Woman In Irish Linen Shirt

Miss Pan De's eyes were wet, without a trace of defense. She had never looked at me like this before, and for a while, I felt a little heart trembling.

I looked at her and nodded silently.

"When?" She lowered her eyes, her index finger scratching boredly across the screen.

"Yesterday." I explained immediately, "but I'm not sure, I didn't hide it from you on purpose, you know we only met once..."

"Twice." She interrupted me, "but I didn't call you, after all you let my pigeons go."

I couldn't say anything to refute, and looked at her with some guilty conscience, but Miss Pan De did not look up at all. I whispered: "I'm sorry..."

"I should have asked for your phone at that time." Miss Pan De closed the tablet, but still refused to give me even a little look. She looked at a corner of the small coffee table: "I waited for two days, and then tried to inquire about you from my friends at the University of Massachusetts. I also wondered if you would be Amherst or Manchester, but everyone They say that there is no such person."

"I……"

"I know. You are just an hour's drive away, just out of the range I can think of." She didn't give me a chance to defend. "Then about a week later? I remember very clearly that it was Independence Day. My friend. Tell me that there is indeed a long-haired East Asian girl in a black vest who appeared in Pioneer Valley for two consecutive days last week, and then called for more than a hundred people."

I just felt a blood surge up my head, I couldn't squeeze a word out, and even the roots of my ears were tingling.

Miss Pan De finally looked at me: "Are you recording any challenge videos at the time?"

"I have a friend, she is—it’s true, I didn’t make up a friend—" I explained hurriedly, opening my mouth but not knowing the words, almost incoherent, "Uh, she’s from Manholian She is very passionate about gender research. We did not return to China during the summer vacation, so she took me to volunteer to collect data for her project..."

"What project?"

"The title of the paper is "Analysis of the Success Rate of Women of Different Races in the Field of Same-sex Stroke: Multiple Oppression of Lesbians." This is the only sentence I said slippery, because the title was started by me and Qu Zhizhi. Also listed me as the second work, "For some reasons you can imagine, this paper has not been published anywhere, but I should still be able to find the paper itself, and I can show it to you if the corresponding author agrees."

"So for academic purposes?"

"I'm not using it as an excuse..." My two hands were curled together and clasped together, looking at Miss Pande pitifully. If possible, I really want to hold her hand, but this is my fault. If I want to really explain it, I can’t shame.

Miss Pan De leaned over and straightened my hair back to my ears: "I will give you the opportunity to explain. Considering that you have met so many people, but you can still think of me, you earned this opportunity yourself."

I must blush. When she just leaned over, I didn't dare to breathe. Now I cleared my throat and said, "I really want your call."

She was stunned for a moment, her expression unnatural for a moment. Miss Pan De seemed a little shy.

I'm more shy, but I still want to make it clear: "You asked me, "Seriously?" I answered "Yes", right? I am really serious. But your male partner looks like staring at all times. Staring at me like a wolf, I thought he was your boyfriend. Uh, it might not be a good excuse, but I was very depressed during that time. I'm not sure if I should start a date..."

Memories flooded me as if the floodgate was opened. The heat in Massachusetts at the end of June is similar to that of Singapore today, but there is a connection between fantasy and reality: 11 years ago I was at one end of the bridge, at the end of the road, and there were people waiting.

Miss Pande stared at me and brought me back to the past.

When I got better, I didn't want to move at all. I couldn't help but ask Zhizhi again and again, so I reluctantly drove with her to the University of Massachusetts. There were also three guinea pigs in the same car, all of Zhizhi's classmates in Manholin, who were persuaded by a high price of five hundred dollars a day to get on her thief ship.

Among them, only the girl of African descent was a homosexual who came out publicly. I went deep into the closet, but Dr. Qu obviously felt that I was in line with the mainstream aesthetic of lesbians—it might be the reason why she told me to go on board. She did everything for the scientific research results.

It was already four o'clock in the afternoon, right? I seem to have just finished drinking the second bottle of mineral water of the day, and the "strong man" is still a dozen or so short. Miss Pan De appeared at that time.

Of course I don't know her last name or first name, but a crimson figure stands out in the crowd. She and her male partner walk very fast. Neither of them has powdered powder, and they are clearly dressed as part of the stage. Is there any show tonight? I followed and looked over, and I arrived in front of her without knowing it.

I want to know her. At that time, I only had this idea in my mind.

