We will only experience one summer in our lives.

I was daydreaming on the school rooftop again. It had been a secret all to myself since the day I found out you could get up there using the fire escape. She was the only person I shared this secret with.

"What are you thinking?"

A voice suddenly woke me.

"About where to go during the summer break. Are you going somewhere?"

She paused, "Not sure. It's not up to me." She paused again, and then added,

“Will you be back?"

"Of course. What's wrong?" I wondered.

I searched in her eyes but found nothing.

She looked away.

"Nothing," she sighed, "Let's hang out this summer."

Suddenly, my heart was beating fast, ominously. I wanted to ask a question, but I couldn’t find the words.

"Sure," was all I was able to say.

Our interactions had always been marked by a wordless ambiguity.

I knocked on her desk when she was napping quietly. The breath of summer wind lingers around. I watched the pens that fell accidentally, and some strand of her brown hair that fluttered. Under the sunshine, her shadow was diffused into reflections of summer.

"Aren’t you going home? School’s out." I asked.

"...Hmmm." She made a muffled sound, then huddled herself.

She was always like this, murmuring and letting others guess what she meant.

I sighed, and then swiftly pulled out a crumpling textbook under her arms.

She barely moved, but finally opened her eyes reluctantly and raised a half-conscious smile.

"You slept for a long time." I teased, though she only napped for five minutes.

She rubbed her eyes, then casually grabbed her bags from my hand. "For real? Thank you so much Mr. Timer, for keeping track of my sleep schedule!" She blinked slyly. I suddenly didn’t know what to say.

She suddenly awoke, "Well...it’s time to go!."

( She was standing under the luminous light.

"I am leaving leaving," she explained.

"Where are you going?"

She didn't answer but smiled softly. But I saw a flash of water in her eyes.

I wanted to hold her. I wanted to ask her what she was leaving for. I wanted to tell her that there was a new brand of soda in our school store that she hadn’t tried. I wanted to tell her that she doesn't have to cry. I wanted to tell her that I would be sad.

Di-Di-

I opened my eyes only to see rigid blackness. December's wind penetrated along the grey curtain, like the fish bone that stuck in my throat. )

Summer ended and school went on as usual, tediously and frustratingly. I would still go up to the rooftop, but this time all alone. For a long time, she was the lingering ghost in the nook of my heart, though sometimes, I wondered if she'd ever existed.

I eventually never saw her again.