Back in the days, most classmates in the sa major couldn’t recognize him and thought he must have been from the performing arts departnt next door.
It was Hannah who recognized him on stage.
Hannah happened to be a fan of his, so she also knew Jack Stewart.
One pursued performing arts, the other film direction, and in the end, one beca an actor, the other a manager.
Online, people called their bond a "legendary friendship."
It was a friendship universally known across campus, better understood by those of the sa class.
Because Jack Stewart had once fought soone for Hannah’s sake, and injured his most cherished face in the process.
A very small cut—not a mark left on his face, but one etched in his heart.
On stage, Jack’s speech was brief, and Hannah was the first to clap afterward.
Soone glanced her way and recognized her even through the mask.
As people began to gather around her, Hannah slipped out of the auditorium and sent a ssage to Jack on the way.
Jack, engaged in a conversation with a professor, couldn’t step away, so he replied promptly, reminding Hannah to avoid the paparazzi outside and to call him if anything happened.
Hannah responded with a simple "Got it."
Today was the school’s anniversary celebration; the campus was lively, and outside the school was even livelier.
The sky had already grown dark, but there were still photographers lingering near the gate, along with a few fans pretending to pass by.
Hannah decided to use the back door and called Arnold Simmons, asking him to et her there.
The back door was practically empty; it was rush hour traffic, the roads jamd, but Arnold had left early and arrived before Hannah.
The sumr heat lingered, yet with the sun now set, a rare coolness filled the air.
Cars nearby were parked along the roadside.
Arnold stepped out of his car, standing by the curb, the streetlight stretching out his shadow. His deep, jet-black eyes reflected the light, like a Kongming floating lantern in the night sky.
A re spark of fla, yet it carried the warmth of humanity.
She stood at the roadside, glanced left and right, and only crossed quickly when she was sure no cars were coming.
Just like a student walking ho from school.
Her first words to him were: "Arnold, I’m hungry."
Arnold wrapped her hand in his and slipped a piece of candy into her palm. "Let’s go get sothing to eat."
The transparent candy wrapper refracted rainbow hues under the light, glimring beautifully.
In his ho office, there was a glass display cabinet almost half the height of the wall, packed with jars of fruit candies. So jars were filled with candy, others with candy wrappers.
Hannah had a habit of collecting candy wrappers, saying she wanted to fold them into beautiful origami cranes.
She never actually folded a single one, but Arnold still kept the wrappers she left behind, gathering them neatly in emptied candy jars.
"Should we eat at ho or grab sothing outside?"
Hannah got in the car while Arnold leaned over to fasten her seatbelt.
"Let’s eat out. The traffic’s bad; it’ll take ti to get back ho."
Hannah nodded, peeled off the candy wrapper, and popped the candy into her mouth.
Just as Arnold was about to lean away, he glanced down and noticed the faint curve of her cheek, her lips slightly parted and glistening, her clear and pure eyes blinking softly.
She asked him, "What’s wrong?"
Not much—just that he felt like...
He thought to himself, then cupped her face gently and bent down to kiss her.
The subtle sweetness of fruit lingered between their lips.
It was orange-flavored.
Just like the warm, orange glow of the lights beyond the car window, softly illuminating the depths of the heart.
...
After eating out, they returned ho at nine in the evening.
The villa neighborhood was quiet; the swans in the artificial lake were resting, and far off on a hill, the brightly lit multicolor Ferris wheel could still be seen.
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