Our school’s girls’ dormitory is built behind the basketball court. There is a small door of the dormitory facing the basketball court. The small door is the closest way to the classroom. In the summer at that time, I liked to hold books on both sides and trot past the basketball court. I used the casual expression I practiced countless times in my mind to glance at the person playing basketball. Is there him? When he returned to the classroom after his refreshing short hair, he always had water droplets hanging on his body after the morning exercises, and every drop that drips were so touching. As long as he sees him, he feels so happy. He doesn't care whether he has it or whether he knows it.
I sat in the first row and he sat in the last row. When I occasionally look back and see him having sex with other girls, I always feel envious, but I don’t know how to integrate. The only interaction may be when hiding in the crowd and whispering to cheer up during a basketball game. After the high school entrance examination that year, everyone was distributing classmate records one after another. He wrote to me "Everything is in silence..."
graduated like this, ended in vain...
