Xie Wenwen, You’re Being Bad

Xie Wen has been my childhood friend. We've known each other since we were little. He indulges all my whims and puts up with me. I always say he's like a piece of candy: his shell is as crisp as words left unsaid, but his sweetness is impossible to hide. Ever since kindergarten, there have always been two milk candies in the side pocket of my schoolbag. He knows I'm afraid of the dark, so after evening study, he always “happens” to walk me through the unlit alley. Our chat history is full of long, impassioned messages, all started by him. In the middle of a late-night study session during finals week, I noticed a neatly written note full of formulas tucked into his book. I also saw him move my desk lamp closer to her desk, its warm yellow light falling over both their workbooks.

On graduation day, he stuffed a whole box of milk candies into my schoolbag, along with a note: “Every time I pass the corner shop, I think about how nice it would be if we could keep sharing candy like this forever.” I hugged the box beneath a tree and smiled as the breeze carried my words away: “Xie Wenwen, I like you.” “Silly, I like you too.”

As time passed, those unspoken feelings we'd never quite put into words had apparently turned “just passing by” into “perfect timing” long ago.

As we grew up, we became the most important people in each other's lives, and from then on, the sky was bright.