Unrequited Love

Luo Zhi sat at the desk blankly, staring at the new blank notebook in front of him.

The pen lay horizontally on the paper, with the cap left on the side for a long time. She didn’t know how many times she picked up the pen, and finally decided to write the date first—but a few strokes were awkward and could not be written, only leaving a dry ink on the white paper, embarrassing. Gravure.

I've been holding the pen for too long.

Just now roommate Jiang Baili answered the phone and rushed out the door. The instant noodle paper buckets that I had eaten were on the table, and the smell permeated the dormitory for a long time. Luo Zhi drew on the paper blankly, and the taste of instant noodles became more pungent.

In the two-person dormitory, Luo Zhi will always clean the room. She never complained about this. Hardworking is just because her ability to tolerate mess is lower than others, she can't stand Belle and can only do work.

Patience is a great wisdom.

In the morning when Jiang Baili sat on the bed and picked up the Tarot license for "Monthly Calculation", Luo Zhi also took one. After drawing the cards, Luo Zhi stuffed it back to the "wife" on the bed, lowered his head and continued to read Higashino Keigo's detective novel. I don’t know how long it took, Luo Zhi suddenly heard a scream near the ceiling: "Did you listen to me? I said, in any case, you have to be patient and patient! The wise man is good at waiting!"

Luo Zhi raised his head and glanced at her lazily: "Since living in a dormitory with you, I have been forced to become a wise man."

Later on, the "grandmother" in the upper bunk made some noise, she could not remember at all. Jiang Baili began to learn the Tarot constellation Ziwei Doushu from high school, but the control of fate did not seem to change her chaotic life, even she herself was puzzled.

Because you only serve the destiny, not everything. Luo Zhi thought silently.

Luo Zhi did not believe in fate. She was afraid that if she believed in natural disasters, she forgot about man-made disasters. Because man-made disasters can be hated and confronted, and God's will cannot be violated. Once a person believes in fate, what can he hope for?

However, there is a saying that Belle is right. To be good at waiting is the wise man, and patience is indeed necessary.

In fact, no one knows this better than Luo Zhi.

She looked up at her watch, half an hour had passed unconsciously, and she was still thinking about it.

The white paper in front of me became more and more dazzling.

She stood up suddenly, and the legs of the chair made a sharp scream on the concrete floor.

Luo Zhi picked up Belle's noodle bowl, carefully prevented the noodle soup from splashing, and walked slowly to the toilet to dump it. Go back to the room and open the doors and windows to ventilate, then sweep away the snot paper that Belle threw on the floor when she was crying, wash her hands, take a deep breath, and turn on the lamp again.

It seemed as if some kind of religious ceremony started.

She finally grabbed the pen and drew a few strokes on the calculation paper until she drew smooth handwriting.

September 15th, sunny

I met him. Far away, the first glance is the back. The second glance is the big persimmon falling from the sky.

Then the pen tip stopped on the last horizontal line of the word "Zi", and when the reaction came back, the end of that horizontal line had been blurred into a small blue dot.

Two hours ago, she was walking in Beiyuan of the school.

In the early autumn, Beijing had an unparalleled good weather in a whole year, and it became tyrannical, showing a gentle and cheerful appearance.

There were mottled shadows of trees on the ground. She bowed her head and walked as seriously as she did when she was a child. At every step, she had to step on the cross flower in the center of the floor tiles. When she was a child, she went to the furniture wholesale market with her mother to carry packages to others, with her mother in front. She walked, struggling to follow, the soles of her feet and calves were strained and sore. Mother looked back at her, her eyes were red and distressed, but her mouth said: "You try to step on the little cross in the middle of the floor tile every step you take." She tried to follow the rules like playing a game, forgetting the top of her head. In the scorching sun, the long journey of midsummer really came to an end without knowing it.

Just form a habit.

When the wind suddenly rose, she subconsciously stopped and raised her head.

A person turned around at a fork in the road two or three meters ahead, just in front of her.

Even if she changed her coat, she was still the back figure that she would never admit wrong in her life: a few restless hairs stood on the back of her head, her posture was upright, her head was slightly raised, tall and straight, but not pretentious.

She was stunned when a big persimmon suddenly fell firmly, and the line of sight passing by her slammed into the front less than half a meter. If she hadn't stopped just now, she should have hit the top of her head. But its body still splashed with dirty juice on Luo Zhi's whole body-very tragic, whether it was persimmon or her.

The person in front heard the unpleasant snapping of the persimmons and turned around. Luo Zhi hurriedly turned around before his eyes turned to him, and ran away.

As he ran, he wondered if he would laugh at me?

