Mainly because the short comment is over 70 words and can't be written...
The first English class in the male lead high school reminds me of the Chinese class at the beginning of high school. In the first two classes, the teacher asked us to write essays to introduce ourselves. In the third class, the teacher chose three of them, and the last one was written by me. Yes, I still remember writing “I like to put a red apple on the desk, its fragrance and color make me feel alive.” Not long after the teacher finished this sentence, the girl sitting in the front row I turned around and put an apple on my desk. Later, she became a good girlfriend of my high school.
When my composition was halfway through, the get out of class bell rang, but the students did not ask for a break, but hoped that the teacher would continue to finish. I still remember the touching moment of this moment. It turns out that my own words can also produce fascinating magic. I also had the psychological struggle of knowing the answer but afraid of answering, but after twenty-three seconds of silence, I raised my hand and took one step more than the male lead.
In retrospect, I have also experienced the process from wall flowers to slowly blooming into the flowers. I have had a crush on girls, and some girls have written love letters to me to confess their confession; I study late at night and skip class to comfort my drunk girlfriend; I use pillows to hit the next bedroom at night. ；Playing Monopoly all night to celebrate the birthday of roommates...At certain moments, I also feel that youth is unlimited, and I am more fortunate than the male protagonist, without the haunting of childhood shadows, I just simply enjoy it.
High school is much more interesting than junior high school, how could it be bad.
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