9
Caleb came every day.
Re–doing high school was easy for me.
Each time, I’d quickly finish my work, then lean on the desk, watching him.
His sometimes smooth, sometimes furrowed brow, his flickering pupils, the fine beads of sweat on his nose, his slightly reddened lips, his bobbing Adam’s apple, and his gradually reddening earlobes.
I absorbed every detail, engraving him into my memory.
It was like making up for the youth I’d spent tog timid to meet his gaze.
Caleb’s Adam’s apple bobbed faster and faster, until he finally forced out a voice like a mosquito from between his teeth.
“If you’re done, go rest. Do I have writing on my face or something?”
I leaned forward, closing the distance between our faces.
“No writing! You just look as beautiful as a flower.”
*Plink!*
<
The pen in Caleb’s hand rolled away.
I bent down to pick it up, but through the gap under the desk, I saw his tight pants.
Still so… gifted.
I’d teased him too much!
I was reborn, but Caleb was still a genuine high school student.
Putting the pen down, I quickly exited the study.
Caleb seemed to guess what I had seen; when he emerged from the study, his face was red all the way down to his neck.
“Today my dad’s taking me back to the family’s old estate, so we won’t be eating together.”
“Wait!”
I called out to Caleb, who was hastily trying to escape.
“Tomorrow night, there are fireworks at the Riverwalk. Do you want to go watch them together?”
“Yes!”
Before going to bed that night, I called Chloe.
[Tomorrow night, I’ll distract Caleb.]
As for Mom, I didn’t need to remind her at all.
She knew Mr. Donovan’s habits.
Every time he returned from the old estate, he would stay at home for two days.
ང་ གནན་པས་ལངར་དང་ཛད་སྒོ་ས་ རང་གཞུ་
