On the display board, his star pointed to her name; three years later, the card read "I also have a vacancy."
Everyone thought that it was me, Lu Xingye, who was chasing Su Zhiyu.
When I was in the first grade of high school, she gave me a lecture. In order to continue sitting next to her, I sweated out an application form saying "I won't hand it in".
Later, they were divided into different departments and five rows of seats were separated.
I handed her the first piece of paper: "This time we are no longer at the same table."
She borrowed books from my class while the whole class was watching, and I sealed the petals she dropped into a card.
The head teacher watched me for three years, and my classmates discussed it for three years.
On the day when the college entrance examination ended, I stood at the foot of the steps - the same position, third year.
I handed her the card with the broken flower petals sealed inside.
Su Zhiyu didn't take the card.
She opened her palm, and inside was a crumpled candy wrapper—the one I placed three years ago.
She said: "Not even close."
This is what I said to her back then.
It turns out that I am not the only one counting the days these past three years.
