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每一天，在不同的身体醒来；每一天，过着不同的生活；每一天，爱着同一个女孩。
他/她无名无姓，也无须姓名，只对心爱的女孩有一个名字—A。次日醒来，会在哪里，会是谁，是男是女，或胖或瘦，过怎样的生活，A无法预知，更无从控制。A给自己定了规矩：不投入、不执着、不干涉。孤独而平静的生活看来要永远地过下去，没有尽头。直到第5994天，漂泊的A邂逅了蕾安侬，无可救药地爱上了那个忧伤而善良的女孩。在那个远郊沙滩上晚风拂面的黄昏，他们站在时间之外，她被暖橘色的夕阳照耀着。那一刻，A找到了归属。为了摆脱寄生的宿命，年少而孤独的灵魂百转千回。
《纽约时报》畅销作家、欧美小文青最爱的作家之一—大卫·李维森向来擅长运用独特的形式，书写青春、记忆与爱情。《每一天》构思巧妙、独具一格，那些满载着情感的文字带着难言的力量，让你忽略“没有人会每天早上在不同的身体里醒来”这个简单的事实，完完全全地沉浸其中，无法自拔。让我们来到A的第5994天，准备好了吗？一、二、三，睁眼！
（编者注：译文参考自四川文艺出版社2013年版。）
day 5994 第5994天
I wake up.
Immediately I have to figure out who I am. It’s not just the body—opening my eyes and discovering whether the skin on my arm is light or dark， whether my hair is long or short， whether I’m fat or thin， boy or girl， scarred[伤痕累累的] or smooth. The body is the easiest thing to adjust to[使适应]， if you’re used to waking up in a new one each morning. It’s the life， the context[背景] of the body， that can be hard to grasp[抓].
Every day I am someone else. I am myself—I know I am myself—but I am also someone else.
It has always been like this.
The information is there. I wake up， open my eyes， understand that it is a new morning， a new place. The biography[传记] kicks in[开始生效]， a welcome gift from the not-me part of the mind. Today I am Justin. Somehow I know this—my name is Justin—and at the same time I know that I’m not really Justin， I’m only borrowing his life for a day. I look around and know that this is his room. This is his home. The alarm will go off in seven minutes.
I’m never the same person twice， but I’ve certainly been this type before. Clothes everywhere. Far more video games than books. Sleeps in his boxers[拳击短裤]. From the taste of his mouth， a smoker. But not so addicted[上瘾的] that he needs one as soon as he wakes up.
“Good morning， Justin，” I say. Checking out his voice. Low. The voice in my head is always different.
Justin doesn’t take care of himself. His scalp[头皮] itches[发痒]. His eyes don’t want to open. He hasn’t gotten much sleep.
Already I know I’m not going to like today.
It’s hard being in the body of someone you don’t like， because you still have to respect it. I’ve harmed people’s lives in the past， and I’ve found that every time I slip up[疏忽]， it haunts[使苦恼] me. So I try to be careful.
From what I can tell， every person I inhabit[占据] is the same age as me. I don’t hop[跳跃] from being 16 to being 60. Right now， it’s only 16. I don’t know how this works. Or why. I stopped trying to figure it out a long time ago. I’m never going to figure it out， any more than a normal person will figure out his or her own existence[存在]. After a while， you have to be at peace with the fact that you simply are. There is no way to know why. You can have theories[理论]， but there will never be proof[证据]. The alarm goes off. I reach for a shirt and some jeans， but something lets me see that it’s the same shirt he wore yesterday. I pick a different shirt. I take the clothes with me to the bathroom， dress after showering. His parents are in the kitchen now. They have no idea that anything is different.
Sixteen years is a lot of time to practice. I don’t usually make mistakes. Not anymore.
I read his parents easily： Justin doesn’t talk to them much in the morning， so I don’t have to talk to them. I have grown accustomed to[习惯于] sensing expectation[期望] in others， or the lack of it. I shovel[铲] down some cereal[麦片]， leave the bowl in the sink[洗涤槽] without washing it， grab[攫取] Justin’s keys and go.