For the first time, she showed him his back, it turned out to be such an escape.

She kept running, running all the time, stepping upstairs two steps by two steps, pushing open the door of the dormitory, and then panting for breath.

Her breath calmed down, and she quickly changed into her horrible coat and trousers. Open the closet and see a gloomy cold tone.

It's not that she doesn't like color, it's just that she doesn't coordinate.

On the eve of the college entrance examination, the whole year collectively went to a designated hospital located in the bustling city center for physical examination. Luo Zhi handed the medical examination form with a large red stamp to the teacher sitting at the door, carried his schoolbag, and walked along the longest commercial street in the city. He was hesitant to go home.

Before the college entrance examination, various complicated matters have been completed. She thought that high school would end like this.

I looked up and saw a bright yellow suspender skirt hung in the window of a small clothes shop.

That brilliant bright yellow.

Mayday put on a suspender skirt, like an arrogant notice of summer.

She was in a bad mood that day, and in her schoolbag were large mock questions and practice papers, which were invitations for the college entrance examination. She is not afraid of the test of crossing the single-plank bridge, nor is she looking forward to and excited about being relieved from the sea of ​​questions. Luo Zhi was more confused, confused as to whether he was closer or farther from happiness as he went on like this.

The inexplicable anxiety in her heart can't be extinguished, and it doesn't work if she persuades herself to be patient and peaceful as usual.

After wandering for a long time, she finally rushed into the shop and vaguely said to the lazy shop assistant that she wanted to try the dress in the window. The clerk glanced at her up and down and got up impatiently.

Her chest rises and falls, and there is sudden courage in her.

In the cramped fitting room, she hurriedly put on the suspender skirt, but it was a pity that the old white bra straps were exposed on her shoulders. As soon as I opened the door of the cubicle, I saw a girl with a dull expression and a bleak face standing in the full-length mirror opposite, half of her body leaned out from the door, shivering and timidly timidly, wearing the old ponytail that has remained unchanged for more than ten years The braid is set off by bright yellow like a malnourished village girl.

She was taken aback, a little embarrassed, but miraculously calmed down.

"You should know who you are, what to do, and what suits you."

Those empty principles just couldn't convince Luo Zhi, who was walking violently on the street, but when he fell in front of the village girl in the mirror, it suddenly became extremely convincing.

She endured the clerk's face, returned her clothes calmly, got on the bus and went home, sat at the desk, opened the book and then reviewed. No one can believe that someone would use a bright yellow suspender dress to sarcastically sarcastically, a teenage girl who practices perseverance like an ascetic monk.

But Luo Zhi has always been good at this.

It seems a little different this time.

She fled back to the dormitory with a mess of persimmon juice, but also because of panic, the same sudden panic as that day.

Forgot to read in which book, when God touches his little finger, a person’s fate can take a turn for the worse. As for why God moves his little finger...maybe it just feels itchy. Just like when Luo Zhi felt very annoying, he lifted his foot and trampled on a little ladybug that was dutifully crawling on the ground. No reason.

She had just been patronizing and ran away, why can she now recall that a second before she ran, his eyes were shifting from Persimmon's body to her ankle. At that time, the boy raised his eyebrows and half smiled, his white neck connected to his jaw, so beautifully curved.

Didn't she panic, how did she see this?

Even if you see it, why can't the pen tip move?

Luo Zhi did write a very thick diary when he was in high school. The diary had only one content, and the words and sentences only described one person. Later, I didn't know what was going on. On the day of graduation and retreat, I lost it.

It’s been a long time ago. I don’t know how to pick up the pen again. It’s been a long time since I can no longer proficiently and easily describe the beautiful jaw line and the expression of surprise with a smile in my mind. I can't get up to the humble satisfaction that a large swath of aqua blue handwriting spread on the notebook.

too long.

She turned her head, and a full-length mirror hung on the closed door. When she leaned back slightly, she could see her image in the mirror: slightly pale skin, pointed chin, and no longer buried after wearing contact lenses. Beautiful eyes—

It was too long indeed, and she didn't realize that she was no longer that village girl. Every high school girl who is immersed in her studies will experience a transformation in appearance when she arrives at university. Because she rarely contacted her old classmates, she had never experienced the polite exclaims "Ah! You have become so beautiful" in classmate meetings, so she barely noticed.

The heartbeat is too fast. The little finger moved by God made her unable to calm the feeling of eagerness no matter how much she thought.

I am no longer the village girl at the time, am I? she thinks.

So should some stories usher in a turning point?

After all, it was no longer the age at which a bright yellow suspender skirt could bring down the demons.