TBTTSP - Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Zhang Xu Has No Story (8)

After the midterm exams, the atmosphere in class was as lively as ever, but no matter how you looked at it, my desk mate was on a completely different wavelength from everyone else.

She looked like she was facing a formidable enemy, her brow furrowed, tackling the final exams with the same intensity one would reserve for the college entrance exams.

This was the Middle School Entrance Exam, the first exam in my life that didn't come with summer homework.

For me, the prospect of no summer homework was blinding. I started letting myself go, reading novels in class. I'd hide the book under my textbook, on guard against the teacher on one side and my desk mate on the other.

My desk mate probably held a hundred different positions in school, including class monitor and Chinese class representative. She was so serious, she'd arrange every fold of her red neckerchief in class to maintain a proper, spirited appearance.

I'd furtively glance up at the teacher, then duck my head back down to the protagonist's story. It was as nerve-wracking as cheating on an exam. When my desk mate found out, she righteously turned me in, raising her hand in class. "Teacher, Zhang Xu is reading a novel during class."

Who could stand that!

After the teacher confiscated two of my books, I decided to have a talk with my desk mate.

As the saying goes, try courtesy before resorting to force. In the cafeteria, we each got a bowl of stew. I picked out all the lean meat from mine and gave it to her. With a solemn expression, I said, "Can you please stop telling the teacher on me? I only read sometimes, not every day. I can't stand it when the teacher confiscates my books."

My desk mate glanced up. "There were four class periods this morning. You spent five of them reading."

"How'd you get an extra period?"

"You even hid in the bathroom to read during breaks. You read instead of doing the morning exercises. Don't think I don't know."

Fine. My desk mate had eagle eyes and a sharp tongue.

I fell silent. That night, I nursed my grudge: Today, Li Zhaodi wouldn't let me read my novel, and she even told the teacher on me.

I'd started keeping a diary recently. Shang Yi must have been incredibly busy, so much so that even when she took over my body, she didn't have time to analyze her surroundings. So she found a simpler solution: she made me write a diary every day.

She was just like a parent assigning homework. And look, now she'd taken it a step further. If I wasn't under her direct supervision, she wanted me to report in.

I didn't dare refuse. If any inconsistencies slipped through and people discovered that Zhang Xu had some kind of personality disorder, I'd be the one to suffer. So I wracked my brain and used every ounce of my skill to write that diary. If I'd handed it to my Chinese teacher, she probably would have praised me.

Shang Yi would mark the entries she'd read with a "Reviewed" character, just like a teacher. A few days later, Xu Wanqing found out about the notebook and started reading it secretly. How did I know? A drop of ink had fallen on a page, and there were smudges from where someone had tried to wipe it away. Xu Wanqing was so funny. If she wanted to read it, why be so sneaky about it?

I didn't have much to write about, mostly just trivial things.

For example: Today, I ate dry instant noodles in class. My desk mate told the teacher.

Today, I read a novel in class. My desk mate told the teacher.

The boy behind me is disgusting. He rubbed the grime off his skin and tried to hand it to me. I got into a fight with him. My desk mate told the teacher.

I figured that ever since I got this desk mate, I'd become a regular in the teachers' office. I went there more often than I went home. My desk mate would tattle to the teacher over every little thing.

The problem was, I really couldn't make myself study, and I was letting my desk mate down. She thought that even if I wasn't a literary genius like Xu Wanqing, I should at least be a mysterious academic prodigy like Shang Yi. As it happened, I was neither. I just couldn't remember anything. I don't know what was wrong with my brain. My grades weren't bad before I started transferring schools all the time, but it wasn't my fault I was getting dumber.

My desk mate would pin me to my desk and force me to study. Shang Yi also drew up a study plan for me. But I'd just stare blankly. Even when the teacher highlighted the key points and I tried my hardest to memorize them, I couldn't retain anything. How could that be my fault?

When I told my desk mate this, she flew into a rage.

"How can you say something so unambitious?"

I'd been unambitious at this school for a long time. Why was she acting like she was just meeting me for the first time?

I stood before her, dazedly clutching my school uniform, completely spineless.

I was a fifteen-year-old girl, one-meter-seventy tall—a giant among primary schoolers. Yet here I was, bowing before my one-meter-fifty desk mate, not daring to breathe too loudly.

For one, I was afraid she'd let loose with some "fragrant" language I wouldn't understand. For another, I was afraid she'd turn on me, which would lead to Shang Yi and Xu Wanqing both turning on me, scolding me about making friends who would challenge me, not bad influences.

My desk mate was so angry she looked like a quail on a roasting rack, her chest heaving. It looked like she was about to explode on the spot. But her good-student disposition kicked in. She took two deep breaths and turned away. "Fine. It's time for exercises. Strange, why am I so angry today?"

---

Midway through the semester, they changed the broadcast calisthenics routine. Shang Yi had just barely managed to learn Eaglets Take Flight, and now she had to learn Dancing Youth. Normally, she was on duty in the afternoons, so she wouldn't have had to do them. But one time, the school-wide calisthenics competition was held in the afternoon. Xu Wanqing had a natural talent for the exercises, and since I was tall and looked good, the teacher put me in the front row to lead the class. It was all for show.

Later, the school broadcasting station, which my desk mate was part of, played a promotional video. In the edited footage, I saw myself blankly kicking my legs and raising my arms, looking left and right for cues. I could just imagine the ferocious look on Shang Yi's face as she swallowed her bitter tears and forced herself to keep hopping around.

I'm not bringing this up just to make fun of Shang Yi, though that's a nice bonus. My main point is that our calisthenics routine was full of complex movements, with a lot of running and jumping. It would have been much more pleasing to the eye to have a petite girl like my desk mate leading in the front.

