Youth Is One Person's Chaos (The End)

Epigraph

In this world, how many people love in the name of friendship.

Later, I stopped liking promises. If a promise is kept, it's taken for granted; if it isn't, it's betrayal.

So when you ask me why I never confessed, please don't doubt it: there was a foolish person who chased that shining star through an entire youth.

Papaya was my classmate. Because he was big and burly, and often liked to pretend to be a literary youth, holding a book, rocking his head, reciting: “She threw me a papaya; I repaid her with a jade pendant,” we all called him Papaya.

We all thought Papaya was an honest guy. In student days, honest guys inevitably suffer all kinds of “humiliation and torment.” No matter how we teased him, Papaya never got angry; he just sat there grinning cheerfully.

Papaya also often bought us snacks and food, which further cemented his identity as an “honest guy.”

In our common understanding, honest guys were the most well-behaved students: excellent grades, outstanding in both character and academics, and most importantly—they weren't supposed to date early. Papaya managed the first two, but later he still broke the rule.

He took a fancy to a girl in the humanities class.

Papaya didn't dare strike up a conversation. Every day he waited at the humanities class's grade office; after the girl turned in her homework, he would sneak it out and write a sentence in her homework notebook.

After several weeks like this, the girl still hadn't noticed Papaya. He couldn't hold back anymore. He spent 5 yuan buying the girl's QQ number from a boy in the humanities class. Papaya wanted to get to know her no matter what.

The girl was called Strawberry. To Papaya's surprise, Strawberry had already known of Papaya through the grade honor roll.

That night, Papaya and Strawberry chatted late into the night.

“Papaya's in love!”

The first to catch on was Pig Head. This guy couldn't do much else, but his gossip skills ranked among the very best in the entire second year of high school.

When we got this news, a few of us expressed deep sorrow: another three-good student had fallen like this. Why didn't we even have the chance for this kind of fall?

After that, every time school let out, you could always see a delicate figure through the classroom window. Papaya, who used to stay in the classroom studying until dark after school, seemed like a different person, bouncing out to rendezvous with Strawberry. It really made us single, ambitious young men green with envy.

After being lovey-dovey with Strawberry for quite a while, Papaya finally remembered us and started bringing Strawberry out to hang out with us. Although Strawberry was petite, her personality was sunny and cheerful, and she quickly became familiar with us. From time to time she'd ask us to keep an eye on Papaya. To keep us from saying the wrong things in front of Strawberry, Papaya had to increase the frequency of his snack tributes. With such a sweet gig, we forgave the two of them for their occasional displays of affection.

Once when we went out to eat, after buying milk tea and ice cream, Papaya's wallet had almost nothing left. We joked that we were going to squeeze his original capital dry.

Papaya said urgently, No way, I still need to keep one yuan to buy Strawberry.

Strawberry was a bit unhappy and said, Is my worth only one yuan? At the very least it should be a few million.

Papaya giggled, Because one yuan is all the money I have left.

Strawberry: Oh I get it, you're a big swindling papaya. You only spent one yuan to buy me, so later you'll buy lots more strawberries.

Papaya suddenly became serious: I'll only ever have you as my one strawberry, whether now or in the future. I don't swindle people.

Everyone was speechless, inexplicably subjected to a public display of affection.

Later came senior-year exam prep.

Strawberry's grades weren't that great, so Papaya naturally tutored her.

So, in the classroom after school every day, in the study rooms every weekend, Papaya and Strawberry's figures were always there.

When he explained problems, Strawberry's brows furrowed slightly, nodding from time to time, while Papaya would giggle foolishly after finishing.

Strawberry said she'd bombed the math monthly exam. The next day, Papaya handed over a compiled math notebook, and at the same time, Papaya's name appeared on the missing-homework list for the first time.

We often earnestly, painstakingly lectured Papaya: You can't take a girlfriend too seriously, kid. Senior year only happens once; girls are everywhere on the street.

But Papaya just wouldn't listen. He said there was only one strawberry in his world.

We all felt “deeply pained” about this, but there was nothing we could do. How could Papaya be so stubborn?

Maybe Strawberry's aptitude was still a bit lacking. Even though Papaya devoted himself to tutoring her, providing all kinds of notes and study methods, Strawberry's grades just wouldn't go up. Papaya got a bit anxious, as if he himself had bombed the exam, even though he almost never had.

Another monthly exam, and Strawberry “disappointingly” slipped again. Of course she was very sad, but the person even sadder than her was Papaya. Papaya spent a whole afternoon analyzing this exam for her.

