Why was Mars wrestling with this inexplicable surge of emotion? As he briskly strolled away from the college campus, heading towards the eagerly awaited bus, he left Summer standing at the entrance, utterly bewildered, her senses jolted by his abrupt departure.
There she stood, frozen, struggling to comprehend the sudden void he had left behind.
"Mars, she's just a student," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in a futile attempt to dispel the persistent thoughts that had arisen during their initial encounter.
It had been an ordinary day, much like any other, until the universe seemed to conspire, thrusting him into an encounter with Summer that defied explanation.
As he glanced behind, all he found was an empty space where Summer had stood just moments ago. She had vanished, leaving him with a lingering sense of unease.
Trying to shake off the strange feeling, he gave himself a quick, self-inflicted slap on the cheek, almost as if he needed to snap out of a mysterious daydream.
Determined to regain his composure, Mars continued on his way towards the bus station, but thoughts of Summer lingered at the edge of his mind. The enigma of her sudden disappearance kept him guessing, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within him.
He couldn't help but wonder if there was more to their encounter than what initially met the eye.
Seeking refuge from the chaos of the world, Mars skillfully plugged in his trusty headphones. With a soft click, the familiar melody of "Paper Crown" enveloped him once again.
This song had become his faithful companion, its melancholic notes offering solace and prompting deep reflection amidst the tumult of his thoughts.
Despite traversing its emotional landscape countless times before, the music never failed to captivate him, ensnaring his senses with its timeless allure.
As the bus hummed along its route, Mars found himself lost in thought, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. Amidst the blur of the street, he caught sight of a familiar figure on the sidewalk – Summer.
Instantly, a rush of emotions flooded through him, though tinged with a sense of unease.
Her eyes, usually warm and welcoming to her friends, now appeared distant and cold to the world, as if burdened by unspoken sorrows. Mars couldn't help but wonder what had unfolded in her life.
The impulse to disembark the bus and rush to her side, to wrap her in a comforting embrace, surged within him. Yet, he knew such a gesture wouldn't be received warmly.
So, he clenched his fists, willing himself to remain seated, his heart heavy with longing.
In that moment, he closed his eyes, finding solace in the thought that the window shielded his emotions from prying eyes. Behind the thin barrier, he allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection amidst the changing scenery outside.
As the journey pressed on, Mars couldn't shake the hope that one day, somehow, they would bridge the icy distance that now separated their hearts and find their way back to each other.
After a short walk from the bus stop, he arrived at his cozy home, a haven of peace and quiet. As he entered, he gently placed his backpack on the floor and sank into the welcoming embrace of his couch.
Stretching out his legs on one end and resting his head on a soft cushion, he found himself drifting away from the present moment.
This marked the end of his first day as a guest professor, a day that had drained him both physically and mentally. Lost in thought, he stared up at the ceiling, letting his mind wander.
His gaze then fell upon a painting hanging on the wall, depicting a tranquil meadow.
To his surprise, it seemed as though the scenery was coming to life, with nature's gentle movements captivating his attention.
"Wow, look at those graceful movements," he murmured, completely mesmerized by the vibrant life that seemed to emanate from the painted canvas in front of him.
His eyes were fixed on a young girl, gracefully moving through a lush meadow, her hair dancing in perfect harmony with the gentle breeze.
As he continued to study the artwork, his vision started to blur, and his pupils widened like gateways to another world, as if he was being embraced by a dream right then and there.
But just as he was about to fully immerse himself in this captivating reverie, something extraordinary happened. The girl depicted in the painting shifted her gaze, locking her luminous eyes with his.
In their depths, he could see a warm and benevolent glow, as if the very spirit of the meadow was reaching out to connect with his soul.
Her eyes twinkled with a smile so precious, it felt like a cherished memory brought to life. This enchanting smile seemed to cast a spell, silently inviting him into a world where magic was real.
"Ele—," he began to say, his voice fading like a distant echo as overwhelming fatigue washed over him. Clutching a pillow to his chest, he surrendered to the comforting embrace of a deep slumber.
His sentence remained unfinished, lost in the vast realms of dreams.
Unsure how long he'd been dozing in that odd position, the cushion now lay quietly at his feet on the floor. When he returned in the afternoon, he chose not to light up the room, enveloping the house in darkness.
