Forget it, Liam has probably forgotten about me, an old classmate with no achievements.
I was about to quit, but accidentally I clicked on the screen.
Then my message was sent out!
I quickly retracted it when the traffic light turned green.
Then I delivered the merch to the mail station by my scooter.
An hour later, I returned home.
I opened my phone and found Liam sent me a "?".
For a moment, I was distracted.
[Sorry, I clicked the wrong button.]
Seeing [typing] under his name, I started picking at my nails incessantly, my heart almost jumping out of my throat.
I added.
[Congratulations on winning an Oscar.]
Liam replied. [Thank you.]
The conversation came to an awkward end.
I turned off my phone, as if I could isolate my feelings this way.
Liam was prospering in his career, but my life was a mess.
How could he remember a classmate who did so poorly?
I felt asleep in a daze.
At high school break.
I was in the corridor outside the classroom, surrounded by a group of girls.
I held up Liam's freshly printed photos and shouted loudly to his admirers:
"The same eraser used by Liam Shirl, one dollar each!
"Freshly taken ID photos of Liam Shirl, two dollars each!"
"Give me!"
"I'll take it!"
...