Raindrops wove a dense curtain in the dusk. When Lin Xia pushed open the glass door of McDonald's, the back of her school uniform shirt had already soaked through to a deep blue. The red banner for the graduation ceremony still fluttered at the entrance of the auditorium, but was soon weighed down by this late June rain.
She took out a tissue to wipe the raindrops from her bangs and looked up to see the boy sitting by the window. Lu Chen's white shirt was more than half wet, with water stains tracing down his collarbone into his neckline. The fingers holding the cup of cola were clearly defined at the joints, reflecting a cold white light in the dusk reflected in the glass window. He always loved to sit in this position by the floor-to-ceiling window, with endless practice papers spread out in front of him.
"Do you need a tissue?" As Lin Xia pushed the tissue pack over, her fingertip brushed against his cold hand. Lu Chen looked up at her, tiny droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes, like stardust resting on butterfly wings.
It was Thursday of the third week of the second year of high school, and raindrops meandered like rivers on the glass. Lin Xia often thought later that if she hadn't gone to McDonald's to escape the rain that day, she might not have fallen into this long rainy season.
When the ginkgo leaves began to turn yellow, Lin Xia developed a habit of taking a detour to McDonald's every day after school. Lu Chen would always be at the second table by the window, writing problems, his left hand pressing down on the paper while his right hand twisted that black pen. She noticed that when he drank cola, he would draw little people on the coaster, and when eating fries, he would dip three times in ketchup. When he couldn't solve a physics problem, he would poke the tip of his pen into the web of his left hand.
"This problem should be solved using the work-energy theorem." One day, she finally couldn't help but speak up, her pencil tip pointing at the scrap paper, "You see, the initial velocity is zero..."
Lu Chen had a faint mint scent, mixed with the aroma of ink from the pages. When he solved problems, his eyelashes hung low, casting small shadows under his eyes. Lin Xia watched him finish the last step and suddenly realized he had a light brown mole on his right earlobe, like a coffee stain that had accidentally splattered.
After that day, their scrap paper began to pile up on the table like snow. Lin Xia would secretly fold ginkgo leaves when she reached the seventeenth problem, the golden veins fluttering like butterflies in her fingers. Occasionally, Lu Chen would look up, his gaze brushing over her flushed earlobes, while his pen drew a series of connected English words on the coaster.
The last rain before the college entrance examination came unexpectedly. Lin Xia rushed into the convenience store with her study materials and bumped into Lu Chen, who was organizing the shelves. There was flour on his blue and white apron, and he was holding freshly steamed buns, the rising steam fogging his glasses.
"Two servings of oden," the customer in a suit knocked on the glass case. When Lu Chen turned around, Lin Xia saw a bandage on the back of his neck, the edges already yellowed and curling. In the intervals when the cash register chimed, his left hand was always pressed against his stomach, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.
Raindrops strung together like a crystal curtain under the eaves. Lin Xia watched him weaving through the shelves and suddenly understood those moments of hesitation. She remembered the volunteer form she submitted last week, Lu Chen's form that remained blank; she remembered his shoes that were always washed to a faded white; she remembered the way he suddenly paused while solving a problem, leaving a red mark on the coaster from his pen.
When the cicadas of July tore open the envelope of the admission notice, Lin Xia was waiting for Lu Chen at the bus stop. He was carrying a faded canvas bag, his sleeve revealing his bony wrist. The splash from the last bus wet his pant legs, and Lin Xia caught the familiar mint scent on him, mixed with the rust of the bus station.
"I'm going to Shenzhen." Lu Chen looked at the flickering neon across the street, "My uncle's auto repair shop needs help." As he spoke, his Adam's apple rolled lightly, as if he had swallowed a bitter pill.
Lin Xia touched the envelope in her pocket, the brown paper already warmed by her body temperature. Inside was a note folded into a ginkgo leaf shape, the ink blurred by tears three times. She looked at Lu Chen's trembling fingers as he took the envelope and suddenly noticed that the mole on his right earlobe had disappeared— it was merely a mark she had imagined.
Raindrops slanted through the glow of the streetlight. When Lu Chen turned around, Lin Xia saw half of a red object peeking out from his canvas bag's side pocket. It was the soda bottle she had thrown away yesterday, with a smiley face drawn on the cap and the words "Keep it up" written in fluorescent pen.
The sound of the bus rolling over the puddle drowned all farewells. Lin Xia stood still, watching the taillights blur into two blobs of crimson light in the rain. Suddenly, her ginkgo bracelet broke, and the golden leaves scattered in the water, like countless unfinished whispers.
Later, every time Lin Xia passed by McDonald's, she would glance at the second seat by the window. The glass still bore the watermarks of that rainy season, and when the sunlight passed through, it would refract tiny rainbows. One time, she saw a boy in a school uniform teaching a girl how to solve problems, the girl's hairpin shaped like a ginkgo leaf, with hearts drawn all over the scrap paper.
In the lost and found box next to the cash register, a yellowed admission ticket lay quietly. The boy in the photo was pressing his lips together, the frame slightly askew, with the name "Lu Chen" neatly written in the name field. On the back, formulas were written in black pen, and the last line of small letters was blurred by water stains, with the outline of "I'm sorry" barely discernible.