Yesterday I was a girl in a town I’d guess to be two hours away. The day before， I was a boy in a town three hours farther than that. I am already forgetting their details. I have to， or else I will never remember who I really am.
I access[使用] his memory to show me the way to school， which parking space to take， which locker[储物柜] to go to. The combination[密码]. The names of the people he knows in the halls. As I take Justin’s books out of his locker， I can feel someone hovering[徘徊] on the periphery[外围]. I turn， and the girl standing there is transparent[透明的] in her emotions—tentative[踌躇的] and expectant[期待的]， nervous and adoring[爱慕的]. I don’t have to access Justin to know that this is his girlfriend. No one else would have this reaction to him， so unsteady[不稳定的] in his presence[面前]. She’s pretty， but she doesn’t see it. She’s hiding behind her hair， happy to see me and unhappy to see me at the same time.
Her name is Rhiannon. And for a moment—just the slightest beat—I think that， yes， this is the right name for her. I don’t know why. I don’t know her. But it feels right.
This is not Justin’s thought. It’s mine. I try to ignore it. I’m not the person she wants to talk to.
“Hey，” I say， keeping it casual[随意的].
“Hey，” she murmurs[低语] back.
She’s looking at the floor， at her inked[墨水渲染的]-in Converse. She’s drawn cities there， skylines[地平线] around the soles[鞋底]. Something’s happened between her and Justin， and I don’t know what it is. It’s probably not something that Justin even recognized at the time.
“Are you okay？” I ask.
I see the surprise on her face， even as she tries to cover it. This is not something that Justin normally asks.
And the strange thing is： I want to know the answer. The fact that he wouldn’t care makes me want it more. “Sure，” she says， not sounding sure at all.
I find it hard to look at her. I know from experience that beneath every peripheral[外表的] girl is a central truth. She’s hiding hers away， but at the same time she wants me to see it. That is， she wants Justin to see it. And it’s there， just out of my reach. A sound waiting to be a word.
She is so lost in her sadness that she has no idea how visible[明显的] it is. I think I understand her—for a moment， I presume[推测] to understand her—but then， from within this sadness， she surprises me with a brief[简短的] flash of determination[决心]. Bravery， even.
“Do you still want to get lunch today？” she asks.
The easy thing would be to say no. I often do this： sense the other person’s life drawing me in， and run in the other direction.
But there’s something about her—the cities on her shoes， the flash of bravery， the unnecessary sadness—that makes me want to know what the word will be when it stops being a sound. I have spent years meeting people without ever knowing them， and on this morning， in this place， with this girl， I feel the faintest[微弱的] pull of wanting to know. And in a moment of either weakness or bravery on my own part， I decide to follow it. I decide to find out more.
“Absolutely，” I say. “Lunch would be great.”
She’s relieved[放心的]. Or， at least， as relieved as she’ll allow herself to be， which is a very guarded form of relief. By accessing， I know she and Justin have been together for over a year. That’s as specific[明确的] as it gets. Justin doesn’t remember the exact date.
She reaches out and takes my hand. I am surprised by how good this feels.
The first bell rings.
“I’ll see you later，” I say.
Such a basic promise. But to Rhiannon， it means the world.