That very night, Strawberry said to Papaya: Papaya, from now on let's not text and chat every night, okay?

Papaya agreed. After all, studying should come first at this time. They agreed to go to the same city and work hard together.

Although they contacted each other less, Papaya and Strawberry's relationship didn't seem affected. It's just that Strawberry no longer had Papaya wait for the bus with her every day.

Papaya said Strawberry was really considerate, knowing his grades had slipped recently, and not taking up his study time.

As Strawberry gradually “faded out,” Papaya was able to throw himself back into our “embrace.” Papaya's figure returned to the basketball court, and we saw him again in the group heading home together after school. In our exhausted, monotonous lives, we counted down to the gaokao.

The days of exam prep were uneventful.

“Papaya, where's your girlfriend? How come she hasn't come looking for you lately?” someone asked Papaya about Strawberry. Papaya said, The gaokao is coming soon; she and I agreed to study hard.

Someone asked Papaya if he and Strawberry had broken up. Papaya always said cheerfully, How could that be? We're doing great.

In fact, Papaya and Strawberry were still in constant contact. Every few days, Papaya would take a notebook filled with notes to Strawberry, and while he was at it, answer a few problems for her.

According to Papaya, although they no longer chatted idly every night, Strawberry would occasionally ask some questions, and in the course of explaining, the two of them would still laugh and joke.

Because of his investment in studying, Papaya quickly returned to the top ten in the grade. We could only silently look up to the academic ace.

When we asked how he was so good, he said it was because he had a considerate girlfriend, which made our teeth itch with irritation.

After the third mock exam, there was less than half a month until the gaokao. Strawberry's grades still weren't ideal, but with Papaya's help they had finally improved somewhat. Papaya was very anxious. To let Strawberry put as much time as possible into studying, he no longer took the initiative to chat with her.

Those ledger-like days before the gaokao made you truly feel time passing. Watching the countdown on the little blackboard, from 14 days to 7 days, then from 7 days to 3 days, then forever frozen at 3 days remaining. After the 3-day holiday, we would step onto the gaokao battlefield, with pens as our weapons, seeking our futures in a slaughter among tens of thousands.

With the curtain falling on the gaokao, our high school years also ended. Classmates scattered in a rush, flying off into their own worlds.

As our buddy, Papaya naturally joined us in letting loose at the graduation revelry.

Strawberry didn't ask Papaya out. Maybe she was hanging out with her classmates too. Papaya said that after the gaokao, there should have been lots of time, but chats with Strawberry were still few.

Papaya figured Strawberry probably hadn't done well on the exam, so he didn't take it to heart and continued our revelry.

The gaokao scores were announced.

We went to school to pick up the score reports.

Papaya did very well, still in the top ten of the grade, able to pick whatever school he wanted.

The rest of us were okay too, pretty much a normal performance.

We sat on the lawn beside the basketball court, looking at the familiar teaching building, and suddenly fell silent.

Pig Head poked me with his elbow. “Now that we've graduated, we should say the things we couldn't say before.” Before we could react, this guy had already rushed onto the flag-raising platform and started shouting at the teaching building. Passersby were startled.

Although we knew Pig Head liked a girl in the neighboring class, we didn't expect him to confess in front of so many people today. And whether that girl ever found out later is another matter.

At Pig Head's urging, a few classmates also went up to the flag-raising platform to confess.

When they called me to go, I thought through all the girls I knew and felt like there wasn't one I liked, so I ran onto the platform and shouted, Alma mater I love you. To this day they still bring it up at reunions.

Only Papaya didn't speak.

He was thinking about Strawberry, I suppose. He hadn't seen Strawberry today either.

On the way home, Papaya received a message from Strawberry. Strawberry hadn't done well, and she was crying, so Papaya turned around to go find Strawberry. As for whether he found her, Papaya never said later.

Papaya told Strawberry the city he was going to.

But Strawberry didn't tell Papaya which school she had applied to.

Later, Papaya and Strawberry didn't go to the same city; they were even very far apart.

The day the admission results came out, Strawberry said to Papaya, Once you get to school, tell me the detailed address. Papaya said okay.

Still later, Papaya didn't tell Strawberry the address, and Strawberry never sought Papaya out again. Once inseparable, they were reduced to liking each other's posts on Moments, lonely as in the beginning.

“Do you really like Strawberry?”

“Of course”

“He said you've never even confessed”

...... (ten minutes of silence)

“But I really like her”