On the first day of the second year of high school, Zhou Yuan sat in front of me.
The collar of his school uniform is always stained with pencil dust, and there is a small mole on the back of his neck.
I secretly drew a side view of his dozing face in the corner of the physics exercise book.
At the end of the graduation ceremony, he stopped me as I was packing my schoolbag: "Jiang Hu, your sketchbook..." The pages he opened were all about him - the back view of him playing basketball and his frowning eyebrows while solving math problems.
But the last page is a sketch of me wearing a ponytail, which reads: "When will she look back at me?
Intention: secret love