我醒了。
我得立刻弄清楚一个问题—我是谁。睁开眼睛，看看手臂上的皮肤是白是黑、头发是长是短、身材是胖是瘦、是男是女以及身上是否有伤—这只是这个身体的外部特征。如果你习惯了每天早上醒来时都被装在不同的躯体里，那么身体是最容易适应的部分。而这具躯壳的背景，也就是它的人生，才是最难掌握的。
每一天我都是另外一个人。我是我自己—我也知道我是我自己—但是我也是另外一个人。
长久以来，一直如此。
事情是这样的。我醒来睁开眼睛的同时，我就知道了这是一个崭新的早晨，一个全新的地方。作为欢迎我的见面礼，一份原属于这个身体的个人信息会涌入我的脑海。今天，我是贾斯汀。没有原因，我就是知道我的名字是贾斯汀，但同时我也知道，我不是真正的贾斯汀，我只是借用他的身体来过一天的日子罢了。环顾四周，我知道这是他的房间，这是他的家。七分钟之后闹钟会响起。
我从来没有重复占据过同一个人的身体，但是我确定我之前当过这一类型的人：衣服扔得到处都是，电子游戏远远多于书籍，穿着拳击短裤睡觉。根据他口中的味道，我判断他吸烟，但烟瘾倒不至于大到一起床就要马上抽一支。
“早上好，贾斯汀。”我说。确认了他的声音，很低沉。声音总是和我脑海中想象的不同。
看来贾斯汀不会照顾自己。他的头皮发痒，不愿意睁开眼睛，睡眠不足。
我已经知道我不会喜欢今天了。
住在一个你不喜欢的人的身体里很不好受，因为你还是得尊重它。过去我曾经破坏过别人的生活，之后发现每一次我出错，它都会萦绕在我的心头。因此我尽量小心谨慎。 我可以告诉你的是，每一个让我寄居的人都与我同岁。我不用从十六岁跨越到六十岁。现在，我只有十六岁。我并不知道这是如何运作的，也不知道为什么会这样。很久以前，我就不再试图弄清楚这个问题了。我永远也破解不了其中的奥秘，正如一个正常人无法解释他或者她自身的存在一样。不久后，你必须平静地接受你就是你这个事实，无法知道其原因何在。你可能有一套理论，但你永远无法证实。
闹钟响了。我伸手拿了一件衬衫和几条牛仔裤，但是莫名的声音告诉我他昨天穿的就是我手里的这件衬衫，于是我选择了另外一件。我拿着衣服走进浴室，洗澡后换上。他的父母正在厨房里，完全没有觉察到任何不同。
十六年是很长的练习时间。我通常不会出错，以后也不会再犯错了。
我能轻易地读懂他的父母：贾斯汀早上不怎么和他们说话，所以我也不用和他们说什么。我已经能很快觉察到别人对我的期望或者不满。我倒了一些麦片，吃完把碗放在洗涤槽里，没有刷，抓起贾斯汀的钥匙就出门了。
昨天我是一个女孩，住在离这里两个小时车程的镇子里；前天我是一个男孩，住在离这里三个小时车程的镇子里。我已然忘了作为他们时的细节了。我必须忘记，不然我就会永远记不起真正的我是谁了。
我读取了他的记忆，知道了他去学校的路，还有应该把车停在哪个停车场以及哪个是他的储物柜。储物柜的密码，还有大厅里他认识的人的名字。当我从贾斯汀的储物柜里拿书的时候，莫名地感觉到有人徘徊在我周围。我一回头，一个女孩站在那里，脸上明显挂着既犹豫又期待、既紧张又爱慕的神情。我都不用读取贾斯汀的记忆就知道，这是他的女朋友。除此之外，没人会对贾斯汀有这样的反应，会如此不安地站在他面前。她很漂亮，但她并不自知。她的头发挡住了她的脸，既高兴看到我又不是那么高兴看到我。
她叫蕾安侬。在那一刻，就在那短暂的一瞬间，我觉得她就该叫这个名字。我也不知道为什么，我也不认识她，但是那个感觉很对。
这不是贾斯汀的想法，这是我的想法。我试图忽略它。她想要对话的人也不是我。
“你好。”我若无其事地说。
“你好。”她低声说道。
她看着地板，盯着她的手绘匡威帆布鞋。她在鞋上画着城市，鞋底周围用地平线作背景。她和贾斯汀之间一定发生了什么事，但是我不知道具体是什么。估计是连贾斯汀自己也不清楚的事。
“你还好吧？”我问。
即便她努力掩饰，我还是从她脸上看出了惊讶的神情。贾斯汀通常应该不会这么问。
奇怪的是：我想知道她的回答。实际上贾斯汀的满不在乎让我更加想要知道答案。