After that competition, the teacher banished me to the back row, far from my desk mate, who was still leading up front.

The outhouse on the edge of the sports field was right near my spot, and I had a novel hidden in a crack between the bricks inside. When she wasn't looking, I'd slip into the bathroom and skip calisthenics. I'd lean against the wall and start reading. A few of the more precocious girls had already learned to smoke, and the swirling smoke in the bathroom was so thick it made me choke. I had to step back outside.

A little while later, the music for Dancing Youth ended. I looked up, and my desk mate was standing right in front of me, as if she'd teleported. "Reading again?"

Caught red-handed. I held out the book. My desk mate snatched it from my hand and threw it away. I didn't dare make a peep. It was just one of those cheap, trashy novels that cost five yuan for a thick volume. If she threw it out, she threw it out.

I stood outside the bathroom, facing the wall in penance, while my desk mate went inside.

When she came out, her face was ashen.

Had my lack of ambition really disheartened her that much? I studied her pale face and said cautiously, "I'm really out of books. I'll definitely study hard from now on."

Her lip trembled. She shook her head, looking like she was on the verge of tears, but she held them back.

"Did those girls bully you?"

I was tall and I could fight. I could even get some boys to help me storm the girls' bathroom.

She shook her head again. After a moment of silence, she gripped my hand tightly. "I think… I don't have long to live."

"Huh?"

Tears started to fall, like beads from a broken string. "I think I have some kind of disease," she said, choking back sobs. "Today… when I pulled down my pants… there was this… reddish-brown… stuff… I don't know what it is. I think I have some kind of gynecological problem…"

"…"

Logically, with a battle-hardened veteran like me for a desk mate, how could she not know what a period was? She'd even given me brown sugar water before!

"I think… you just got your period…"

Hooray, congratulations. My desk mate had finally, on the eve of graduation, officially entered puberty. No wonder she'd been so quick to anger today. She really was one of a kind—her first period arrived, and the mood swings were already showing.

"No, it's not that." My desk mate was a good student and didn't have much faith in my words. "I know what a period is. It's supposed to be red. It's blood. This isn't. It's… it's not blood, and it's not red enough…"

She seemed to think a first period should be a veritable river of blood, the kind you'd need a diaper to contain.

I couldn't help it. A snort of laughter escaped me. Li Zhaodi shot me an annoyed look but didn't get angry. Instead, she earnestly began taking stock of her assets. "I have five yuan in my schoolbag… I've saved… saved up three hundred yuan at home, but my mom will take it… and my little brother will take the five yuan… I don't have an inheritance. You can have all my books…"

See, my desk mate might be a good student, but she was clearly lacking in certain areas of her education. I, on the other hand, had been corrupted by watching all sorts of R-rated movies since I was little, which had opened my eyes to a whole new world. By all standards, I was definitely a bad girl. I'd known for a long time what happens to boys and girls during puberty. So when I got my first period, I calmly went to the school store, bought a pack of pads, and put one on. It was only that evening, when my mom asked why there was an extra pack of pads in the house, that I fessed up.

I felt my pockets, but I didn't have a pad on me. So I had to drag my desk mate, who was still recounting the story of her tragic life, over the school wall to the supermarket outside.

The cashier offered me a black plastic bag, but I refused it.

The pads weren't that conspicuous on their own, but putting them in a black bag was like screaming "I BOUGHT SANITARY PADS." There was nothing to be ashamed of, but my desk mate seemed to realize the implication and started blushing. So I bought a bunch of colorful snacks to go with them. Amidst that vibrant pile, how could anyone pick out the sanitary pads?

I opened one up and gave her a detailed explanation of how to use it. Blushing, my desk mate disappeared into the outhouse. By then, class had already started. For the first time in history, my desk mate wasn't in her seat for the bell.

So… who was going to call out "Stand"?

It just goes to show: some people can skip class and still be present in the classroom.

That day, I felt the friendship between my desk mate and me had deepened. It was a bond forged in blood, after all.

---

But then, on the third day, when I was back in control of my body and happily sat down, my desk mate grabbed a metal ruler, slammed it down between our desks, and drew a hard line—the 38th parallel.

What was going on?

During class, I poked her elbow, wanting to ask why she'd suddenly turned on me. She immediately shot her hand into the air. "Teacher, Zhang Xu is trying to talk to me during class!"

What was her problem!

"Zhang Xu, you've been getting carried away lately. The Middle School Entrance Exam is just around the corner. I hope you can manage to pull off another miracle performance!"

The teacher threw a piece of chalk at me, and it hit me right on the head.

Full of questions, I opened that damn notebook I hadn't touched in ages and flipped to the last page.

Shang Yi had written: Li Zhaodi's mother forbade her from hanging out with you.

Huh?

What, was I some kind of villain? What had I done wrong? All I did was step in and handle a responsibility her own mother had neglected. Shouldn't she be thanking me for being so conscientious? I was the model desk mate of China.

But Shang Yi didn't explain further, and my desk mate still wouldn't speak to me. I felt like I'd woken up from a nap to find I'd been banished for a crime I didn't even know I'd committed. I was on pins and needles in my own seat.

I had a feeling Shang Yi must have done something. Otherwise, why would things have changed so suddenly?

But I didn't dare to ask.

I held it in for a long time. It seemed my desk mate was serious about cutting ties with me for good. She didn't say a word to me for a whole week.

I asked Shang Yi, "What did you do?"

Shang Yi replied, "I chewed her mom out."

My heart skipped a beat.

Looks like I was officially on Li Zhaodi's mom's blacklist.

"Why?"

"I couldn't help it."

Shang Yi's answer was as good as no answer at all. I'd been getting the cold shoulder for so long, and I still had no idea why.

Get instant access to all chapters now.

Previous Table of Contents Next