But when I was about to speak, I realized how abrupt I was. They were obviously in a hurry. The boys were still staring at me with very unkind eyes. How could I bother a lady who is in a hurry and who is also known as a flowery master at this time? However, I even glanced at the male partner with a smile, looked at her and said: "Hi. Can I ask for your phone number?"

She stopped her footsteps, seemingly not offended at all. Her eyes are so charming, I thought, and then I saw her soft lips slightly open: "Seriously?"

"Of course." I handed the phone over, "I want to know you. I like your eyes, by the way."

Her male partner is about to kill with his eyes.

"Thank you." She handed me the phone.

"I'll call you later." I let go, "I believe we will meet again."

And this really happened.

Miss Pan De's hand gently brushed my cheek. Even her warm skin makes me feel tender. What kind of warmth is in her eyes? She said softly as if to appease me: "I thought at that time, if I had a chance to see you again, I would take the initiative. Then you really showed up again, on the flight from Boston to Frankfurt. Guess. That's right, we did take the same plane."

I asked in a low voice, "Did you talk to me?"

"No." She shook her head, "You slept all the way. We sat behind you, and even my partner recognized you, but you just didn't even look aside."

I bit my lip: "I'm sorry..."

I changed to Hamburg temporarily. I was reluctant when I left, but I had to think about it in the long term.

I made up my mind to change to engineering. It is easier to get the full prize during the Ph.D. and it is easy to get a job, which will not bring too much burden to my family.

"You don't have to apologize." She touched my face again. "Just hit up a conversation. I was too serious."

I murmured, "Are you also going to Germany as exchange students?"

"No. Peter and I were invited to the WDSF headquarters for an exchange meeting. We are the youth representatives of bullfighting. The following year we also got an invitation. My life focuses more on dancing, so there is no Then consider the development of a romantic relationship."

The one she mentioned may be some kind of dance association, I haven't heard of it. But since the transoceanic flight also invites people to participate in the exchange meeting, it must be a very wealthy organization, plus the initial abbreviation is W, I am a little surprised: "Are you a world-class dancer?"

She laughed: "No, no. My mother used to be very famous. I just touched her."

"Oh." I was speechless. There are almost no well-known dancers of Latin dance in Asia, and my knowledge of dance is really limited. I finally thought of an angle, and quickly said: "Considering the age, your mother must be a pioneer Indian woman. ."

She was stunned, laughing harder, her shoulders trembling.

I was so embarrassed that I hesitated, "Am I too offensive?"

"It's not because of that. There are indeed very few Indian women born in the 1960s who are willing to learn Latin dance. Your stereotype is not wrong. I'm sorry." She finally stopped laughing, "My mother is Polish."

My face must be red.

India has a vast territory and many races. Miss Pande is indeed not an Aryan with high eyebrows, but because her surname and skin color are also politically correct, I haven't guessed other possibilities. I apologized in a low voice, really wishing to bury myself in the soil, my entire face burning.

Miss Pan De touched my face and rubbed her fingers lightly, bringing a hint of coolness: "Your cheeks have become rosy."

"Really?" I made a little voice with difficulty, "I am embarrassed and a little shy."

Her eyes glided across my eyes, slowly sliding down, and along the bridge of the nose, she saw a deeper place, and finally stayed somewhere. Her voice was also softer than before: "Why are you shy?"

She is looking at my lips.

My brain is blank: "I don't know."

"Have my face turned red?" Seeing me shaking her head, the corners of her mouth raised slightly, "Actually, I am also a little nervous. Yao..."

"Um?"

"You made me realize that I like girls." Miss Pande looked at me, like a burning flame in the dark, "But apart from you, no one of the same **** wanted to call me for a long time. Number. I'm still wondering if I am unpopular among girls—"

"You are super popular!" I blurted out, "People who chase you can line up to France from here!"

She tried to hold back her smile, but she didn't succeed. She was startled for a moment and then laughed again: "Is that what the saying goes?"

"Uh, it's a very beautiful actress..." I only feel that my tongue is fighting, and I don't know how to explain it clearly in a few words, and I said, "That means you are beautiful!"

The air suddenly became thin.

"That's fine."

Miss Pan De's eyelashes drooped. My face is so hot, can she feel it? Her cheeks were covered by hazy and unfamiliar heat, and her long eyelashes almost touched mine. Our noses were close to each other, and she rubbed me lightly, like a silent murmur, and a deadly temptation.

Miss Pan De's lips almost covered.