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Parallel Lines (1)

本文发表在 rolia.net 枫下论坛Xie, my senior high school classmate and soul mate, was indisputably the most beautiful girl in the whole school – at least, in the eyes of boys. Her beautifulness was classic and ravishing, so beautiful that, during all three senior high school years, no boy was confident enough to ask her out for a date. Yet, she hung out with me, both inside and outside school, and contrary to everyone’s impression, we were not lovers.

Xie was very good at playing table tennis and she was selected to play for our school. I liked to play table tennis too. At beginning, we played with a group of enthusiasts twice a week. Gradually, for various reasons, all other members had left the group, and only Xie and I still played regularly. We thus became close friends, so close that we were seen together on all occasions. Other students started keeping a distance from us, all thinking we were a couple. We did not bother to explain, because we knew the more we tried to explain, the more convinced they would become that we were in love. I remembered the first game we played with a dozen of players, in which we barely talked – she was the center of attention and I did not have a chance. Now, about six months later, only she and I played table tennis, primarily talking while absent-mindedly playing, to be exact. Sometimes, I was confused. Are we in love?

But, we were both obsessed with someone else. I was attracted to another girl in my class; Xie a university sophomore I had never met before.

The most embarrassing thing to me was that my mother started to treat Xie as her prospective daughter-in-law, and that the hospitality associated with that wish was so ostentatious that I was afraid, it would only push her away from me. Usually, half hour before her arrival, my mother would sit on the balcony like a sentinel, anxiously peeping out through safety railings to see if she was coming; one hour before her arrival, my mother would meticulously prepare the snacks: a plateful of salted sunflower seeds, a bowlful of peanuts, a small pile of candy and a pyramid of apples with top one’s peel neatly removed; one day before her arrival, my mother would start planning for the next day’s special meal. I knew Xie was my mother’s dream daughter-in-law, but there was no sign that we were moving towards that direction and my mother’s insatiable curiosity about her had worn me down.

“Is she a good student?” My mother asked tentatively, at the same time, feigning nonchalance.

“Yes,” my answer was always as short and noncommittal as possible to avoid further questioning.

My mother pressed on, “What does her father do for a living?”

“Some kind of engineer. Mom, why do you care about her? Let me make one thing clear – we are not in love. We only play table tennis and help each other out with studies.” I was hoping the conversation would end with this declaration.

“I am only asking. What is wrong with inquiring about your friends? Why are you so testy?”

“Just stop asking about her. OK?”

“Ok, ok.” My mother left – only for five minutes. Then she came back, pretending to fetch something she had forgotten, and throw me a question on her way out, “what did you say the other day about her mother? What does she do for a living?”

“Some kind of engineer.” I was really tired of this interrogation.

“Does she have any brothers or sisters?” My mother leaned on the door, showing no intention of leaving my room any time soon.

“Mom!”更多精彩文章及讨论,请光临枫下论坛 rolia.net
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  • 工作学习 / 外语学习 / Parallel Lines (1)
    本文发表在 rolia.net 枫下论坛Xie, my senior high school classmate and soul mate, was indisputably the most beautiful girl in the whole school – at least, in the eyes of boys. Her beautifulness was classic and ravishing, so beautiful that, during all three senior high school years, no boy was confident enough to ask her out for a date. Yet, she hung out with me, both inside and outside school, and contrary to everyone’s impression, we were not lovers.

    Xie was very good at playing table tennis and she was selected to play for our school. I liked to play table tennis too. At beginning, we played with a group of enthusiasts twice a week. Gradually, for various reasons, all other members had left the group, and only Xie and I still played regularly. We thus became close friends, so close that we were seen together on all occasions. Other students started keeping a distance from us, all thinking we were a couple. We did not bother to explain, because we knew the more we tried to explain, the more convinced they would become that we were in love. I remembered the first game we played with a dozen of players, in which we barely talked – she was the center of attention and I did not have a chance. Now, about six months later, only she and I played table tennis, primarily talking while absent-mindedly playing, to be exact. Sometimes, I was confused. Are we in love?

    But, we were both obsessed with someone else. I was attracted to another girl in my class; Xie a university sophomore I had never met before.

    The most embarrassing thing to me was that my mother started to treat Xie as her prospective daughter-in-law, and that the hospitality associated with that wish was so ostentatious that I was afraid, it would only push her away from me. Usually, half hour before her arrival, my mother would sit on the balcony like a sentinel, anxiously peeping out through safety railings to see if she was coming; one hour before her arrival, my mother would meticulously prepare the snacks: a plateful of salted sunflower seeds, a bowlful of peanuts, a small pile of candy and a pyramid of apples with top one’s peel neatly removed; one day before her arrival, my mother would start planning for the next day’s special meal. I knew Xie was my mother’s dream daughter-in-law, but there was no sign that we were moving towards that direction and my mother’s insatiable curiosity about her had worn me down.

    “Is she a good student?” My mother asked tentatively, at the same time, feigning nonchalance.

    “Yes,” my answer was always as short and noncommittal as possible to avoid further questioning.

    My mother pressed on, “What does her father do for a living?”

    “Some kind of engineer. Mom, why do you care about her? Let me make one thing clear – we are not in love. We only play table tennis and help each other out with studies.” I was hoping the conversation would end with this declaration.

    “I am only asking. What is wrong with inquiring about your friends? Why are you so testy?”

    “Just stop asking about her. OK?”

    “Ok, ok.” My mother left – only for five minutes. Then she came back, pretending to fetch something she had forgotten, and throw me a question on her way out, “what did you say the other day about her mother? What does she do for a living?”

    “Some kind of engineer.” I was really tired of this interrogation.

    “Does she have any brothers or sisters?” My mother leaned on the door, showing no intention of leaving my room any time soon.

    “Mom!”更多精彩文章及讨论,请光临枫下论坛 rolia.net
    • love, or not love, that is a question,:)...
      a typical mom in those years no matter when you were seeking a BF or a GF...BTW, at the first sight of the subject, I was almost expecting to read some advices on Parallel Parking, lol
      • Parallel parking? LOL…You know what I think? very obscene!
    • interesting. good writing too.
      • Thank you! Should I write on? I’d almost killed the story for the lack of interest from the readers.
        • Write on. A lot of people here don't read long English articles.
          • Ok, then, see you next Sunday.
        • Yes。 Please。 I Like The Way You Tell The Story。 Very Smooth
          • As you wish. I am on it.
    • Very nice story. I would love to hear more. The conversations between you and your mom sound just so familiar to me:-).
      • Then, you have to tell me your variation. Just for fun.
    • if two parallel roads were cut short by a river, or a bridge, or a wonderland, will they meet and cross ways eventually? +1
    • Very nice writing, I am patiently waiting Paralle Lines #2 to come up.