“很好。”她说，可是听起来一点儿都不好。
我发现我很难看清她。经验告诉我，每一个看似不引人注目的女孩实际上都有一个真实鲜活的内心世界。她掩饰自己的同时也想让我去发现，也就是说，她想让贾斯汀看到她所掩饰的部分。但是这超出了我的能力范围，也许此刻不用过多言语，只需耐心等待。
她完全沉浸在悲伤之中，以至于她不知道在别人看来这有多么明显。我觉得我懂她，有一刹那，我以为我是是了解她的，但是我惊奇地发现在她的悲伤中还存在着那么一丝坚定，甚至是勇敢。
“你今天还想一起去吃午饭吗？”她问。
最简单的做法就是说“不”。我常常这么做：一旦感觉到被牵扯进他人的生活时，我便朝着相反的方向走。
但蕾安侬—她鞋上画着的城市，她一刹那的勇敢，还有她不必要的悲伤—都让我迫不及待地想要知道她会说什么。很多年来我都在不了解的情况下和别人见面，然而就在这个早上，这个地点，面对这个女孩，我感受到一丝微弱的力量，让我想要对她有进一步的了解。因为我自身在那一刻的软弱或是勇敢，我决定跟随这个力量。我想要知道更多关于她的事情。
“当然。”我说，“一起吃午饭太好了。”
她松了一口气，或者至少在她允许的范围里算是放松了，一种带有些许谨慎的放松。通过读取贾斯汀的记忆我知道，他们俩已经交往一年多了。这已经很准确了，因为贾斯汀也不记得他们开始在一起的确切日子。
她伸手拉着我的手。令我意外的是这感觉太好了。
第一节课的铃声响了。“待会儿见。”我说。
只不过是简单的一句约定，但是对于蕾安侬来说，这句话意味着整个世界。
他/她无名无姓，也无须姓名，只对心爱的女孩有一个名字—A。次日醒来，会在哪里，会是谁，是男是女，或胖或瘦，过怎样的生活，A无法预知，更无从控制。A给自己定了规矩：不投入、不执着、不干涉。孤独而平静的生活看来要永远地过下去，没有尽头。直到第5994天，漂泊的A邂逅了蕾安侬，无可救药地爱上了那个忧伤而善良的女孩。在那个远郊沙滩上晚风拂面的黄昏，他们站在时间之外，她被暖橘色的夕阳照耀着。那一刻，A找到了归属。为了摆脱寄生的宿命，年少而孤独的灵魂百转千回。
《纽约时报》畅销作家、欧美小文青最爱的作家之一—大卫·李维森向来擅长运用独特的形式，书写青春、记忆与爱情。《每一天》构思巧妙、独具一格，那些满载着情感的文字带着难言的力量，让你忽略“没有人会每天早上在不同的身体里醒来”这个简单的事实，完完全全地沉浸其中，无法自拔。让我们来到A的第5994天，准备好了吗？一、二、三，睁眼！
（编者注：译文参考自四川文艺出版社2013年版。）
day 5994 第5994天
I wake up.
Immediately I have to figure out who I am. It’s not just the body—opening my eyes and discovering whether the skin on my arm is light or dark， whether my hair is long or short， whether I’m fat or thin， boy or girl， scarred[伤痕累累的] or smooth. The body is the easiest thing to adjust to[使适应]， if you’re used to waking up in a new one each morning. It’s the life， the context[背景] of the body， that can be hard to grasp[抓].
Every day I am someone else. I am myself—I know I am myself—but I am also someone else.
It has always been like this.
