I was born into a traditional Chinese family, one that restricted my thoughts and limited my understanding of the world.I never knew that a boy could fall in love with another boy—or that a girl could love another girl. It simply never existed in the world I was taught to see.
My parents expected me to focus entirely on my studies, to care about nothing else. I was raised to be the perfect student, disciplined and obedient.
Thanks to my high school entrance exam scores, I managed to get into a decent high school. My goal was simple: study hard, get into a top university, and make my parents proud.
But something happened during high school—something I could have never predicted in my sixteen years of life.
It was a sweltering summer day when I first arrived at the school. My parents carried my luggage, while I slung my backpack over my shoulder, feeling like a turtle leaving its quiet lake, heading for the vast sea—driven by curiosity and a sense of adventure.
Following the directions on the orientation guide, I quickly found my dorm room. My mom helped me make the bed. That's when he walked in—the boy who would change everything about my high school life.
He wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses and the standard loose-fitting school sports uniform—not the tailored suits you might see in Western schools. Despite the plain clothes, he somehow wore them with an effortless confidence. His skin was tan, a sign of someone who spends time outdoors.
He gave me a quick "hi," then sat on his bed and started watching me as I sorted my things.
To be honest, I didn't like being stared at by a complete stranger, even if he was my new roommate and classmate. I pretended not to notice and focused on organizing my stuff.
After I finished, it was time for my parents to leave. My mom, like always, gave me a series of reminders about daily life—none of which I ever remembered. I nodded and replied half-heartedly just to speed up their departure. My dad finished the last drag of his cigarette, and together they left.
I let out a long sigh as I watched them disappear beyond the school gates.
Back in the dorm, that boy was still sitting on his bed. Being naturally introverted, I had no intention of striking up a conversation. I just started unpacking my books and preparing for check-in.
Then suddenly, he stood up and walked straight toward me.
I was startled by how close he got. I could smell the mint of his toothpaste and see the fine texture of his hair. I was so distracted by the whiteness of his teeth that I completely missed what he said at first.
After a brief, awkward moment, he seemed to realize he was too close and stepped back.
"My bad," he said. "Your parents accidentally put your stuff into my locker."
Embarrassed, I apologized and quickly cleared it out. But when I was done, I noticed he had already left—and his locker remained empty.
I didn't understand why he rushed me to clean it out if he wasn't even going to use it right away.
Not a great first impression.But whatever.
I came here to study hard and get into a good university—not to get entangled with some stranger.
Eventually, I headed to the classroom for the final check-in. I was the last one to arrive, and everyone else was already seated, waiting for the head teacher to begin. My delay held up the process for several minutes.
It was noisy. I noticed that my roommate had already made quite a few friends, laughing and chatting like he'd been here forever. It annoyed me.
I blamed him for delaying my check-in.Right then and there, I swore I'd never speak to him again.
The class seating was arranged by height, and I was relieved to find out that he was taller than me—which meant we wouldn't be sitting together.
My deskmate seemed like a typical nerd. His glasses were thick, and his desk was stacked with books. He smiled at me politely, and I felt a bit of hope. Maybe we'd get along well.If he was better at studying than me, I thought, maybe he could be my tutor—and I'd treat him well.
Then our head teacher asked, "Does anyone have any objections to the seating arrangement?"
A chill ran down my spine.Something felt... off.
And then it happened.
My roommate raised his hand, stood up, and said,"Yes. I have an objection."
He turned to face me—and stared at me like I was his prey.