He always held the basketball in his arms, passed through the girls who handed him water, walked to the most remote corner of the stands, and took out the tissues and water in his bag. The sun shines through his hair, sweat slides down his Adam's apple, and his appearance is forever imprinted on my sixteenth year.
Later, he still passed by the girls who brought him water, but ran to me, picked up the tissues and water in my bag, put my bag on his back, held me with one hand, and held his precious basketball with the other.
Concept: Everyone will meet true love