The information is there. I wake up， open my eyes， understand that it is a new morning， a new place. The biography[传记] kicks in[开始生效]， a welcome gift from the not-me part of the mind. Today I am Justin. Somehow I know this—my name is Justin—and at the same time I know that I’m not really Justin， I’m only borrowing his life for a day. I look around and know that this is his room. This is his home. The alarm will go off in seven minutes.
I’m never the same person twice， but I’ve certainly been this type before. Clothes everywhere. Far more video games than books. Sleeps in his boxers[拳击短裤]. From the taste of his mouth， a smoker. But not so addicted[上瘾的] that he needs one as soon as he wakes up.
“Good morning， Justin，” I say. Checking out his voice. Low. The voice in my head is always different.
Justin doesn’t take care of himself. His scalp[头皮] itches[发痒]. His eyes don’t want to open. He hasn’t gotten much sleep.
Already I know I’m not going to like today.
It’s hard being in the body of someone you don’t like， because you still have to respect it. I’ve harmed people’s lives in the past， and I’ve found that every time I slip up[疏忽]， it haunts[使苦恼] me. So I try to be careful.
From what I can tell， every person I inhabit[占据] is the same age as me. I don’t hop[跳跃] from being 16 to being 60. Right now， it’s only 16. I don’t know how this works. Or why. I stopped trying to figure it out a long time ago. I’m never going to figure it out， any more than a normal person will figure out his or her own existence[存在]. After a while， you have to be at peace with the fact that you simply are. There is no way to know why. You can have theories[理论]， but there will never be proof[证据]. The alarm goes off. I reach for a shirt and some jeans， but something lets me see that it’s the same shirt he wore yesterday. I pick a different shirt. I take the clothes with me to the bathroom， dress after showering. His parents are in the kitchen now. They have no idea that anything is different.
Sixteen years is a lot of time to practice. I don’t usually make mistakes. Not anymore.
I read his parents easily： Justin doesn’t talk to them much in the morning， so I don’t have to talk to them. I have grown accustomed to[习惯于] sensing expectation[期望] in others， or the lack of it. I shovel[铲] down some cereal[麦片]， leave the bowl in the sink[洗涤槽] without washing it， grab[攫取] Justin’s keys and go.
Yesterday I was a girl in a town I’d guess to be two hours away. The day before， I was a boy in a town three hours farther than that. I am already forgetting their details. I have to， or else I will never remember who I really am.
I access[使用] his memory to show me the way to school， which parking space to take， which locker[储物柜] to go to. The combination[密码]. The names of the people he knows in the halls. As I take Justin’s books out of his locker， I can feel someone hovering[徘徊] on the periphery[外围]. I turn， and the girl standing there is transparent[透明的] in her emotions—tentative[踌躇的] and expectant[期待的]， nervous and adoring[爱慕的]. I don’t have to access Justin to know that this is his girlfriend. No one else would have this reaction to him， so unsteady[不稳定的] in his presence[面前]. She’s pretty， but she doesn’t see it. She’s hiding behind her hair， happy to see me and unhappy to see me at the same time.
Her name is Rhiannon. And for a moment—just the slightest beat—I think that， yes， this is the right name for her. I don’t know why. I don’t know her. But it feels right.
This is not Justin’s thought. It’s mine. I try to ignore it. I’m not the person she wants to talk to.
“Hey，” I say， keeping it casual[随意的].
“Hey，” she murmurs[低语] back.
She’s looking at the floor， at her inked[墨水渲染的]-in Converse. She’s drawn cities there， skylines[地平线] around the soles[鞋底]. Something’s happened between her and Justin， and I don’t know what it is. It’s probably not something that Justin even recognized at the time.
“Are you okay？” I ask.
I see the surprise on her face， even as she tries to cover it. This is not something that Justin normally asks.
And the strange thing is： I want to know the answer. The fact that he wouldn’t care makes me want it more. “Sure，” she says， not sounding sure at all.
I find it hard to look at her. I know from experience that beneath every peripheral[外表的] girl is a central truth. She’s hiding hers away， but at the same time she wants me to see it. That is， she wants Justin to see it. And it’s there， just out of my reach. A sound waiting to be a word.
