Thorny olive branch
The early summer breeze carried the scent of gardenias, but it couldn't dispel the awkwardness in the classroom. I was working on a physics problem when a slip of paper was pushed towards me from the side. The edges were slightly curled, and it was Zhao Lin's handwriting.
"Zhi Xia, I'm sorry. We were wrong last time. We shouldn't have said those things. How about we go buy milk tea together after school? It's on me."
There was a crooked smiley face drawn on the note, like a clumsy apology symbol. I held the note, my fingertips a little cold, and a tightness gripped my stomach as I recalled what they had said that day.
He didn't reply, crumpled the note into a ball, and threw it into the deepest part of the desk drawer.
During afternoon self-study, Li Ting came over again, holding a piece of chocolate with a shiny wrapper. "Zhi Xia, this is for you. My mom brought it back from abroad. It's pretty good."
Her smile was forced, but her eyes darted away, avoiding my gaze. The cloying sweetness of chocolate wafted over, as if mocking something.
"No need." I didn't look up, the tip of my pen drawing a straight line on the draft paper. "I don't like chocolate."
"Don't be like that," she said, placing the chocolate on my desk with a slightly ingratiating tone. "We really know we were wrong about what happened last time. You see, we're all classmates, we see each other all the time, it's so awkward to keep doing this."
"Awkward?" I looked up at her and suddenly laughed. "When you were talking about my grandfather, did you ever think about how awkward it would be?"
Li Ting's face flushed instantly, as if she had been slapped. The chocolate in her hand fell to the ground with a "thud," its wrapper tearing open. "I...we were just saying it casually back then, it wasn't intentional..."
"Just a casual remark?" I picked up my pen and scribbled heavily on the paper. "You just said it casually, and you expect me to just put up with it? You expect me to pretend nothing happened?"
The students around her started whispering again, their gazes like needles piercing her. Tears welled up in Li Ting's eyes; she looked extremely aggrieved, as if I were the unreasonable one.
“That’s not what I meant…” her voice trembled, “We just want to make up with you, really…”
"Make up?" I looked at her and suddenly found it ridiculous. "How can we make up? Like before, you share secrets with me, then turn around and tell others? Or like last time, you talk to me with a smile, but spread rumors about me behind my back?"
"I didn't!" she hurriedly protested, but her voice trailed off. "That time...it was a moment of confusion..."
"A moment of confusion?" I picked up the physics book on the table and tapped it lightly. "Li Ting, some things shouldn't be said carelessly, and some people shouldn't be hurt casually. My grandfather is my only relative, and you even dare to insult him. There's no way we can make up."
After saying that, I lowered my head and continued working on my problems, ignoring her completely.
Li Ting stood there, her face flushing red and then pale. Finally, she bit her lip, picked up the chocolate from the ground, turned around and returned to her seat, her shoulders trembling slightly as if she were crying.
My deskmate nudged my elbow and whispered, "Actually, they're quite pitiful. The homeroom teacher called their parents in and they got a really bad scolding... Please forgive them, okay?"
"Pity?" I looked at her. "And what about me? Who will pity me?"
My deskmate opened his mouth but couldn't say anything, and turned back dejectedly.
When school was over, Zhao Lin blocked the classroom door, holding a notebook with a cover featuring one of my favorite anime characters. "Zhi Xia, this is a notebook I copied for you. It made up for everything you missed because you were absent last time..."
“No need,” I said, walking past her. “The teacher has already given me the materials.”
"Zhi Xia!" She grabbed my wrist with great force. "What do we have to do for you to forgive us? Tell me!"
Her eyes were bloodshot, filled with a crazed stubbornness, like a gambler who had lost everything. "We know we were wrong. We apologize to you, we apologize to your grandfather. You can do whatever you want, just don't treat us like this, okay?"
"Let go of me." I shook off her hand, my voice as cold as ice. "I don't want anything, I just want to get away from you."
"Why?!" she suddenly screamed, tears streaming down her face. "Just because we said a few wrong things? You hold a grudge like this? Shen Zhixia, who do you think you are? What does your grandfather's death have to do with us? What gives you the right to use that to manipulate us!"
Those words were like a poisoned knife, piercing my heart. Looking at her, I suddenly felt all my anger turn into numbness.
It turns out they never thought they were wrong.
They apologized not out of guilt, but because they were scolded by the teacher, punished by their parents, and because they couldn't bear the isolation. They tried to make amends not because they cherished the friendship, but because they were used to my "good temper" and thought that as long as they lowered their heads, I would smile and say "it's okay" as before.
But I can't anymore.
Some wounds, once opened, can never be closed again.
“Zhao Lin,” I looked at her, my voice as calm as still water, “I’ve remembered what you just said.”
After saying that, I didn't look at her again, turned around and walked out of the classroom. Behind me, I heard her crying and cursing, like an ugly farce, but I didn't even have the strength to turn back.
As I approached the entrance of the teaching building, the setting sun cast long shadows. Zheng Yiming stood under a sycamore tree, a book in his hand. When he saw me, his eyes flickered, but he didn't come over as he usually did.
We were just a few steps apart, but it felt like there was an uncrossable river between us.
I ignored him and walked straight out of the school gate. The wind blew, and the fragrance of gardenias wafted over me, cloyingly sweet, but it couldn't mask the faint smell of blood in my heart—a wound repeatedly cut by a dull knife, reminding me that some people and things are destined to become the past.
On my way home, I bought an orange popsicle. It was sweet and a little cool. I took a bite, and the coldness made my teeth hurt a bit, but it also made me feel refreshed.
I guess I'll really be alone from now on.
Eating alone, doing homework alone, walking down long corridors alone, staying in the art studio alone until dark.
That's fine too.
At least I no longer have to worry about being stabbed in the back, I no longer have to pretend to be happy, and I no longer have to endure the pain to forgive those who are not worth it.
The popsicle slowly melted, dripping onto the back of my hand, cool and like tears. I looked up at the sunset on the horizon, red like a ball of fire.
Perhaps, one can go very far alone.
As long as you are strong enough and cold enough.
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