If I had a chance to visit our school, I would love sitting down at our school’s cafeteria and enjoying a taro bubble tea.
I would sit there leisurely and chat nonchalantly with the employers about what I am going to do and what I had done so far. I would crake up while they recalled our obsession with spring rolls: always bought an odd number of rolls, we then competed for the last one. After a while, I would like to get off the chair and settle at the corner of the cafeteria, and let my existence be forgotten.
I wouldn’t mind sitting on the dirty floor, or becoming a subject of people’s gossips. I would sit there patiently waiting for you, just like I had done for the past two years. I might open my schoolbag to check whether I forgot anything in the class. I might take a random notebook and sketch my study plan for tonight. My hand was still moving, but my mind might travel somewhere. Maybe I was playing with those white playful clouds. Maybe I was wondering why leaves were green. Once in a while, I would shift my body gently and listen to the sound of the bicycles. Then I would open my eyes if I heard yours. If I were wrong, I would be sulk a little bit. But soon I would become excited, close my eyes and determine to notice the sound of your bike, your voice, your feet, and your breath.
You stood next to your bike, smiled radiantly. Apologizing for being late, you bought me the taro bubble tea. Thank you for your tea, I bought your favorite black chocolate bar. Silently, I drank my bubble tea, and enjoyed the taste lingering on the tip of my tongue. You slowly stripped off the wrapper but finished it for a second. I would secretly glance at you now and then. When our eyes met, I would immediately go back to my bubble tea and hope my hair was long enough to hide my face while you were clearing your throat and scratching the back of your head awkwardly.
I wondered how much the place had change in the past three years. Did they cut down the tree that we usually sat on the hot afternoon? Did they discard the old wood roof where we hid from the rain? Did they replace new table and chair? Did they still sell taro bubble tea? Did all the bikes still have pass the cafeteria to reach the school’s gate?
I don’t know. I hadn’t come back for the last three years, and I wondered why. Those memories are still so vivid that I thought I was a fourteen years old girl waiting for her boyfriend on one evening. But I will go back this time to buy a taro bubble tea, to sit at the corner of the cafeteria and to play with those clouds. And maybe I will see you there.