She is so lost in her sadness that she has no idea how visible[明显的] it is. I think I understand her—for a moment， I presume[推测] to understand her—but then， from within this sadness， she surprises me with a brief[简短的] flash of determination[决心]. Bravery， even.
“Do you still want to get lunch today？” she asks.
The easy thing would be to say no. I often do this： sense the other person’s life drawing me in， and run in the other direction.
But there’s something about her—the cities on her shoes， the flash of bravery， the unnecessary sadness—that makes me want to know what the word will be when it stops being a sound. I have spent years meeting people without ever knowing them， and on this morning， in this place， with this girl， I feel the faintest[微弱的] pull of wanting to know. And in a moment of either weakness or bravery on my own part， I decide to follow it. I decide to find out more.
“Absolutely，” I say. “Lunch would be great.”
She’s relieved[放心的]. Or， at least， as relieved as she’ll allow herself to be， which is a very guarded form of relief. By accessing， I know she and Justin have been together for over a year. That’s as specific[明确的] as it gets. Justin doesn’t remember the exact date.
She reaches out and takes my hand. I am surprised by how good this feels.
The first bell rings.
“I’ll see you later，” I say.
Such a basic promise. But to Rhiannon， it means the world.
我醒了。
我得立刻弄清楚一个问题—我是谁。睁开眼睛，看看手臂上的皮肤是白是黑、头发是长是短、身材是胖是瘦、是男是女以及身上是否有伤—这只是这个身体的外部特征。如果你习惯了每天早上醒来时都被装在不同的躯体里，那么身体是最容易适应的部分。而这具躯壳的背景，也就是它的人生，才是最难掌握的。
每一天我都是另外一个人。我是我自己—我也知道我是我自己—但是我也是另外一个人。
长久以来，一直如此。
事情是这样的。我醒来睁开眼睛的同时，我就知道了这是一个崭新的早晨，一个全新的地方。作为欢迎我的见面礼，一份原属于这个身体的个人信息会涌入我的脑海。今天，我是贾斯汀。没有原因，我就是知道我的名字是贾斯汀，但同时我也知道，我不是真正的贾斯汀，我只是借用他的身体来过一天的日子罢了。环顾四周，我知道这是他的房间，这是他的家。七分钟之后闹钟会响起。
我从来没有重复占据过同一个人的身体，但是我确定我之前当过这一类型的人：衣服扔得到处都是，电子游戏远远多于书籍，穿着拳击短裤睡觉。根据他口中的味道，我判断他吸烟，但烟瘾倒不至于大到一起床就要马上抽一支。
