She was from the English Drama Society and she announced that she could produce tears in less than 3 minutes. She claimed that during drama practice the day before, she was the fastest among 20 other members.

I laughed, and said that not only could I cry within a minute, I could continue crying for another 10 more minutes.

Someone took out his watch and placed it on the table. The challenge was on.

She was serious and absolutely focused. Her arms were crossed and she stared intently at the blank blackboard.

He was leaning back on his chair, looking out of the classroom window, looking at something far far away. Looking at something that wasn’t there.

She was a good stage actress, intense yet dramatical. While I was the class joker. Many thought I was probably up to some nonsense, challenging her.

30 seconds passed, and his eyes were red. A few classmates shouted in surprise. She ignored the fact and closed her eyes. Her eyebrows were almost knotted up.

At the 54th second, his tears rolled down. And they kept on falling and falling, and falling. The others patted his shoulders, congratulating him. He gave them a smile, while the tears kept on falling. It was a strange smile, one that was almost painful to watch. After 10 minutes, even she was impressed. She shook his hand and invited him to join in for her next drama practice.

He left the classroom for the toilet to wash up. And didn’t come back for lessons that day.

Only now, on hindsight, did they guess that he went to the toilet to continue his crying. Alone. His real crying. With real hot tears burning down his face. He couldn’t bear to return back to class with red swollen eyes.