Do you have any short stories that make you cry?

In the late autumn of 2003, when I was a freshman in high school, I first heard the name of XX. Let's just call him XX. It's exhausting. The hero of the secret love story should never have a name. For names that cannot be said out loud, XX is enough. Before the first mid-term exam, the girl behind my desk suddenly took a fancy to a sports speciality and could not help but pull us to see him run laps on the sports field. Sports special students found that there were actually girls watching, immediately like buff, 100 meters sprint run out of the strength of eating milk. After the table but suddenly cold face, disappointed appearance. After returning to work, she announced that she did not like the sports talent. I said why, and she said didn't you see? When he sprinted, he ran into the wind, his face shaking like hell! He! Face! Shake! For the back desk, "like" is just a kind of sustenance. Adolescent girls dream of hovering in the air with wings, always looking for the real body as a place to settle down. It's just a pity that the host of sports talent is not perfect enough. I'm sorry for her expectation. School sat on the bus seat, from as far afield as bumpy all the way back to school on the outskirts of the city center, I look at the door outside street view, head also in an infinite loop "his face shake shake shake his face his face..." "While laughing, while also some eager to try. I want to find someone to like. But just think about it. The thought was instantly crushed by the weight of the shoulders. The bag is heavy with exercise books, so many new students in the competition, each looks good, my own junior high school grades are not bad, if the first test in the new class on the bottom, is not lost to the dead... The girl's mind turned into a sigh, as dusty as the street scene. After the midterm exam, I helped to organize the grade table in the head teacher's office, which would be handed out to everyone at the parent-teacher meeting after school. I was ready to take a good print of the original manuscript to copy, suddenly was the class teacher stopped, she pointed to the topic of the blank, said, you write here, X class, XX, math 150, physics 98, chemistry...... I a painting, because it is dictation, so the XX name is written wrong, the class teacher instinctively felt wrong, holding the paper to another teacher brandishing, asked XX name exactly how to write. The teacher strongly disagreed with our head teacher using XX as a typical example. That teacher also teaches Chinese, and XX's Chinese score is... Ha ha. All the grades are beautiful, only the Chinese lost face, I am their Chinese teacher will not be willing to tree this kind of typical. After reading the lively, I re-printed a form, copied many copies, and that wrote the name of XX, originally want to throw away, I do not know how to fold good stay up. In fact, the first place is another girl, but the attention is the XX of the next class. In our high school, which is good at science, more attention has always been paid to mathematics and physics, and this so-and-so, in these three subjects almost did not deduct points. I just returned to the class, I heard the girl after the table chanting the name of XX, heard XX junior high school on how how, he usually is how, he...... Since that day, XX completely replaced the sports specialty, became a host of girls fantasy. I turned my head and asked the back table, what if this XX looks like a gorilla? The back table snorted a, no, I went to their class door to watch. I at that time but a natural force girl, lightly smile turned back to do the problem. Girls' curiosity and worship of this XX, more foil my independence of outstanding style, calm self... The bottom line is, I'm so fucking special. I have had several opportunities to meet XX. For example, the girl at the back table stood up and said XX, their class is playing ball outside. Let's go and watch. For example, my deskmate with outstanding grades held a note with extremely ugly handwriting and said that this was XX's competition note. I asked for leave to go home. Could you help me send it to the next class? The answer to both of them is no. Strange to say, other people I will be peaceful to follow the crowd, to XX here, unexpectedly uncomfortable up. A little jealous, I guess. I envy smart people, since childhood Olympiad is my nightmare, until the entrance to key high school, I have never been at ease with their intelligence quotient, always feel that just because of hard work to have a chance and good minds on an equal level, a little relaxed will fall to the bottom, why is God so unfair. The feeling of inferiority is spreading in XX. I wish he looked like a gorilla. And so the days passed. I sat in the classroom next to XX class for a whole year, their class classmates almost mixed a face familiar, I still have not seen him. I almost fell out with the girl at the back table because of him. In the afternoon of early summer, I went to the snack shop with the back table to buy ice cream to eat, through the playground, across a row of boys, seven or eight people, not three or two rub pile, but really neat row of a row, momentum surprising head on. I don't stare at people, laugh at the back table, pass them by. After the table is absent-minded, wait until this row of boys walked for a long time to say, that wearing white clothes is XX. I don't want to turn back, but also know the truth of pretending to force to moderate, very naturally turned to take a glance. The boys have gone far away, and become a row of yoledo. At least four of the boys in there were wearing white, and the others were wearing a derivative of white. Are you kidding me? I cast a funny glance at the back table. The back table became strangely silent. I was hurrying to eat my ice cream before class and didn't notice. When she walked into the classroom, she suddenly asked softly, what do you think of XX? I am one leng. Think of the back of that row of boys, looking so worried about their qualifications. "Isn't it a little short? I said with a smile. After the table BUT suddenly hair epilepsy: "YOU are sick! He's not taller than you! Is it fun to find fault? !" A lot of classmates looked at us, my temper also came up, sneer to say, is higher than me also calculate advantage? We all went back to our places and took a gamble on the lesson. Originally is not a friend, just surface affectionate, so once torn face, say soft words can not find a foothold. At that time, I was not as self-centered as I am now, advocating harmony as the most important thing, so I pulled down my face and wrote a note to her. I was joking. I thought you were talking about XX every day for fun, but I didn't think you would care so much. I'm sorry. The girl at the back table replied, I shouldn't have acted so impulsively. But don't talk about him like that. He's a great, great guy. I'm suddenly curious. "Where is it? "I asked as soon as the class was over, turning to her desk. The back table demurred for a moment before whispering, "I went to the same English class as him and sat next to him. Every time