Chapter12
1296 Words
On the way back to school, Jocelyn hummed a happy tone.
Archer was inspired by her optimism and seemed to forget his troubles as well.
A subtle scent of peach blossoms drifted along the tree-lined paths of the campus.
"Jocelyn, could you please give me your phone number. You can call me the next time you need to get in touch." Archer had been carefully choosing his words for a long time before summoning mustering the courage to ask for her contact information.
Jocelyn appeared to have been waiting for this moment for a long time and immediately reached into her pocket to pull out her phone.
Delicately small, it shimmered with a gentle blue light in the sunlight.
The two exchanged contact information happily.
Having established the emotional groundwork over the past two days, there was no awkwardness at all.
Jocelyn said, "You can contact me during the day; I don't use my phone at night."
"All you do is read silly jokes, why don't you read them at night?" Archer laughed.
"Do you dare to laugh at me? Unlike you boys, who only play games." Jocelyn pretended to be annoyed and quickly stepped forward to tug at Archer's shirt.
The two pursued one another along the tree-lined path.
Laughter and cheerful voices echoed across the lush green grass on both sides of the road.
The Class 9 classroom was on the second floor, and the two parted ways at the corner of the stairs.
"Goodbye, Jocelyn, I'll text you later."
"Alright, I may not check my phone when I'm busy, but I will definitely reply as soon as I see your message." As Jocelyn went upstairs, Archer made his way toward the classroom.
Halfway up, he suddenly stopped, took a few steps back, and the proceeded up the stairs, wanting to catch up and see which class Jocelyn was in.
He searched the third, fourth, and fifth floor but found no trace of the girl.
Had she left so quickly?
Archer patted the handrail as he walked down the stairs dejectedly.
They were friends, but she refused to reveal her true class to him.
Did she still not trust him?
Afternoon classes were challenging as most students appeared drowsy and listless.
Archer recalled fishing with Jocelyn by the river yesterday afternoon; time seemed to pass quickly.
Could this be the renowned theory of relativity?
The final class concluded promptly at six o'clock.
Mr. Tommy walked into the classroom and called out, "Archer, come with me."
Archer quickly packed his bag and followed closely.
When they were some distance from the classroom, he cautiously asked, "Mr. Tommy, where are we going?"
Mr. Tommy said seriously, "To the hospital. I need to see your attending physician in person and speak with him."
"There's no need for that; Dr. Perry is very busy," Archer responded instinctively.
He dreaded the smell of disinfectant in the hospital and the sight of doctors' white coats.
The hospital walls had echoed with prayers more devout than those spoken in temples.
There were too many farewells between life and death, too many separations between the living and the dead.
Mr. Tommy had made up his mind; he would not miss any opportunity to save Archer.
Even if it was truly beyond saving, he wanted to hear it directly from the doctor.
Upon arriving at the parking lot, he started his old Buick and gestured for Archer to get in.
As they passed the bus stop near the school gate, they saw bus number 19 slowly pulling up to the platform.
Archer sat in the passenger seat, craning his neck to spot that single peach blossom in the crowd.
Regrettably, he felt disappointed. Perhaps there were too many people waiting for the bus, or Mr. Tommy was driving too fast.
He didn't get to see Jocelyn.
Upon arriving at Central Hospital, Archer escorted Mr. Tommy to Dr. Perry's office.
Dr. Perry adjusted his glasses, shook hands with Mr. Tommy, and wore a grave expression.
Mr. Tommy introduced himself by saying, "Hello, I'm Archer's counselling teacher. I am here to inquire about his condition."
Dr. Perry said with admiration, "You are truly a conscientious and responsible teacher."
"Archer mentioned that you are also a dedicated and responsible doctor. Is there truly no other way?" Mr. Tommy pleaded sincerely.
The two then discussed Archer's condition.
Dr. Perry was a meticulous man with exceptional medical expertise. He employed extensive professional medical terminology to convey the eight-character phrase: "The disease has reached its incurable stage; there is no hope of recovery."
The last glimmer of hope in Mr. Tommy's eyes quietly faded away.
Sorrow overwhelmed him like a tidal wave.
"He was just eighteen years old. Why did this occur?"
"There was a girl before who had the same disease, and she was even younger than him!" Dr. Perry let our a sigh.
While the two conversed, Archer sat quietly to one side.
As if their conversation were entirely unrelated to him.
Two days have passed, and he has gradually moved beyond the initial shock and sadness, accepting reality with composure.
Thinking of all his classmates, what will they be like in their old age?
Gray hair, missing teeth, faces marked by age spots, and a shaky gait.
He will not have any of those concerns.
I, Archer, will forever remain eighteen.
Upon leaving the hospital, Mr. Tommy felt especially heavy-hearted and remained silent for a long time.
"Mr. Tommy, don't look so serious; cheer up," Archer said with a lighthearted tone.
Imitating Jocelyn's voice, he comforted his homeroom teacher.
In any case, since nothing can be changed, why not live each day happily?
"Archer, would you like something to eat or drink?" Mr. Tommy asked earnestly.
"I don't want to be pitied or receive sympathy," Archer said.
"No, that's not what I meant," Mr. Tommy explained quickly.
"Please take me to the school gate, and then go home early to be with your wife and children!" Archer said casually.
Although he genuinely wished to take advantage of Mr. Tommy's generosity, he had eaten too much hot pot at noon.
He decided to have something simple for dinner to avoid overloading his stomach.
At the school gate, Archer bid farewell to Mr. Tommy and headed home alone.
Passing by a food stall, he casually bought a hot dog fried rice.
Upon entering, he noticed that the owner had labeled the lunchboxes "Dog Food" for easy identification.
His appetite disappeared instantly.
Following the doctor's instructions, Archer swallowed a handful of brightly colored pills.
He was doubtful about the effectiveness of these medications.
Would they allow him to live for three months, or only for ninety days without them?
He picked up the fish food and fed some to the two goldfish.
It was once rumored that fish have only a seven-second memory.
If only he were a fish, he could forget all his sorrows and swim carefree.
Beside the fish tank lay a bamboo flute.
The red tassels were especially vibrant.
This was the only item Archer had brought from home.
He had learned to play the flute for a while as a child, but later, busy with his studies, he gradually gave it up.
Now, even picking it up again to play the simple "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," sounded hoarse and unpleasant.
Suddenly, a melody came to mind.
The music he heard yesterday when he met Jocelyn was completely unfamiliar.
It was melodious, though somewhat unusual.
"La soso sosou do soso la, soso la soso soso la soso la soso..." Archer attempted to play it several times, but it was entirely off-key, and he eventually gave up in frustration.
Night had fallen, and if the wind continued to blow, the neighbors might come knocking at the door.
- Writer
