I often feel that the world is big, so big that it wouldn't matter if I didn't exist. But when I was a child, the world was small, so small that nothing was unrelated to me.
It's the dog days of summer again, the season with many stories. Along with the uncomfortable heat, the sound of cicadas, and the unique smell of air conditioning, there is a figure that suddenly disappeared and a sentence that I will never have a chance to respond to. It was the intersection of two children in a vast world.
On that day, the summer wind blew away the floating willow catkins and scattered the graduating class. As I prepared to leave after the last time returning to school, I patted the hot car seat, causing small dust particles to fly. The dust gathered by chance on my car seat and scattered again because of my patting, just like our enrollment and graduation.
The relationship between me and my classmates was not close. At that time, I liked to act cool, and getting along well with others would ruin the sense of mystery and aloofness that I thought I had. So on that day, while everyone was exchanging yearbooks, I secretly slipped out of the classroom, ready to disappear forever in the world of my classmates. I pushed my bike and walked out of the school gate, thinking about how to relax after going home.
"Hey! Wait a minute!" Just as I was about to get on the bike, a girl shouted behind me.
"What's up?" I turned around and took a look. It was a girl from my class. We had never really talked. I stopped and waited for her. She ran over, panting.
"Let's walk and talk. It's so hot in the sun." She smiled and didn't give me a chance to refuse. "Why did you leave early? You didn't even take the yearbook. I brought it for you."
"I didn't write because I didn't want to bother. Even if you give it to me now, I won't be able to give it to them." I took the thick stack of paper and couldn't help but laugh and cry.
"You should still write it. There will be a presentation in a few days, and you can bring it then."
"I don't want to go. What's the point of listening to a presentation..."
We walked and talked, chatting about many trivial things. Although I wasn't very familiar with this person, I knew some things about her. Although I rarely participated in class affairs, I still knew about the big and small things in the class, so the conversation wasn't too awkward. The process of chatting was also a process of reminiscing, with each word bringing back memories of carefree school days.
"Actually, I feel like the boys in our class are quite handsome," she suddenly said for no reason. I was stunned for a moment. Was she talking about that basketball game? Or...
I suddenly understood her intention. I had heard that she liked Liu, a classmate who had a good relationship with me, and she wanted me to help convey her feelings. Although I admired Liu's elegance and talent, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unwillingness in this situation.
"Am I handsome too?"
"Well... handsome," she suddenly lowered her head, and her gently swaying hair covered her face, making it hard to see her expression. She fell silent for a while, and we stopped walking. "But maybe not the kind of handsome you want to hear."
"Are you saying that there are different levels of handsomeness?"
"Well... yes! Just like every pair of synonyms actually has subtle differences, handsome is the same. It can be divided into many categories, and each category has many different situations..." She gestured and spoke incoherently. "I'm not talking about good or bad, but different styles. Like calm and cool handsome, pretty boy handsome, rough and bold handsome. Some people are handsome in a warm way, some are handsome in an extraordinary way..."
I grew impatient listening to her and felt a strong sense of defeat. I interrupted her, "So which category do I belong to?"
She stopped, lowered her head, and didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, she looked at me cautiously and said in a very soft voice, "Handsome in a way that 'suits my taste'."
A gentle summer breeze blew, carrying away a few loosely attached leaves. I don't remember what else I did that day, and I don't remember what I said to her afterwards.
I finally didn't feel the heat that day.