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3、她是天使吗 夏安楠 ...
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夏安楠朋友不多,中午多半是自己去食堂随便买点应付,晚上才会和朋友一起吃饭。
今天中午夏安楠不想下去了,她看着教室逐渐变得空荡荡,下意识望向郑砚溪的座位,她还在。
郑砚溪在睡觉。
难道...她没有饭搭子?也是,她是转校生,没朋友很正常吧。
其实郑砚溪仅仅是因为来例假了,不想下去。她睡前吃了一粒布洛芬,才止住小腹传来的阵阵绞痛。
夏安楠也枕着胳膊,趴在桌上,头偏向窗外,不知不觉已经过去20分钟,一抹抹灰白的身影从玻璃外闪过,由形单影只步履匆匆,到三两成伴时走走停停,再到最后的熙熙攘攘脚踩风火轮,铺天盖地地淹没整栋教学楼。
她们陆陆续续往四面八方走,每个人都笑容满面,每栋教学楼都语笑宣阗。
夏安楠盯着远处的桃树发愣,那是百深一中唯一的一棵桃树,一年只开一季。
好想,想,和她做朋友...
夏安楠的视线从桃树上挪开,心思回到教室时,人已满,她们都吃完了饭。抬头看钟,原来早已到午自习,她竟发呆了许久。
教室里只剩下安静的纸张刺啦声,夏安楠莫名烦躁,她从笔袋里掏出白色便签,笔尖停留,指尖攥久了笔杆,愈发白发冷。黑色的弧线抛出又迅速撤回,最后只洇开一个黑疙瘩。
我c,会不会太唐突了?
夏安楠摸了摸脖颈,迅速攥笔写:可以做朋友吗?接着又遮遮掩掩地搓了搓耳根。
看着纸上小孩般的字体,她皱了皱眉,夏安楠又随意写下,歪歪扭扭的:沈小白,帮我写这几个字,写好看点,拿出你全部的实力,拜托拜托。
她轻轻一抛纸条便飞了出去。
纸条不偏不倚,刚好砸在沈君意鼻头,她浑身一颤,瞌睡醒了大半。
沈君意看向夏安楠,后槽牙咬的死死的,“你奶奶的,吓死我了...”
夏安楠手掌合十,投去眼巴巴的表情,眼神传输道:“对不起小白,求求你了...”
沈君意没辙,轻声叹了口气,抬手比了个OK手势。
夏安楠朝郑砚溪方向看去,她正埋头做题,握着速干笔的指节白如玉,笔头留下满当当的痕迹,她时不时蹙眉,又展眉,整章做下来都游刃有余,她右手托腮,只露出一颗饱满的丸子头,在夏安楠看不见的角落,她抿了抿唇,嘴角扯出一条向上的弧线。
郑砚溪做数学题,从来都不用铅笔。
纸条又沿路返回,夏安楠将便签纸折了又折,悄悄地递给同桌,“帮我传给郑砚溪。”
没想到周琪娜竟直接叫出了她的名字:”砚溪,我同桌传给你的纸条。”
“咻”~...
夏安楠吓得魂飞魄散,她连忙低头,佯装看题。
郑砚溪疑惑地接过纸条,夏安楠
偷偷地抬头,她圆圆的眼睛盯了好久便签,眼尾一弯,嘴角浅浅地溢出一抹甜美的笑,宛如桃花初绽。
这是夏安楠第一次见郑砚溪笑。
郑砚溪指腹摩挲着笔杆,写下什么字又叫沈君意传了过去。
夏安楠连忙打开纸条,飒爽的那行字下是潦草却极拽的连笔字:这是你写的吗?
夏安楠思索了一会儿,几乎用尽全部的力气,才将一笔一划写的舒展开来:不是,不用在意这个。
她的手心,早已沾满湿润的汗液。
夏安楠又有严重的书写痉挛,但她自己并不知道。
郑砚溪一眼就看出了问题,不是字丑,而是病。
郑砚溪眉头微皱,一笔一划写下好字。
夏安楠看着孤零零的好字,心里翻涌如浪,她们真的可以做朋友。
她这么优秀,肯定很多人想和她做朋友,肯定...很多人,喜欢...