he drops his eraser and I help him pick it up, he says thank you." I:... See after the table eyebrow to stand up again, I hurriedly lackey GROUND FILL UP: "THE RESULT IS so GOOD, so polite again, REALLY GOOD." Kua XX IS EQUAL to KUA HER, LOOK at the table after the appearance, I put that cheap cheap "he do math problems will not excited face shaking?" He swallowed it back. XX words are few, XX is very hate Chinese class, XX most like to sleep, XX is actually a very cold humor...... To sum up, if Rukawa's hobby is not basketball but math and physics, then he becomes a good version of XX. I always remember that afternoon, the weather was fine, I leaned on the windowsill, tilted my head to look out at the clear blue sky, a cloud floating past, another cloud floating past... She was talking about someone I'd never met, all trifles, all nonsense, all conjecture, all wishful thinking. All the best years. XX still maintains an impressive record. Science class Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, but he can always appear in the top three, most of the time the first test. I went to study Chinese in my sophomore year. I finally know what it's like to be the boss. As expected, the first test is better. It also reduces the jealousy of XX. My mom used to tell me stories about playing games with them in the park when I was three or four. Square tiles in accordance with the color from the inside to the outside row into a circle, our family of three along the most outer circle to play chase game, she and my father chased me behind, seeing to be caught up, I suddenly step into the circle, confidently with them said: "I clearance upgrade." Then there was another time when we were having a snowball fight and I suddenly threw a rock at someone and claimed, "I ate a star so I changed the machine gun." And then my mom banned me from playing Red and White. Anyhow I play rascal this habit is from childhood to develop, science class life is difficult, GO to the circle jump, study literature, stand on one's own mountain to call overlord. It is a pity that the worship of science class still exists in the liberal arts class, so I still continue to hear the name of XX, but this time XX fanatics changed into my desk. I don't understand, why, why liberal arts class first is me, we still feel XX the most cattle force? Can someone explain it to me? And so the hours passed in a muddle. Everyone's high school life can be summarized as follows: school and school, exam rankings, choir performance, basketball league, friends and enemies, happiness and sorrow; But spread out, but each has its own moving. Our school is in the suburbs, closed in the dormitory manager, I often peep the next bed girl's romance novels, read tears pour and then secretly put back, chat continue to coldly express disdain for this kind of illogical spring story. However, the girl's mind, oppressed by the heavy science class atmosphere in her freshman year of high school, was stirred loose by these stories, shook the dust on her wings, and flew into the sky. Once for a classmate to celebrate his birthday, we put the table in the canteen together long column, is lighting candles, by the side of a group of boys, the front table girls suddenly excitedly whispered, wow, XX. I reflexively turned to look at them, and a boy turned back to look at us. ... The gorilla. XX really looks like a gorilla! Heaven has eyes! I smiled and sang the birthday song with everyone, hee hee ha play, but suddenly a little lost. Okay, well, not a little. A lot. But why? Their girly fantasies all fall on a specific person, but mine, on a name and a bunch of legends. I hate to admit it, but I'm sad. My parents' response to my unwarranted gloom was, Gee, the baby's grown up. Don't think they're enlightened. They just like to see a girl in love, more like to see a girl in love. If I pull this off, they can break my leg. When I heard others talking about XX, I no longer had the strange feeling of jealousy and curiosity. I just felt a pity and ashamed of my stupid little idea before. What a pity. I didn't really want you to look like a gorilla. Every Friday everyone would go home with a week's change of clothes, and I would wait on the platform with a large duffle bag, with my best friend L by my side. It doesn't matter what part he's in. Just use the letters. L was chatting with me, I do not know how to look at my back, immediately changed into a dog's face: "Ah, today is a real honor, can with the arts and science department first ride together!" I just at the beginning of the reflex to bloom a face "where where we are so familiar with don't see outside you see you this boy always so polite" modest smile, suddenly feel where wrong. First in arts and first in science? I turned my head. This is XX? Not so bad looking... So where did the gorillas go? I realized that I had mistaken him for someone else. XX dressed very fresh, head is not tall, but not short, look very cold. I have written novels about so many characters that I still can't describe XX clearly. That's probably it, but you don't need to know, because you don't want to like him. Or you can think of it this way: my crush and your crush both have the same face, a face that only we find particularly nice, but are forever shy of elaborately portraying for approval. XX came over dragging the suitcase and stood about five meters away from us, looking up to see the stop sign. I looked graciously from his back. That was probably the last time I looked at this guy in high school. I sat in the last row by the window and watched the fuzzy sunset as L and I continued our conversation. The sun is very good, L asked me to take the wrong medicine today smile so happy, I did not answer. I remember walking home from the station that day, even the floor tiles and garbage dump looked better than usual. The station was on a slope, and my house was on a slope, and I had to cross a quiet path and descend a long flight of steps. Standing at the top of the steps, looking down at the scattered houses below and the distant sunset into the urban jungle, a strange feeling filled my chest. More than happy. It was like I had discovered the secret of life, the joy of life, and the whole world was spread out at my feet. I threw down my bag, opened my arms, kicked to run downstairs, quickly rushed down a gentle slope, the wind in my ears, heart in the chest, schoolbag bouncing to beat the bottom, do not know is to dissuade or encourage. My girly heart and I, we flew together. Then he climbed up the hill again like a retarded man to get his overnight bag on the ground. See, we Drama Queens have a hard life. I never think unrequited love is bitter. Love for a person hidden in the eyes, through it, the world becomes a better look. After each examination, I will take the scores of these three subjects of arts and sciences in the same volume to compare with XX; Will deliberately climb the XX class floor to go to the bathroom; He would straighten his collar, straighten his back, and take every step with a high spirit; I would listen to all the gossip about him, even if someone just mentioned XX's name, I was happy.