Sis, Your Hair’s a Mess

As I remember it, I first met Xie Zhuo during the summer vacation after my sophomore year.

The boy wore a black short-sleeved shirt and cargo pants, with a titanium steel chain around his neck and a cigarette in his mouth. He stood at the entrance to an alley, opening a bottle of beer.

With a click, he handed the beer to her, his tone casually nonchalant.

"Hey, sis, want to add me on WeChat?"

Song Qiao looked at the boy in front of her, dressed like a little hoodlum, frowned, and turned to leave.

When school started, Song Qiao was a junior. To earn some credits, she was helping welcome the new students.

Xie Zhuo was wearing the same outfit, only without the cigarette in his mouth. He dragged a huge suitcase over to Song Qiao, looking very well-behaved, and raised an eyebrow. "Hey, sis, fancy seeing you again."

Song Qiao looked at him and frowned again. "Is this the only outfit you own?"

After a long silence, the boy suddenly pulled out his phone.

"Then add me on WeChat, and you can pick out some clothes for me, sis?"

"..."

Everyone who knew him said Xie Zhuo had it all: talent, a wealthy family, and a life without a single thing to complain about. He just wasn't interested in anyone, and was destined to be alone.

But behind closed doors...

"Sis, my family just opened a hotel. Want to go check it out?"

Song Qiao pretended not to understand. "What did you say?"

The next morning, Xie Zhuo gazed at the girl's sleeping profile, staring blankly for a long time.

When Song Qiao woke up, the first thing she saw was Xie Zhuo's face. She jolted upright. "Why are you staring at me?"

Xie Zhuo smiled, his eyes sparkling like stars. "Sis, your hair's a mess."

* Talented puppy-like younger man vs. aloof, world-weary older college girl

* Older woman-younger man romance, both inexperienced, mutual healing, not a purely sweet happy ending.

* The title, Your Hair Is a Mess, alludes to Haruki Murakami's short piece If I Love You.

The original line reads: "If I love you, and by chance you love me too, when your hair is a mess, I'll smile and brush it back for you. But my hand will linger on your head for a few extra seconds. However, if I love you, and by chance you don't love me, when your hair is a mess, I'll only gently tell you, 'Your hair's a mess.'"

[This story is entirely fictional and is not based on real people.]

Theme: Mutual healing through love