After his brief meeting with Greg Porter, Adam took some time to rediscover the campus grounds. Walking across the open field, he surveyed his surroundings, realizing how much he had missed the place.
Finding a wooden bench, he sat down, relishing the solitude. The wind whispered across the field, rustling through the trees. No press, no meetings, no deadlines - just him. He cherished the moment.
As he embraced the solitude, the sound of approaching footsteps drew Adam's attention. Another student, struggling to maintain her balance under a stack of books, stumbled on the soft grass, scattering her belongings. Adam rushed to her aid.
"Are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet. The student sighed, collecting her scattered books. Adam joined her, assisting in gathering her belongings.
Reaching for a familiar book lying open on the ground, Adam noticed the spine and felt a tug of memory from twenty-one years ago.
"Is this your favorite book?" he inquired. The student, recognizing him as the famous painter, Adam Ocampo, expressed surprise and embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry for causing you trouble. I'm in a hurry for my literature class," she stammered. Her eyes fell on the book in Adam's hand. "Yes, that's my favorite. I love reading Pablo Neruda's poems."
Adam smiled. "I read this book when I was studying here. It's the reason I always return to the library." He showed her his name and date on the borrower's card tucked inside.
"That's amazing," the girl marveled. "No one else seems to appreciate it. You're the only other person I know who loves it too."
"What's your name?" Adam asked.
"I'm Keira," she replied, glancing towards her class. "I have to go now. Can I have my book back?"
Adam hesitated for a moment. "Of course," he said, returning the book.
"Thank you. I hope my professor approves my proposal for a literary analysis of Sonnet XVII," Keira said.
Adam's curiosity grew. "That's my favorite poem," he revealed. "One of my latest paintings was inspired by it."
Keira was amazed. "I haven't seen your recent paintings. Will they be displayed at the Alumni Awards tomorrow?"
"I hadn't considered it, but I will now," Adam replied with a smile. "Good luck with your project. I'm sure your professor will approve."
"Thanks," Keira said, smiling. "I'll look forward to seeing your painting tomorrow. Thanks again for your help, Mr. Ocampo."
"You're welcome. See you then," Adam replied as Keira hurried off to the Arts building.
Sitting back on the bench, Adam sighed deeply. Flashbacks flooded his mind, transporting him back twenty-one years. He pulled out his phone and called his agent.
"Amara, I changed my mind. Send it to the university for the Alumni Awards tomorrow."
YOU ARE READING
I Love A Girl Named Tree
General FictionAdam Ocampo is a premier world-class painter who went back to his hometown in search of a perfect place for his art and a home for his heart. His search for Teresa Milan draws him closer to long-lost memories, past grievances, and the closure of for...