“早上好，贾斯汀。”我说。确认了他的声音，很低沉。声音总是和我脑海中想象的不同。
看来贾斯汀不会照顾自己。他的头皮发痒，不愿意睁开眼睛，睡眠不足。
我已经知道我不会喜欢今天了。
住在一个你不喜欢的人的身体里很不好受，因为你还是得尊重它。过去我曾经破坏过别人的生活，之后发现每一次我出错，它都会萦绕在我的心头。因此我尽量小心谨慎。 我可以告诉你的是，每一个让我寄居的人都与我同岁。我不用从十六岁跨越到六十岁。现在，我只有十六岁。我并不知道这是如何运作的，也不知道为什么会这样。很久以前，我就不再试图弄清楚这个问题了。我永远也破解不了其中的奥秘，正如一个正常人无法解释他或者她自身的存在一样。不久后，你必须平静地接受你就是你这个事实，无法知道其原因何在。你可能有一套理论，但你永远无法证实。
闹钟响了。我伸手拿了一件衬衫和几条牛仔裤，但是莫名的声音告诉我他昨天穿的就是我手里的这件衬衫，于是我选择了另外一件。我拿着衣服走进浴室，洗澡后换上。他的父母正在厨房里，完全没有觉察到任何不同。
十六年是很长的练习时间。我通常不会出错，以后也不会再犯错了。
我能轻易地读懂他的父母：贾斯汀早上不怎么和他们说话，所以我也不用和他们说什么。我已经能很快觉察到别人对我的期望或者不满。我倒了一些麦片，吃完把碗放在洗涤槽里，没有刷，抓起贾斯汀的钥匙就出门了。
昨天我是一个女孩，住在离这里两个小时车程的镇子里；前天我是一个男孩，住在离这里三个小时车程的镇子里。我已然忘了作为他们时的细节了。我必须忘记，不然我就会永远记不起真正的我是谁了。
我读取了他的记忆，知道了他去学校的路，还有应该把车停在哪个停车场以及哪个是他的储物柜。储物柜的密码，还有大厅里他认识的人的名字。当我从贾斯汀的储物柜里拿书的时候，莫名地感觉到有人徘徊在我周围。我一回头，一个女孩站在那里，脸上明显挂着既犹豫又期待、既紧张又爱慕的神情。我都不用读取贾斯汀的记忆就知道，这是他的女朋友。除此之外，没人会对贾斯汀有这样的反应，会如此不安地站在他面前。她很漂亮，但她并不自知。她的头发挡住了她的脸，既高兴看到我又不是那么高兴看到我。
她叫蕾安侬。在那一刻，就在那短暂的一瞬间，我觉得她就该叫这个名字。我也不知道为什么，我也不认识她，但是那个感觉很对。
这不是贾斯汀的想法，这是我的想法。我试图忽略它。她想要对话的人也不是我。
“你好。”我若无其事地说。
“你好。”她低声说道。
她看着地板，盯着她的手绘匡威帆布鞋。她在鞋上画着城市，鞋底周围用地平线作背景。她和贾斯汀之间一定发生了什么事，但是我不知道具体是什么。估计是连贾斯汀自己也不清楚的事。
“你还好吧？”我问。
即便她努力掩饰，我还是从她脸上看出了惊讶的神情。贾斯汀通常应该不会这么问。
奇怪的是：我想知道她的回答。实际上贾斯汀的满不在乎让我更加想要知道答案。
“很好。”她说，可是听起来一点儿都不好。
我发现我很难看清她。经验告诉我，每一个看似不引人注目的女孩实际上都有一个真实鲜活的内心世界。她掩饰自己的同时也想让我去发现，也就是说，她想让贾斯汀看到她所掩饰的部分。但是这超出了我的能力范围，也许此刻不用过多言语，只需耐心等待。
她完全沉浸在悲伤之中，以至于她不知道在别人看来这有多么明显。我觉得我懂她，有一刹那，我以为我是是了解她的，但是我惊奇地发现在她的悲伤中还存在着那么一丝坚定，甚至是勇敢。
“你今天还想一起去吃午饭吗？”她问。
最简单的做法就是说“不”。我常常这么做：一旦感觉到被牵扯进他人的生活时，我便朝着相反的方向走。
但蕾安侬—她鞋上画着的城市，她一刹那的勇敢，还有她不必要的悲伤—都让我迫不及待地想要知道她会说什么。很多年来我都在不了解的情况下和别人见面，然而就在这个早上，这个地点，面对这个女孩，我感受到一丝微弱的力量，让我想要对她有进一步的了解。因为我自身在那一刻的软弱或是勇敢，我决定跟随这个力量。我想要知道更多关于她的事情。
“当然。”我说，“一起吃午饭太好了。”
她松了一口气，或者至少在她允许的范围里算是放松了，一种带有些许谨慎的放松。通过读取贾斯汀的记忆我知道，他们俩已经交往一年多了。这已经很准确了，因为贾斯汀也不记得他们开始在一起的确切日子。
她伸手拉着我的手。令我意外的是这感觉太好了。
第一节课的铃声响了。“待会儿见。”我说。
只不过是简单的一句约定，但是对于蕾安侬来说，这句话意味着整个世界。