At school, she would rush out as soon as class ended to arrange chance encounters, just so she could see him twice more. She often told her friends she was going downstairs to buy something. When she ran into him, she would pretend not to notice and act calm, even as countless little flowers bloomed in her heart. If she didn't see him, she would feel terribly disappointed. Her steps always followed his. During exercises, she would sneak glances at him, then turn her head as quickly as she could the moment he looked her way. If she saw him up ahead, she would secretly quicken her pace. If he was behind her, she would deliberately fool around with her friends and slow down. She would find excuses to sneak a peek at him by his classroom door, or go to the restroom on his floor, even though it was a bit far. Just seeing him seemed to make her happy. She cried for him and would do anything for him. Suddenly, the journey from school to home felt as long as a whole stretch of time. She always rode the familiar B53 bus, passing street corners and tall buildings, and stumbling across other people's stories. Along this less-than-two-kilometer trip home, she felt happiness and exhaustion, sometimes losing things and sometimes gaining them. She looked fearlessly at the busy streets, waiting to grow up. Youth is a beautiful dream, filled with the same age, the same feelings, and the same loneliness. But they were different people, each searching for their own sky on a different path. When we meet again, I hope neither of us will have regrets.
Theme: Youth is always intertwined with love. We will meet again one day
