During the activity class, I often play table tennis with the third master, because this is a sport I am fairly good at, and two people can play together.
Once, neither of us had a ball. I was familiar with the physical education teacher. I saw him training physical education students. I went to him to borrow a table tennis ball, but he went back to the equipment room for a while and couldn’t find it. When he came out, he gave me a tennis ball. , "Take it and play, the same."
When I took the Yinghuang ball given by the physical education teacher to the cement table, the third master laughed "pochi", bounced the ball a few times to test the elasticity, and asked me, "Can this be played?"
I replied to him with the words of the gym teacher, "Well, play the same. Come, let's play, one popsicle per game."
He listened to me and threw the ball to me to serve, "Okay."
The score that day was up and down, and he finally won me two ice lollies.
The playground is a little far from the canteen, so I bought two popsicles during the activity class in the second week and went to the playground to find the third master.
At that time, the third master and our classmate Xiao Wang were talking. When it comes to Xiao Wang, he looks like Tian Liang in front and Harry Potter in profile, with big eyes and a blinking face. It was only after I met him that I realized that Tian Liang and Harry Potter looked quite alike.
Xiao Wang was very puzzled when he saw that I gave both popsicles to the third master. I explained to him that I lost the game so I bought popsicles. As soon as Xiao Wang's eyes lit up, he shouted to join in, but he didn't want to play with me, so he took my time and wanted to fight the third master.
The third master put his two ice lollies in Xiao Wang's hands, took my racket and said to Xiao Wang, "Okay, I admit defeat, the ice lollies are yours."
After he finished speaking, he returned the racket to me and started playing with me directly.
I looked at Xiao Wang. He had already peeled off the plastic paper and started eating ice. He watched us play while he was eating. He was very satisfied with this arrangement.
I really like talking to people. It was useless for the head teacher to put the quietest girl in the class by my side. Later, that girl's mother approached our head teacher and asked him to move her daughter away from me... Because that girl also changed. I like talking very much (in class).
The pretty female head teacher called me out and let out a long sigh. I lowered my head to admit my mistake, and asked her cautiously, "Will you transfer me to the last row at a table with XX (third master)?"
The young female head teacher has always liked the third master and me - I think she has a good eye.
The head teacher glared at me, "No, our school strictly prohibits boys and girls from sharing the same table. Don't worry about this, I'll think about it."
After class, I ran over and said to the third master, "The head teacher said that no one in our class is willing to sit at the table with me, so I will say you are!"
I think the head teacher is really nonsense. At that time, the whole class obviously wanted to be at the same table with me.
After listening to me, the third master laughed and said, "Okay, I'd like to sit at the same table with you."
I thought that the head teacher was always so kind to me and would definitely agree to my request. As a result, during the dinner break that day, she asked me to sit in the first row with my book.
The first row has never been seated, and when I went there, I became the first and only person.
In fact, the desks in the laboratory are very large, and even the same desks are far apart, unlike the normal desks that were next to each other. But the feeling was still different. I occupied a row by myself, but I didn't feel the wind at all.
A friend went to help me move the book, and laughed while moving.
I felt uncomfortable in my heart, and I had to pretend that it didn't matter on my face, "Did you see it? Special treatment!"
Because this treatment was so special, I didn't dare to tell my mother, for fear that she would scold me. On the second day of class, every teacher in the class would put up an unintelligible smile when they saw me.
In the Chinese class that day, I wonder if the head teacher wanted to appease me, and gave me the highest score for my composition, and even asked me to recite in front of the podium. In fact, I don't need to go to the podium at all, I can stand up in my seat and turn around to face the whole class.
When the sun was about to set, it was the self-study class, and I drowsily propped my chin and turned to look at the scenery outside the window. There are probably classes downstairs with activity classes, which are noisy and in stark contrast to the quiet writing in the class.
When I was dazed enough, when I turned back to continue my homework, I found the shadow of a pigeon on the yellow podium not far in front of me. I turned around curiously, and saw the third master in the last row, his hands clasped together, flickering and flickering, that is the pigeon with wings on the podium.
I stretched out my hand, and sure enough, I saw the shadow of my own hand. I made a dog-head gesture and looked back at the third master. He was smiling at me, and then I couldn't help laughing too.
That was my first sincere laugh since I moved to the new seat.
He did that because there was this sentence in the composition I read that day:
The sun cast a shadow on the wall, and the days are slowly getting old.
In the winter of that year, I walked out of the classroom with the third master after school. As a result, I met the third master's father in the corridor who had something to pick up the third master. Obviously we have a very simple relationship, but when we suddenly bumped into our parents, we were inexplicably nervous.
To be precise, the third master was nervous. He wouldn't say anything when he was nervous. He pointed to his father and told me, "This is my father."
fall! What the hell is this thick Republic of China tone? !
I was also infected by his nervousness. Following his words, I bowed 90 degrees and said, "Hello, uncle!"
When we saw the parents of the classmates shouting "uncle and aunt", this kind of gift also startled the third master's father, who nodded at me and said "hello".
The next day I asked the third master if his dad said anything to me, and the third master told me, "My dad thinks your black down jacket is stupid."
I felt that after the words "that black down jacket" were probably deleted, it was his father's impression of me.
Moreover, this impression, until today, nine years later, is still the basic evaluation of my third master and his father...
The author has something to say: Yesterday, I saw someone say why the style of literature and art changed. I was shocked and suddenly panicked...
I just became a joker for a few days, and I encountered a bottleneck in my career! This is how to do!
I thought about what the problem was for a long time, and finally I just came up with a possibility - the third master's style of painting has changed.
Yes, before he was nice to me, he was like this kind of pure boy, a small character who doesn't like to talk, just quietly looks at you and laughs, and later that cheap mouth made me want to throw him into the lake The neuropathy is not a person at all!
I can't blame me, I can only let you experience the high school life and fully understand the whole process of growing up as a second-hand product, and then I will show you the current joke!