Dreams Come True, Him Within Reach
The Love Left Unspoken
Ryan's Story
I had always secretly liked the boy in the class next door. We originally had no interaction. Perhaps because what you think about by day, you dream about by night—I started being able to see him in my dreams.
"Ryan."
"Lin Jingjing, good night."
I remember it was still mid-July when the acceptance letter from Sycamore City High drifted toward me, carrying the scent of lotus flowers all the way from the city center.
Sycamore City High was the top high school in our city. A few years back, after the school leaders visited Hengshui for an inspection and found their model impressive, they'd implemented sweeping reforms. At some point, a plaque reading "Hengshui Middle School Experience Exchange Partner School" was hung at the entrance too. The new school had a rule requiring all students to live on campus, no cell phones allowed, mandatory uniforms... The rest was manageable, but that "mandatory boarding" requirement. For someone like me who had never lived away from home, it was naturally a bit daunting.
I gazed at the letter on my desk, pushed open my bedroom window. The cicadas sang their long, uninterrupted July songs. The leaves were a vivid green. An unnamed bird glided past. A faint breeze slipped through the window. I sighed, daydreaming about the high school life that awaited me. Absentmindedly running my fingers over the admission letter.
"I wonder what kind of people I'll meet?" I murmured.
Two months slipped by in the blink of an eye. It was time for school to start. My dad carried my bedding, my mom carried a washbasin, and I had my school bag on my back. Our whole family piled into my dad's beat-up sedan that cost eighty or ninety thousand and drove through the gates of Sycamore City High. Except for picking up linens—which parents could help with—registration had to be done in person. The summer heat baked us like buns in a steamer. The northern clouds were well-behaved, drifting in big lazy clusters, seemingly in no hurry to block the sun's glare. It was still the height of summer. The light was blindingly bright. A group of us new students clutched our admission letters and IDs, queuing outside the records office. School uniforms hadn't been distributed yet. Everyone wore their own clothes—different styles and colors—lined up in a long row. In this scorching heat, the only relief was a faint, barely-there breeze. If you looked closely, you could see tiny beads of sweat on other people's necks. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and fell upon the long queue. Each person's shadow lay like a dark ink mark, huddled in the gaps between the line. Some people were gilded in golden light.
I was lucky—I wasn't in the sun. The boy in front of me was very tall. He blocked out all the sunlight. His tall frame carved out a small patch of cool shade for me behind him, giving me room to breathe. I quietly shrank into a ball, hiding in his shadow, occasionally glancing up with frustration at the queue that barely moved. Perhaps because I was so bored, I started staring at the back of his head. The shape of his skull formed a perfect curve. Maybe because he was thin, his occipital bone was clearly visible. The skin on the back of his neck had been reddened by the sun. He kept his head slightly lowered, though I couldn't tell what he was looking at. His hair was cut short, making him look neat and clean. Perhaps because we were standing so close in line, I could smell the faint scent of laundry detergent on him. It smelled nice. I didn't know what brand it was, but it made me feel comfortable.
The crowd stirred in waves. I snapped out of my thoughts, slowly emerging from the shade of his shadow to glance at the long queue. These were all teenagers stepping into a new chapter of life. Facing a new environment, they couldn't help checking each other out. Many were scanning the long line for familiar faces. It was too hot and I was too lazy, content to stay in that patch of shade, unwilling to move a single step. I hugged my head, crouching deeper into the tall boy's shadow. Then I noticed the shadow had shifted. The person in front of me seemed to have been called, he took a small step. I looked up in confusion. The sunlight hit him directly, making even the tips of his hair gleam. Half of his side profile was visible, revealing handsome brows and eyes. I raised my gaze and saw only him, outlined in gold. It just so happened that at that moment, my earbuds were playing Huichundan's "First Love." "Beautiful impressions like first love, silently gazing at those lightning-like eyes." It's hard to describe how I felt in that moment. It was as if my blood had stopped flowing, as if the second hand on my wrist had frozen. The breeze froze the image of me lifting my head and him turning, half his face toward me.
Not long after registration, we were assigned to our classes. I clutched my registration form, searching the bulletin board for my name. The school had posted the class assignments for our entire grade on the board. It was crowded with people jostling to see which class they'd be placed in. I was squeezed so hard I could barely breathe, dizzy in the heat and the press of bodies, desperately scanning for my name.
Sycamore City High Class Assignments:
Lucas — Class 1
Zhang San — Class 1
XX — Class 1
Ryan — Class 5
...
Lin Jingjing — Class 6
Line after line, I searched determinedly for my name. Still murmuring the names as my eyes moved down the list. My eyes lit up—I found it! I was in Class 6! I squeezed out of the crowd, feeling like I'd come back to life. I took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. Nervous about what? I couldn't even say. Nervous about the new environment, nervous about what the new teacher would be like, nervous about whether my classmates would be nice, nervous about whether I'd make friends at the new school. Nervous...
It was time to start a new life. After a deep breath, I jogged over to the school's directional sign, mapping out my route to my new classroom. The sun was still intensely bright. I shielded my eyes with one hand while gesturing with the other. "Hmm... I think I go this way... and then turn like this... then which way?" I muttered to myself. I'd never been good with directions. The problem was, up north, most signs only indicated north, south, east, and west. So every time I looked at these maps, I struggled. I hunched over, feeling discouraged. If only my dad were here. I was squatting on the ground, my face scrunched up, on the verge of giving up, when suddenly a shadow fell over my head, instantly bringing a wave of coolness. I turned my head to look. It was the boy who had been standing in front of me in line—the shadow boy. He was also standing by the directional sign, a few steps away from me. From my angle, I could see his side profile—his high nose bridge, defined jawline, lips slightly pressed together. I must have been crazy, staring at him for quite a while. He stood tall, blocking out all the heat. This boy was truly good-looking, I thought to myself. I stole a glance at him, unsure why seeing him always gave me that fluttery feeling. I pretended to study the directional sign while actually taking in nothing at all. After a while, his figure disappeared from the corner of my eye. As if guided by some unseen force, I had only one thought. Follow him. Just like his tall silhouette back in line. I watched as he walked step by step ahead. I didn't hesitate anymore—I started walking. It felt like I hadn't gone far before his figure disappeared, so I walked a little further and stopped where he'd vanished. I turned my head to look. "Class 5, Grade 1" I instinctively turned toward the Class 5 window. The classroom was sparsely populated, but he stood out sitting in the last row. He sat there, only half his face visible, drinking from a bottle of water, what looked like sweat at his temples. It was as if a feather was tickling my heart. So he was in Class 5. I noted this silently and kept walking. Class 5 and Class 6 should be close. Sure enough, after a few steps, I found my own class. I didn't hesitate. I walked in and picked a seat by the window. Once seated, I looked around at my surroundings. A brand new classroom, though a bit empty. Perhaps not many classmates had arrived yet. The bookshelves were still bare, and a thin layer of dust covered the desks. I looked at the blackboard—someone had written something on it. Probably the seniors from last year. "They thought they were leaving hell, but they were actually leaving paradise — Han Han." I couldn't help but read it aloud. This place? Paradise? Hell? Impossible to know.
That evening during study hall, we hadn't received our textbooks yet. We'd had military training during the day, but evening study hall was still on. Some students were reading prep books they'd brought, some were reading novels, some were whispering to each other. People still didn't know each other well, so there was a polite distance between most classmates, everyone doing their own thing. After hesitating for a moment, I took out my planner from my bag. I didn't have a habit of keeping a diary, but I liked to jot down the important things that happened each day in the little date boxes.
September 2, 2018 — Sunny — Sunday
"Class 5."
"Shadow."