Broken sugar
The April breeze carried a hint of warmth, but it couldn't dispel the oppressive atmosphere in the classroom. I stacked the English homework I had just collected, turned to head towards the office, and bumped into Zhang Ya.
The water glass in her hand wobbled, spilling water onto the cuff of my school uniform, leaving a small wet patch. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Zhixia." She hurriedly took out a tissue to wipe it for me, but the smile on her face was a little unnatural.
"It's okay." I took a step back, avoiding her hand.
Zhang Ya is a friend I've known since junior high, and she's the only one who knows about my family situation and the bullying I experienced in junior high. I used to always confide in her, including my on-again, off-again relationship with Li Zichen, and the self-harm I did at night—I thought she was someone who would stand by me.
But lately, she's been avoiding me.
After the last monthly exam, she didn't ask me about my grades; when I was slumped over my desk in heart pain, she just glanced at me and turned away; even just now in the hallway, I heard her laughing and talking with other girls, and when she mentioned me, her tone carried an inexplicable sarcasm.
"Zhi Xia, you and Li Zichen... have really broken up completely?" she asked casually, her eyes glancing elsewhere.
"Hmm." I nodded, not wanting to say anything more.
“Actually,” she sighed, handing over a piece of candy, “I think Li Zichen is pretty good to you. Aren’t you taking it a little too seriously? Maybe he and Lin Wei and Su Xiaoxiao are just friends.”
The candy wrapper glittered in the sunlight; it was my favorite orange flavor. But looking at that candy, I suddenly felt it was too sweet. "You don't understand."
“How could I not understand?” she raised her voice. “You’re just too sensitive! Breaking up over such a small thing, who could stand that? Li Zichen told me he hasn’t been sleeping well these days, just thinking about how to apologize to you…”
"He told you all this?" I was stunned, a chill running up my spine.
Those grievances I only told Zhang Ya, those concerns I repeatedly emphasized, she turned around and told Li Zichen? She even spoke up for him, saying I was "too sensitive"?
"I...I just think it's a pity about you two." Her eyes darted away as she shoved the candy into my hand. "Don't overthink it, I just wanted to give you some advice..."
"I don't want to hear it." I took a step back, looked at her, and suddenly felt like a stranger. "Zhang Ya, I only said those things to you because I considered you a friend."
"I know! That's why I wanted to help you..."
"Help me?" I laughed, my voice trembling slightly. "Help me means relaying my words to Li Zichen? Help me means saying I'm 'too sensitive'? Help me means feeling sorry for him?"
The surrounding classmates all looked over, and Zhang Ya's face instantly turned bright red, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on: "Shen Zhixia! How can you be like this? You're ungrateful for my kindness! I'm telling you all this because it's for your own good!"
"If you truly care about me, you wouldn't talk about me behind my back; if you truly care about me, you wouldn't tell my troubles as a joke!" The pain in my heart started again. I leaned on the table, panting heavily. "We've known each other for so long, have you ever considered me a friend?"
"I..." She opened her mouth, but couldn't say anything. Finally, she threw the candy on the ground. "Who wants to be your friend! Sensitive and pretentious, no wonder Li Zichen broke up with you!"
After saying that, she turned and ran away, leaving me standing there, feeling suffocated by the probing gazes around me.
The fruit candy on the ground rolled around a few times, and the wrapper tore open, revealing the orange candy inside, like a broken heart.
That afternoon, I hid in the art studio and cried for a long time. On the drawing board was the painting I hadn't finished last time, a picture of me and Zhang Ya from behind, taken in junior high school by the playground. She wiped away my tears and said, "I'll protect you from now on."
It turns out that some promises are more fragile than love.
When school ended, Zheng Yiming was waiting for me at the entrance of the art studio. He was holding a physics workbook, and when he saw my red and swollen eyes, he frowned: "What happened?"
"It's okay." I lowered my head and wiped away my tears.
He didn't press me further, but simply handed me the workbook: "You said you didn't understand these questions last time, so I marked the solutions." He paused, then added, "If you don't want to go back, you can stay here for a while. I'll talk to your homeroom teacher for you."
The studio window was open, and a breeze blew in, carrying the scent of sycamore blossoms. Looking at his clean profile, I suddenly felt a sense of peace. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He smiled, sat down at the easel next to him, picked up a pencil, and started scribbling something on the paper.
We didn't speak again. The only sounds in the studio were the scratching of pencils on paper and the wind outside the window. I watched as the lines he drew slowly transformed into a round cat, curled up asleep in the sunlight, and a slight smile involuntarily crept onto my lips.
"It's beautifully drawn."
"Just draw something." He pushed the drawing towards him. "It's yours."
The cat in the drawing was squinting, looking very docile. I folded the drawing and put it in my schoolbag, like hiding a small patch of sunshine.
It was already dark when we left the studio. Zheng Yiming walked me to the alley entrance. The streetlights cast long shadows of us. "If... there's anything you can't figure out, you can talk to me." He scratched his head, a little embarrassed. "Although I might not be able to help much, it's still good to listen."
"Mmm." I nodded, feeling a warm glow inside.
When I got home, Mom was scolding my brother again, saying he'd lost his phone. Seeing me, her anger immediately shifted to me: "Your brother lost his phone, you must have hidden it! Give it back right now!"
"I didn't hide anything." I went into the room and locked the door.
Outside the door came my mother's cursing and my brother's defending voice, like countless flies buzzing. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, and tears fell again.
Why?
Why is my home like this? Why is love like this? Why is even my only friend like this?
Am I really not good enough? Am I too sensitive, too dramatic, and unworthy of being loved?
The scar on my wrist started to itch again, so I took out my utility knife. In the darkness, the blade gleamed coldly.
Just then, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Zheng Yiming: "Are you home yet? I just drew a cat. I hope you like it."
I stared at that message for a long time, and slowly loosened my grip on the utility knife.
Maybe... it wasn't my fault.
Maybe I just haven't met the right person yet.
I put the utility knife back in the drawer and replied, "I like it, thank you."
He quickly replied with a smiley face.
In the darkness, the light from my phone screen shone on my face like a faint star. I held my phone and slowly closed my eyes.
At least, someone will give me a painting or ask me, "Have you gotten home yet?"
At least, there are still people who make me feel that maybe I can trust them again.
At that time, I didn't know that this last bit of trust would be hurt even more severely in the future. And Zhang Ya's words, "sensitive and pretentious," were like a poisonous thorn, deeply embedded in my heart, and I couldn't pull it out for a very long time.
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