We talked to each other more, too. Especially after Mr.Mertins moved me behind him. Mr. Mertins had a detention（扣留） policy（政策） about spelling, where if you missed more than seven out of twenty-five words, you had to spend lunch inside with him, writing your words over and over and over again.
The pressure of（关于...的压力） detention made Bryce panic（恐慌）. And even though it bothered my conscience（良心）, I'd lean in（侧身） and whisper answers to him, hoping that maybe I could spend lunch with him instead. His hair smelled like watermelon, and his earlobes had fuzz. Soft, blond fuzz. And I wondered about that. How does a boy with such black hair wind up with blond ear fuzz? What's it doing there, anyway? I checkedmy own earlobes in the mirror but couldn't find much of anything on them, and I didn't spot any on other people's either.
I thought about asking Mr. Mertins about earlobe fuzz when we were discussing evolution in science, but I didn't instead, I spent the year whispering spelling words, sniffing watermelon,and wondering if I was ever going to get my kiss.
简意：
坐在一起后，我们的交流更多了，特别当马丁老师向我走到他身后的时候。马丁老师对于拼写单词有他自己的一套扣留机制，就是失败率超过7/25时，就必须在午餐时间不停地书写那些单词。
这个政策给布莱斯带来的压力让他很恐慌，这让我觉得良心受到了谴责。我开始侧身靠近他，然后悄悄给他说答案，这样也许我就可以代替他在中午时留下来了。他的头发问起来有一股西瓜味儿，耳垂上面有细细的、软软的、金色的绒毛。我对那些绒毛充满了好奇心，一个男孩怎么会有一头乌黑的头发却又是金色的绒毛呢？ 它们长在上面到底有什么用？ 我在镜子里面看了我自己的耳垂，也观察了别人的耳垂，都没有。
我在考虑要不要在跟马丁老师讨论问题时问下这方面的问题，不过最终还是没问。整个一年我都悄悄帮他拼写单词，闻着我的西瓜味儿，然后畅想着什么时候能得到我的吻。
