13 14 stands for 13 class 14, which is my class before the placement of liberal arts in senior one. It's strange that sometimes some people fall in love with something inexplicably at first sight.
Before we knew each other's names, I was attracted by the girl who smiled brightly with basketball. She is very happy. Maybe she saw the light in my basketball eyes and took my hand and said, "Go! Play basketball! "
In this way, we started our friendship journey from basketball. I still can't figure out whether she was born or whether I was special from the moment I entered her life. Of course, I didn't ask her to verify this question, maybe she forgot.
Her surname is Yang, and I often call her A Ting. She is a cheerful girl who loves to laugh, and she is also a little relaxed. Because of her harmonious personality, we soon got together.
In the morning, we lie prone on the table and have a long sleep together. At noon, we will rush to the canteen hand in hand at a speed of 100 meters. In the afternoon, we either go to the canteen or go to the small shop at the school gate to wait for the steaming casserole mutton powder. In the evening, after the evening self-study, we may go out to eat two strings of gluten. She is very kind to me, so good that she gives me all the meat in her bowl, so good that when my shoelaces are loose, she will squat down and help me tie them, so good that she will be anxious with whoever says I am not good.
I thought she would always be like this, but another person appeared, a boy with dimples and a sense of humor. He is also in our class, and the world of two people has become a world of three people. I am the youngest one, and there is nothing wrong with it at first, because there is still someone who dotes on me. We eat together, play basketball, climb mountains, push the road and watch the sunset. Time is good. That boy bought the same headscarf for the three of us, one for each, and then bragged about it by wearing the small mirror he brought to A Ting in the classroom last Saturday. Once, I lost my headscarf because I played high in table tennis, so I was anxious to look for it in the playground at night. That headscarf is still in my drawer, it has been pillowed and covered with dust. Purple is a very exaggerated color. To tell the truth, he was ugly, and I don't know why I liked it so much at that time.
I wonder if this story is dog blood. Then they got together, and I was the last person to know. And I learned it from someone else's mouth. I looked at the boy leaning against the railing during the evening self-study break. The light of the basketball playground hit his soft hair, and he turned his face slightly, revealing beautiful dimples. I went over and leaned against the railing and stood next to him. I have a strange feeling in my heart. I was surprised at my cold tone and calm expression. I just looked at the shadows of the lights on the court that could not describe the specific shape and asked, "When did you get together?"
He was a little surprised at this sentence I asked, and then smiled. There was some excitement and excitement in that smile. I know he is immersed in happiness. He asked, "You know, when did you know?"
"Just now." I answered like this, to be honest, there is not much emotional ups and downs, but I don't understand, I am not their best friend? Why did you keep it from me?
The world of three people has become a world of two people, but I am the one who left.
Friends and lovers are always different. Before that, I didn't have any differences and scruples about them, but after that, I should always pay attention to my own discretion, and I should refrain from those acts that I acted recklessly because of my good feelings. Later, we were still friends.
They are on and off, on and off. But what remains unchanged is that they treat me as always. When we eat together, the girl will still give me my favorite clip. If the shoelaces are loose, she will still squat down to help me tie them. When I sleep at my desk, the boy will touch my hair. On my birthday, I rode my bike for two hours in the wind and rain to send me a birthday cake.
These feelings seem to have not changed, and they seem to have changed again. I feel good when I am alone with one of them, but as long as three people are together, I feel uncomfortable all over.
Later, I went to 13 17 class to study liberal arts, and the girls went to 1320 class, which was also a liberal arts class. I chose liberal arts with her, but I didn't get into a class as I hoped. And that boy stayed in the original class 13 14, and he chose science.
The day we prepare for the college entrance examination is the moment when we draw a dungeon for ourselves to practice and wait for rebirth, so the contact between us is getting less and less. After the college entrance examination, I met that girl in the corridor when I applied for funding. She stood behind me and adjusted my collar. She is still so careful. She is a little sad and lost. "Ying, I found that you forgot me after you got a daughter-in-law."
The "daughter-in-law" in her mouth is my nickname for a girl in my roommate. I knew in my heart that she was jealous, but I didn't know why I didn't comfort her. Instead, I said sadly, "Friends are like this. Without contact time, anyone will be farther and farther away from whom. "
She hung her head and didn't say a word. At that time, I had some regrets, but the words have been exported and there is no way to save them. Later, she also called me to send messages.
Once, she was very sad and brokenhearted. Of course, this boyfriend is no longer that boy. I can't pat her on the back or hug her on the other end of the phone. I could only listen to her cry and tell her grievances quietly, and then I cried silently. Hearing my hoarse voice, she finally smiled, and I don't know if she was happy because someone cried with her.
When the boys formally bid farewell to the campus, we could only say hello in a hurry, without even a hug. Of course, there were occasional encounters later, but I was carrying something and two bags, which was embarrassing. Naturally, we can't make up for this hug.
Later, I never saw that girl and boy again.
In class 13 17, I met the most bohemian and rogue boy in my life. With a short buzz cut, a thin, white, white striped shirt draped over the thin body, empty, with that unsmiling black face, looks like it has just been released from prison.
His name is W. He looks fierce and annoying. Most people have the same first impression of him. My roommate always giggles and shakes his head, but I'm not afraid of him.
He began to sit behind me, bent down to pick up the pen, and the two inadvertently looked at each other, and then began to look at each other angrily for longer than anyone else, so he kept staring at each other, causing others to come and watch. He always loses the battle, turns his head and says to the boy standing next to him, "Oh, my eyes hurt."
Then he gave me a thumb. I smiled and turned to continue to do the problem.
It seems that with this inexplicable tacit understanding, we began to form a strange friendship. He has a good history and is a representative of history class. This kind of hooliganism can curb the naughty boys in the class, so it is the best time for the boys in the class to stand on the stage and explain the history paper.
I like to ask him historical questions, and he likes me to help him solve math problems. We like to fight, play basketball together, talk about ten deadly sins and a hundred years of loneliness together, and often stand together at sports meetings to cheer for our classmates. He likes to study at night and be the last to leave. I specially read the moment when he got up and walked to the girls' dormitory together. He will raise his hand and wave to me, and then say "goodbye". I also said goodbye to him. I like these two words very much, because it means we will meet again tomorrow.
I like to sit in the last row, near the back door. In hot summer, I open the back door, spread it on the chair and enjoy the warmth of the wind and sunshine blowing from the corridor on my desk. Every time he passed by, he always put his hand on my head and rubbed it hard. I can smell the faint smell of tobacco on his side.
I always knew that he smoked and had a bad temper. We can see each other's strengths and weaknesses, but we never interfere or change each other, only help and encourage each other. He will take me to the school hospital when I'm injured, tell me to back off and lend him my shoulder when I'm nervous about practicing splits, and he will bend down and listen to me carefully. I will appreciate his historical and political explanations, encourage him to participate in the essay contest and listen to the story of him and his ex-girlfriend.
Sometimes it is easy to get delusions when we are together for a long time, but we are not lovers, and this friendship will dissipate with time until the day of graduation. I often dream about him. Some people say that dreaming of someone often means that that person is gradually forgetting you. Maybe so, but I always remember him and how I felt when I got along with him.
13 14 and 13 17 are far away from me, and my high school life is far away, but I still want to see the big clouds on the railing that are dyed red by the sunset.