REMIX

After I settled down the whole family that gave me a headache, I carried a stuffed shoulder bag and a pair of commonly used earphones around my neck, and I squeezed onto the train with a group of guys of similar age.

The slow train to Linshi takes three hours. It’s not too long or too short. At first, it was quite fun, but later it became a group of people in the box-like car, listening to the air-conditioning. Fortunately, our team is huge. , on the road by chatting to pass the time.

Even if my personality is better than that of my relatives before, I still can’t find so much to say on this occasion. I habitually became an observer for a while, helping girls in the same club unscrew a few soda bottles. I can’t intervene in movie star gossip and quantum mechanics. He started talking, and finally gave up even agreeing, and sat alone by the window, listening to the song in a daze.

Gong Junye's love to say that I'm mensao is not empty talk.Some people are extroverted and good at communication, and they don't panic when they get attention. Some people are introverted, afraid of attracting attention, silent and stage fright.But I don’t belong to either. I have a fixed external image, indifferent and difficult to approach, but I have no barriers to socializing. I obviously like to sing, but my desire to express is strangely zero. I’m just lazy to socialize. Only people who trust like Fatty will laugh and curse in front of them, and take off the packaging that they think looks good.

For him, a little more than for others.

A little bit?

I look out the window.

Once I returned to a comfortable state of solitude, I would empty my mind and watch the continuous scenery being thrown behind me by the moving track, sometimes with subtle changes, the field of vision suddenly zoomed out, and the light seemed to be angular, crushing a vast expanse of plains and The green hills, the lush and silent summer forest, I took out the notebook in the outer interlayer of the backpack, the ballpoint pen was held between my fingers, the sun was shining red on my face, and my eyes were narrowed due to photophobia.

This is another city with a sea.

The location of our co-sleeping is set at the seaside, a youth hostel with a unique design, the facilities in the room may not be high-end, what we want is the accent of literature and art.The boys and girls live in two eight-person rooms, and the bathrooms are shared, which is no different from the school environment, but the outing itself is a joy, and everyone throws their things and runs outside to buy ingredients for the evening dinner.

It seems that I forgot to say that I came here to do "social practice".

"Summer break!" The president assigned the heavy things to those who are idle, stretched his arms and handed me a note full of notes: "Responsible for buying this, this, and these things in the middle, and then contact the hotel The boss borrowed an electric heating pot."

"it is good."

I took the order to leave, and the exhaustion that I had screamed when I got off the train seemed to have dissipated.I have to walk to the market, the road is very sunny, and the earphone cable around my neck is wet with sweat. I bought some fresh ingredients within the budget and used them to replace the excessive junk food.

In a place with a lot of people, cooking is a huge project—as I expected, nearly half of the people here have never cooked before. There are three or five girls who are handy, and the rest of them are all new ones. The requirements for food are only Stay at the level of "able to speak".Although my culinary skills are not very good, at least I can get on the table. I can cook [-] kinds of instant noodles for Gong Junye. In the final analysis, it is my dad who can support me.

The other club has killed a dark horse.

It's the real faceless senior.

When he was cooking, the girls seemed to be seeing idols. They surrounded the crude kitchen so tightly that it was difficult to walk around and turn around.He is in charge of the cooking, and I help him stack the vegetables, or open the window to let the oil fume out, and when everyone is gone, I chat with him a few times while he is setting up the pot and loading the dishes.

"I don't know your name yet."

He rolled up his cuffs, and tested the temperature of the oil on the high part of the pot with his palms spread out.When I was distracted, I suddenly forgot what to do next, stopped on the chopping board with the kitchen knife, and chopped a handful of celery.

"Summer break."

When I was washing my hands, the dishes had just come out of the pot, and there was a snort, and he leaned back to avoid the splashing oil and water, and smiled with his brows shrugged.

"My surname is Tong, Tong from my childhood, You from Blessing, Ming from Mingcha. Tong Youming."

He is two or three years older than me, and his conversation is calm and prudent, which is fundamentally different from those impetuous and arrogant peers in school.

"A foreign language student?"

I lean back on the counter, eat a lollipop, and nod.

"It's a sophomore at the beginning of school."

Standing in this position, you can just see the hair on the top of his head, the natural black hair that is not permed or dyed, without earrings and necklaces, and the white shirt is also a simple and basic style. There is a small movement of pursing lips, and it seems that there is no sense of disobedience when standing with men and women.

"I'm two grades older than you."

He took a piece of kitchen paper to wipe his hands, leaned over and looked out the door, like me, he didn't want to go out to join in the fun, "Student."

I smiled and said nothing.

In the evening, we went to the beach to set up tables and chairs, set up small light bulbs on all sides in the pavilion, and sat around to eat.In the afternoon we occupied the kitchen, and the president and a few girls used the stove in the courtyard to wash and skewer the meat and vegetables for barbecue. Those who worked before can now rest and wait to eat.

I sat on Tong Youming's left hand side and watched him texting quietly with his elbows propped on the table, to whom did he send the photos he took before dark, and he also took pictures of the hotel courtyard and my earphones, but he didn't take pictures of himself, Shaking his head and laughing with the girl on the right who was drinking, he couldn't tell.

After dinner, I took a walk along the coastline, soaking my feet in the salty sea water, feeling the gravel seeping through my fingers, sliding down, or wrapping my feet completely, and standing there for a long time.The surface of the sea gradually turned dark blue with the setting sun. He walked over, his shadow seemed to be blown away by the wind, and stood beside me.

I pointed to the girl who was going to take a picture of him just now, and said, "That senior sister likes you."

We were in a quiet place, insulated from the intense heat on the shore. He was blocked by the words, but he didn't take it as an offense, and asked instead, "How do you know?"

"It can be seen."

I hand him a piece of peppermint gum.

"It is a good habit to be good at observation."

He raised his hand to touch my hair, without pretending to be old-fashioned, "But I don't like it, so it doesn't have to be embarrassing."

"Senior doesn't like women."

He paused, gathered all the hair between his fingers, and rubbed it lightly.

"Ah."

"So coincidentally, so am I."

He bit the bubble in his mouth, as if laughing.

On the evening of the fourth day, he and the president asked for leave and said they would stay out for one night to meet a friend.

At that time, I was enjoying the shade on the porch, lying on the recliner and was about to fall asleep, when I was awakened by the voices under the window.

"Going on a date?"

"Well... it's..."

He smiled a little embarrassedly.

In fact, the person who came was standing across the road and greeted me from a long distance away, but I didn't say anything.When I saw him again after the car accident, his complexion recovered better than before. I don't know if it was the power of love.

The song in the earphones played a soothing song, I switched the positions of my folded legs, and didn't intend to eavesdrop any further, my arm resting on the armrest hung down, and I called Gong Junye.

Eyes open and close.

The phone didn't work.