyone will know who it is as soon as they inquire. I’m afraid that others will understand it before he understands it.

But is there anything else I can do?In the evening self-study of the third year of high school, I often escaped for a whole session, wandered around the Flag-raising Square, sat on the window sill of the dark corridor of the administrative area, and thought of ten thousand possible ways to be known by him.

We have the same Chinese teacher in both classes, so I wrote the composition very carefully. After each exam, the excellent composition will be copied and circulated by the teaching and research group.I can at least get acquainted first, so that ×× can know how, um, talented I am.

After thinking about it, he hates Chinese class so much, so he doesn't think I'm a hypocritical sour literati by the way, right?

It's so hard to be a girly girl.

Until one day, my mother picked up a postcard from the floor beside the desk and asked me, who is ××?

As I expected, my mother still likes to hear the story of a young girl who is pregnant with spring but can't get it.

Of course she asked me the classic question: "What do you like about him?"

In the last semester of the third year of high school, the selection of recommended students and independent enrollment in various colleges and universities began.He is a contestant, participating in the recommendation selection; I am an ordinary girl, hoping to strive for extra points for self-enrollment.

The broadcast asked everyone to go to the dean's office to fill in the information. I went late and saw him...and his mother by accident. ×× sat on the sofa with a look of indifference.His mother took the form to ask things, I sat absent-mindedly on the other end of the coffee table, filled out the form with my head down, and glanced at him nervously after writing a few strokes——I was looking forward to the unintentional eye contact, I Will smile and nod to him, and say: "Are you XX? Hello, my name is..."

I'm not a stage fright person.

But he didn't look at it from the beginning to the end, just listened to his mother's instructions sentence by sentence, and buried himself in filling out the form step by step.

We all passed the first round of preliminary review of materials, and took part in the written test held at the Provincial Admissions Office together.I didn't do well in the exam. When I walked out of the exam room, I was still in a daze. When I saw my mother in the crowd from a distance, I was shocked.

My mother, standing side by side with ××'s mother, at first glance, they had a happy conversation.

My father held all the parents' meetings. My mother never had much communication with other parents. She couldn't even remember the name of my head teacher. Now she was chatting with ××'s mother with a smile on her face!
What's the matter with you, lesbian?Do you want to play with your own daughter?Have you ever heard of "tiger poison does not eat child"? !
(End of this chapter)