Yet, the sudden, loud ringtone that reverberated through his tall-walled abode startled him awake. In a flurry, he propelled himself upward, scrambling to grab his bag, stumbling along the way as he desperately searched for his phone and answered it.
"Not a single moment of sleep without interruption," he thought, running his fingers through his tousled hair as he examined the unfamiliar number on the screen.
He carefully placed the phone on the coffee table and switched on the speaker, patiently waiting for the caller's voice.
"Good day, Mr. Mars; this is Ms. Nada speaking."
"Hello, Ms. Nada."
"I extend my apologies for reaching out to you in this manner; I obtained your contact details from the dean. I'm truly appreciative of your willingness to assist."
"There's no need for apologies; it's perfectly fine."
"Yes, I've been deeply concerned about the students, uncertain of when I'll fully recover. This bout of typhoid has become alarmingly severe," she admitted, her voice tinged with worry.
Ms. Nada possessed a voice as soothing as honey, albeit slightly tremulous, likely due to her ongoing illness. Mars leaned in, resting his elbows on his knees, giving her his full attention.
"I understand that you're not familiar with any of the students, so I've gathered their documents to aid you in comprehending the situation," she explained, followed by a gentle chuckle.
A faint beeping noise, reminiscent of hospital bedside monitors, lingered in the background, indicating her continued stay as a patient.
Mars couldn't help but admire the woman's resilience and dedication.
"I'll send you their reports in documents by tonight, and you can reach out to me at this number if you encounter any issues."
"Ms. Nada, I'm sincerely grateful. Your compassion for these students is truly commendable."
"Indeed, they are remarkably diligent, especially Summer."
Ah, Summer, Mars thought. Despite their brief encounter, he sensed her as a formidable woman who didn't easily succumb to obstacles. Her resolute gaze left an impression on anyone she encountered.
"Are you still with me, Mr. Mars?" Lost in his thoughts, Mars hadn't realized that Ms. Nada was still speaking.
"Yes, I'm here. My apologies for not responding sooner; I was thoroughly engrossed in listening," he admitted with a nervous chuckle before reaching for his phone. "Alright, Ms. Nada. I believe it's time for you to get some rest. I look forward to our future interactions."
Ms. Nada hummed in acknowledgment and ended the call.
In less than ten minutes, Mars's phone emitted a soft chime, heralding the arrival of a new message. He had anticipated this notification, accurately predicting that it would contain the eagerly awaited student reports sent by Ms. Nada.
To say Mars was merely thrilled would be a gross understatement; a wave of sheer exhilaration surged through every fiber of his being, propelling his heart into a rapid rhythm as he ascended the staircase.
Each step felt like a heartbeat, a pulsating cadence that drew him nearer to the object of his intense anticipation – his computer monitor.
With each step, Mars's eager feet practically danced upon the floor, their quick, rhythmic taps echoing the racing thoughts in his mind. In his left hand, he tightly grasped a pen, a symbol of readiness and determination.
Meanwhile, his right hand moved with a fluidity born of years of familiarity with the mouse and keyboard. It was a delicate ballet of technology and human intent, guided by a singular purpose.
A curious scene unfolded as Mars noticed a pair of glasses resting nearby, undoubtedly meant to ease the strain on his eyes during his upcoming digital journey.
Despite this thoughtful provision, Mars, consumed by impatience, opted to forego the small comfort. The urgency to access the awaiting documents on the screen overshadowed any desire for visual clarity.
With fervor, he scrolled through the digital pages, his determination and impatience practically palpable in the air around him.
As he delved into the paperwork, an unshakable curiosity nagged at him relentlessly. Who exactly was Summer? What drove her apparent need for assistance?
These questions swirled in his mind, multiplying with each line he read. Mars found himself filled with inquiries, each demanding an answer.
After sifting through a dozen student names, Mars's gaze finally alighted on his target, and he softly murmured, "Summer Rivera." Sinking back into his chair, he acknowledged that he had forgotten to put on his spectacles.
Nevertheless, his laziness prevailed, and he opted to continue perusing the pages.
The first page provided all the standard info about Summer: her name, birthplace, and date of birth. But it was the second page that really grabbed Mars's attention.
