The setting sun stretched our shadow and projected it onto the flat concrete road. I looked down and she looked at the flowers and plants on the side of the road with a straight face. We all seem to be trying our best to show our carelessness, seemingly absent-minded, but in fact we are out of place. I sighed helplessly in my mind, reached into my trouser pocket and was silent.

In fact, it's really nothing, just a disagreement about how to pay back the money. We all hold our own opinions and refuse to give in. In fact, I am too lazy to entangle with others on money, but I have always refused to "surrender" because I can't let go of my face. After all, they are all "little princesses" at home, and it is inevitable that they will be spoiled and naturally arrogant.

"Oh, what's the matter? It's embarrassing not to talk. "She is the first to break the deadlock. I, however, didn't respond and still kept my head down. I wonder why she "surrendered" first, but I didn't feel any pleasure. " Well, I was thinking. "I don't know what happened. I want to make up with her, but the words are on my lips.

A road has come to an end. When I turned the corner, she turned to look at me and seemed to want to say something, but because of my absent-minded appearance, she didn't say anything after all. Actually, I wish she could say something.

I walked a little fast when I went upstairs. I hope she can catch up with me and say, "Let's make up." But she didn't. I looked back at her, and she bowed her head and sipped her mouth, as if thinking about something. I suddenly felt a little indebted to her, and a sense of guilt swept over me.

I wandered around the back door of the classroom, actually waiting for her. When she saw me, she paused and then smiled gratefully. I walked slowly this time. I hope she can walk side by side with me. But she didn't. She walked stiffly behind me. I am so helpless.

A few minutes later, a photographer came and said that he was taking pictures of our "civilization class", and the students all leaned closer to the middle. She moved her seat to my right, because there were too many people, and the photographer was afraid of not getting into the mirror, so she leaned over to me. I didn't speak, just took her arm and squeezed her hand. With a click, the shutter was pressed. I don't think this kind of silent communication can be expressed by two smiling faces in a photo. This feeling is worth cherishing all my life, and I will take it out occasionally to savor it. ...