Little C, that's what I call him. Because when I write about my longing for him, if someone sees me, I can naturally say that I made it up. Fifteen-year-old girls always like to hide things about "love" very deeply and not easily reveal any cracks for people to peek. But I still used my best highlighter to write your name over and over again, "Little C, Little C, Little C..." In the little notebook in my extremely cherished candy house, I locked it in the drawer and hid the love of my entire youth...