Joey followed his gaze, and smirked.
“Music Department Girl?”
“What about the Music Department Girl?” Dean tried to read his expression.
Joey looked at him as if he had lost his mind, “The one everyone is talking about, and maybe the one you were glancing at before.”
Dean shook his head, “I wasn’t glancing at that girl.”
Joey burst out laughing, “Dude, you literally rammed into this book cart!”
“That was just an acute accident.”
“Oh really,” Joey folded his arms, “Then tell me, where were you looking?”
Before Dean opened his mouth to answer him, his eyes caught sight of Professor Kote walking across the corridor.
He immediately tapped Joey’s shoulder, “I’ll see you in the evening at Uwaley’s.”
“Hey! Don’t change the topic!” Joey protested.
But Dean had already escaped.
“Professor Kote!”
The professor turned around and adjusted his glasses.
“Oh, Dean.”
Dean handed over a neatly arranged file, “The assignment, sir.”
Professor Kote looked pleasantly surprised, “Always the first one to submit.”
Dean smiled awkwardly while he rubbed the back of his neck softly.
“I just wanted to get over it soon.”
Professor Kote chuckled as he flipped a few pages.
The smile on his face slowly widened, “Excellent work.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The professor closed the file and placed it on his desk, as he asked, “So… How is your preparation for the Annual Art Exhibition going?”
Dean’s expression immediately soured, “To be honest, sir… Very bad.”
Professor Kote burst out laughing, “You say it every time.
And yet every time, you end up surprising everyone.” Seeing Dean still being nervous about his work, he added, “Don’t worry, you will do your best.
I am waiting to see your masterpiece.”
Dean only smiled helplessly.
Because the only thing he had drawn lately was that girl from his dreams.
After leaving the faculty building, Dean took out his phone.
Ride Confirmed.
He stared at the address again for a moment.
A strange heaviness settled inside his chest.
It had been three months since his last visit.
He muttered as the booked cab came, “Let’s get this over with.”
The cab stopped before a two-story building tucked away on a quiet street.
Dean paid the driver and stepped out.
His feet unconsciously slowed.
Standing near the entrance was Ms. Decca.
She wore a light colored cardigan over a simple dress, yet she looked elegant.
Her dark hair was neatly tied back.
The moment she saw him, her eyes softened.
“Hey, Dean!” A gentle smile appeared on her face, “It’s been long—”
Dean walked right past her.
The smile on her lips faltered for a brief moment.
Without looking back, Dean pushed open the glass door and stepped inside.
The familiar scent of coffee and lavender greeted him.
Even the waiting room was the same.
He straight-away went inside her therapy room.
A few moments later, Ms. Decca entered and sat opposite him.
“How have you been, Dean?”
“I’m here because Mom asked me to come.”
Ms. Decca lowered her eyes briefly for a second, before leaning against her sofa.
“I’ve been dreaming about a girl.”
She looked at him attentively.
“For a month now. At first it was just an ordinary dream. The soft rain.”
Ms. Decca remained silent as she listened to his details.
“Slowly slowly, a giant tree came. And then a girl sitting beneath it. One night, she started humming a melody, which now I hear daily in my dreams.”
Ms. Decca offered him a glass of water, as she noticed he started sweating.
Dean sipped the water.
“I never saw her face, as she used to sit with her head down.
Until yesterday.” His fingers slowly clenched, “I walked toward her.
I said hello.
And she slowly raised her head.
She looked at me.”
“Then?”
Dean’s breathing grew uneven, “She cut her veins, and someone pushed her from the cliff.”
He looked directly at Ms. Decca, “And then I woke up.”
Ms. Decca remained silent for a few seconds, then she softly asked, “Have you ever seen this girl in real life?”
Dean frowned.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
Dean leaned back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling, “She feels familiar. Yet, she also feels like a complete stranger.”
Ms. Decca folded her hands together, “Dean, our minds are more complicated than we think. We lost Josh, your father. And you’ve been still carrying grief in some part of your heart. And sometimes, when people are under-stress, their brains create repeating dreams, which could either be a happy dream or a nightmare.”
“So you’re saying my brain invented this girl?” Dean scoffed as remained unconvinced.
“Or perhaps… you simply saw someone once and forgot, which we all do. But your subconscious mind didn’t.”
Dean lowered his eyes, as the explanation was sounding somewhat reasonable to him.
Ms. Decca stood up and walked toward the bookshelf, “Go on a date or try something new, maybe that way you could put an end to it.
And if the dreams still continue…” She handed him a new sketchbook, “Draw her.”
Dean looked at the book.
“You’re an artist, sketch every detail you remember of that girl. You said she looked at you.”
Dean quietly took the sketchbook, “And then?”
Ms. Decca smiled, “To calm down your nerves, ask Joey if he has seen someone like her.”
Dean reached into his bag and hesitantly placed a small box on the table.
A neatly packed tart hamper.
He stood up and walked near the door.
“It’s expiry date is tomorrow,” he said flatly while opening the door and left.
The sound of footsteps faded down the corridor.
Ms. Decca stood still for a moment.
Her gaze fell on the box.
She slowly picked it up.
The bakery label on the bottom showed today’s date.
Her lips curved into a faint smile, “Still the liar…”
She placed the box back on the table, her eyes lingered on it for a moment longer.
Then she leaned back, as she closed her eyes, “…Some mysteries.”
A calm, unreadable expression settles on her face, “Are best to left untouched.”