That Summer, Unspoken

"That Summer, Unspoken": Transfer student Delvin broke into Bai Yun's desk wearing a sea-flavored white shirt. In the afternoon when the chirping of cicadas was wrapped in the fragrance of gardenia, the edge of the draft paper where he taught her to solve physics problems hid the unhanded candies; she saved a whole jar of stars in a glass bottle, and in the end she just stuffed the words "Happy Graduation" into it. In the evening when a typhoon passed, the two of them were watching the rain-soaked sunset on the rooftop. Delwin's crumpled note was blown away by the wind. When Bai Yun bent down to pick it up, he suddenly said "see you tomorrow" - but in the classroom the next day, all that was left was the notebook with ginkgo leaves in her drawer. "I like you" was written on the title page, and the signature was blurred by the eraser. Many summers later, Bai Yun always thought of the unspoken answer, like the bubbles that overflowed when the ice-cold soda was opened, so sweet and empty.