她并不是遥不可及的,夏安楠想,心脏异常跳动,像是在期待某种靠近。
夏安楠安静地枕着胳膊,一帧帧再平常不过的瞬间猛烈地撞击着她的大脑,深刻又清晰,窗外风渐小,她沉沉睡去。
夏安楠睡了好久,直到周琪娜扯她的衣袖。
下午第一节是英语课,张舒泽老师早已到达教室。
夏安楠迷迷糊糊地睁眼,脸上爬满粉红褶印,她眼眶泛红,眼皮还沉。
天哪,头好晕~
今天中午她睡的好早,睡久了大脑有点缺氧。
口干舌燥,她拿起水杯咕噜噜大口往嘴里灌,直到水见杯底。
夏安楠搓了搓压得发麻的半张脸,视线逐渐清晰。
“同学们,这节课是英语分享会,有谁能上来分享一下自己喜欢的英语小句子呢?”
舒泽老师向上推了推眼镜,柔和的眉眼下藏着高挺的鼻梁和骨子里的知性。
鸦雀无声...
张舒泽老师记性差,忘记提前和同学们说,她们都没准备。
她微微拧眉,唇角微勾:“有吗,没有的话我点人啦?”
教室里响起哗啦又急促的翻页声,大家都急忙翻看着原来积累的美句。
叽叽喳喳的讨论声突然冒出一股清澈的溪流,“我来试试,张老师。”
是郑砚溪,她先举起左手,又站起身来。
霎时,同学们齐刷刷地向她投去目光——这个新来的转校生。
“哦?”张舒泽弯了弯眉,“新同学?”
“嗯,不过,是一首简短的英文诗歌。”
张舒泽眼梢微抬,饶有兴趣地看着她,“嗯,可以。”
郑砚溪在大家的注视下来到讲台,她什么也没拿,眼神专注又真切。
溪流,在山谷萦绕,久久回响。
“The Butterfly and Me
I was counting shadows outside the window, just like always.
One, two, three.
I tried to bury the loneliness deep in my veins,
but the butterfly behind me saw it all.
She came from the direction of the sun.
Warm wind through willows, the fading glow of sunset—none of it could rival the dimple in her cheek.
“Want to catch butterflies?”
It was the first time she’d said my name.
I nodded, awkwardly.
Without a word,
her tall back turned.
Step by step, I followed.
This time, I didn’t count the shadows.
Two was enough.
I never thought she could actually catch one.
But there it was—perched on her fingertip.
She whispered something to it,
and the little life fluttered onto my knuckle.
She smiled.
“See? She likes you too.”
It was so stuffy.
The clouds didn’t cry.
We leaned against the railing,
the breeze brushing our ears—
ticklish.
“I’m cold,” I lied.
She grinned.
Warmth spread across the back of my hand.
I turned my head away.
The sunset blushed, inch by inch, half the sky.
Out of nowhere, she asked,
“What color am I?”
“The others are white,” I said.
“But you’re rainbow.”
She asked why.
I smiled, took her hand,
and told her,
“Seven-colored flowers bring luck.”
Rain fell on the osmanthus.
Each fragrant bud wrapped in pearls of water.
I loved the air after rain—
cool and clean.
She loved leaning on my shoulder,
using me for warmth.
She loved pressing her forehead to mine,
telling me my eyes were beautiful.
She loved holding my hand tight,
promising I’d never be alone again.
She loved, when I was half-asleep,
to lift my fingertips with hers,
slowly bringing our palms together.
“What do our fingers look like?” she asked.
I mumbled, “A house.”
She said, “That’s our home.”
I woke up.
I think I dreamed of a butterfly.
And her sun.”
分享已结束,她们还沉浸在清透的嗓音中,流利自然,偶尔卡壳,是她在思考,起伏平缓,有声有色。
老天奶!
夏安楠目不转睛地盯着她,她是天使吗?不然怎能治愈她的心?