Enclosed in quotation marks was the phrase "Literature Queen," a title bestowed upon Summer by Ms. Nada herself during her freshman year in college.
The rest of the details hinted at intriguing aspects of Summer's life, far too personal for a school report.
As Mars pondered, curiosity gnawed at him. What were Summer's interests? What kind of books did she enjoy?
It seemed her passion for writing intersected with a deep curiosity about history. Some of her literary works even quoted Ms. Nada, giving the impression that she was closely monitored.
Mars was surprised. His search for other students' records turned up nothing substantial. Each report contained only tidbits about school projects and personal info. Yet, everything about Summer and those around her felt suspicious to him.
"Why does everything about Summer and those around her seem so suspicious?" Mars muttered to himself, trying to piece it all together. He closed his eyes, reflecting on their encounter that morning.
Summer had seemed rushed, almost resentful of his presence for a moment. Why? Mars wondered, his curiosity growing.
They had only just met, yet he felt drawn to her, as if some invisible thread connected them, weaving their fates together in an unexplainable way.
He scrolled through the other profiles, honing in on Summer's constant companions, Warrin and Liam, who always seemed to be by her side like dedicated bodyguards.
Realizing the complexity of the situation, he carefully assessed all three of them, mentally jotting down his observations.
Once again, Mars was rudely awakened by his alarm, a routine that had become all too familiar. He found himself slouched over his desk, the screensaver showing bouncing balls on the dark computer screen behind him.
Letting out a weary sigh, he stretched his arms to silence the blaring alarm.
Dark circles rimmed his eyes, evidence of his exhaustion, and his usually sharp features now looked tired, almost like a frazzled scientist.
Despite knowing he didn't have any literary division classes on his schedule, he carried on with his day. Instead, he had a carefully planned meet-up with Summer in the library. They had set this rendezvous during a short break when neither of them had any academic commitments.
However, fate had other plans, and his timing turned out to be off.
So, there he was, surrounded by the maze-like bookshelves of the library, waiting patiently for Summer, who was running late.
As the minutes passed, his excitement slowly faded, replaced by a growing sense of confusion.
Sensing his unease, the observant librarian politely intervened, asking, "Do you need any help, Mr. Mars?" He responded with a subtle shake of his head, indicating that he would wait it out on his own.
The librarian, undisturbed by the ambient whispers of the pages, resumed her tasks, embodying the essence of a guardian over knowledge and tranquility.
Meanwhile, Mars, left to his own devices, continued to wander through the serene expanse, his gaze drifting over the spines of numerous volumes. Time flowed lazily, its passage marked by a cadence of uncertainty.
Then, as if guided by an invisible force, Mars's attention was drawn to a single tome that seemed to call out to him. Its title, "The Greatest Cliff," elegantly inscribed on the spine, sparked his interest anew.
Amidst the recent flurry of activity, he had nearly forgotten about his exploration of this mysterious cliff.
The allure of adventure and discovery surged within him once more, akin to a dormant ember reignited by a gentle breeze.
With a graceful motion, he reached upwards to pluck the book from its lofty perch, his glasses resting firmly on his nose, lending him the air of a debonair protagonist from a captivating romance series.
The book's cover bore the bold, shimmering letters of its title, embossed in radiant gold against a backdrop of deep purple, adorned with intricately scattered foliage.
"Ah, 'The Greatest Cliff,'" he murmured fondly to the book, his fingertips tenderly tracing the embossed letters. "I can't even begin to explain how long I've been searching for you."
As he immersed himself further into the captivating pages of his newly discovered literary treasure, an unexpected interruption broke the spell.
The university's dean, a distinguished figure radiating an aura of authority and importance, stepped into the room. Despite his commanding presence, there was a warmth about him that instantly put those around him at ease.
Fixing his gaze on Mars, the dean spoke in a gentle yet firm tone, "Mars, there you are. Can I have a moment of your time?"
"Of course, sir," Mars replied respectfully, his voice tinged with deference.
With a nod of acknowledgment, he carefully closed the cherished book he had been exploring, making sure it was properly checked out.
Without hesitation, Mars followed the dean to his office, his curiosity piqued and ready to engage in whatever discussion lay ahead.