[HP] Liar

(1)

From the first moment I met Viola Clearwater, I knew she was a queer girl like myself.

The first time I saw her was not at the orientation meeting for college freshmen, but in the living room of the school's quadruple dormitory.She was wearing a pair of old-fashioned black-rimmed glasses, tied her long golden-brown hair into a high ponytail, and was concentrating on studying the heavy calculus textbook on the dining table.

To be honest, I was a little intimidated by her serious appearance at the time.

Viola was my college roommate, like Emily and Emma.Emily is a pretty girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, who is wrapped in expensive famous tags all over her body, and she always likes to bring some strange male classmates to the dormitory to hold parties from time to time.She majored in business, and as soon as I saw her, I immediately remembered a sentence my cousin once said to me that impressed me—he said that most people who study business have abnormal brains.

In contrast, Emma, ​​who is also of Irish origin, is much more rigid and dull.She majored in computer science and mathematics, yes, this is a major that makes people feel cold when it sounds.

As for the people studying VA, in fact, just like the people studying Viola Clearwater's major, there are not so many people on the university campus.

"Visual Arts, I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree," I said.

"Wow." Emily exclaimed exaggeratedly, "This major sounds really cool."

Emma's evaluation was much harsher: "I think this is a major that will lose your job as soon as you graduate, Christine. Are you really not considering changing majors?"

Facing the ridicule of the two of them, I didn't open my mouth to refute anything.In fact, I'm already used to it.I've had heated debates with my family on this topic since I finished high school with my A-Levels and started applying to universities.That's right, the final result is of course that I won, otherwise I wouldn't be here at this moment.

"My major is psychology, and when I graduated, the school should have awarded me a bachelor's degree in humanities and social sciences." When it was Viola's turn, she explained in a particularly calm tone, "Actually, I even have plans to graduate Continue to study."

"You are studying psychology, so why did you read the calculus textbook just now?" Emily immediately asked curiously.

Who knows that Viola, a weird girl, actually told us: "That's not my major, but I took a calculus as an elective course."

The three of us: "..."

What kind of person would take calculus as an elective course!What a breed of freak this guy is!

It didn't take me a few days to realize that I wasn't in the same league as Emily and Emma.Emma spends almost eighteen hours a day studying, while Emily spends those hours on disco dates.In their comparison, even me, a weirdo who needs to carry a giant drawing board down the dormitory aisle every day, looks extremely normal.

And the beginning of my friendship with Viola happened to be the day I finished my first oil painting class.

That day, I was staggering and carefully dragging the wooden drawing board, which was half a head taller than my body, into the door of the dormitory, and Viola, who was sitting in the living room studying by herself, immediately ran over and extended a helping hand to me. "Do you need help?" Although she asked, she helped me put the drawing board in the corner safely.

"Thank you." I was a little embarrassed, so I had to bow my head to thank her.

But she tilted her head and glanced at my oil painting with a scrutinizing gaze.I couldn't help but "thump" in my heart, but I quickly realized that how could a good girl like her, who got a straight A in the high school graduation exam and chose to study humanities and social sciences in college, know how to appreciate high-level and low-level works of art ?

"Self-portrait?" Unexpectedly, in the next second, she pointed out the prototype of the painting, "Did you draw yourself?"

While I was surprised by her understanding of oil painting, I couldn't help but echoed hypocritically: "It's just the homework assigned by the professor. I just draw casually." After finishing speaking, a wonderful idea flashed in my mind. After a while, I lowered my voice and asked her again: "If you had to choose, would you choose Cézanne or Monet?"

Her pair of light green eyes without a trace of impurities looked at me deeply, and finally she couldn't help but said: "Of course it is Vincent van Gogh."

I was taken aback for a moment, and suddenly realized——I might be able to become a close friend with the girl in front of me.

"Do you like Van Gogh?" I asked again, "What about my favorite writer? Remind me, I hate Maugham the most."

"I like Van Gogh best among painters, and I don't like Maugham among writers, but I don't really hate him. But my sister likes him." She said, "Oh, she also likes Dostoevsky-she She is a typical literary girl who is full of feelings of worrying about the country and the people."

"Who is your favorite writer?"

"If you must, George Macdonald."

Immediately after hearing this, I rushed forward excitedly and held her hands. "I also like George MacDonald the most! Compared with those heavy literary works, I still prefer magnificent fairy tales."

"I also like Ryuichi Sakamoto," she added, "among composers."

"The violinist likes Hakase Taro the most." I stared at her knowingly and nodded, "To be honest, I didn't expect you to know Japanese artists."

She couldn't help laughing: "...Honey, I also know how to read Japanese comics."

(2)

Since then, Viola and I have become inseparable friends, naturally.We will go to school together, we will go to the cafeteria to eat together at a certain time, and we will go to the library to study together in our free time.After getting to know her, I couldn't help but have a question: Why did she choose psychology as her major in college?

When I asked her this question, she was struggling with the biology terminology in the textbook.I couldn't help being surprised: "Didn't you take biology as an elective in high school? Then what did you study in high school?"

She smiled embarrassingly, and replied in a low voice: "Hehe, anyway, it's something you can't learn in college."

I:"……"

Couldn't she really be the legendary mysterious student who barely got the admission letter by donating a teaching building to the school? !

After hearing my question, Viola twirled her long hair unnaturally: "How is it possible, what are you thinking? Do you think I look like that kind of upstart?"

Me: "..." Why does this answer seem to make her even more suspicious!

She also told me that afternoon: "My family actually didn't approve of me coming to this university to study at the beginning. They didn't agree until I got a perfect grade in the graduation exam of the previous school through my own efforts. Reluctantly agreed to my request. I used to not like reading at all, but when I was 17 years old, I suddenly found my future life goal, so I regretted it and started to make up for my previous learning. At that time, I wanted to go to work in the hospital after graduation, but I was told that due to my physical condition, I could not become a surgeon, so I wondered if I could Relying on the degree in psychology obtained at the university can help me find a job as a psychological counselor in the future."

I listened half-understood, nodded, and asked her again: "Then why did you give up painting? Because it's just like what Emma said—is there no way to eat it?"

She shrugged with a wry smile. “It’s not that,” she explained, “some unpleasant things happened to me in my teenage years… and after that, I realized that I was doomed to continue drawing. But I still I haven't given up on 'art', at least, on weekends, I often find time to go to art exhibitions with my boyfriend."

I have known for a long time that Viola has a boyfriend who has been together since high school, but I seldom hear her talk about him, so when she actively mentions the existence of her boyfriend , I still couldn't control the whimsical impulse in my heart.

I thought Viola was not like me.She is a storyteller.

Three years of college passed in the blink of an eye, and Emma and Emily moved out of the dormitory in their sophomore year, leaving only Viola and me in the quadruple apartment.The night before graduation, Viola and I made an exception and ordered a large order of fried chicken and several cans of beer.When we were all drunk, she suddenly asked me in a daze, "Christine, do you believe in magic in this world?"

I blinked puzzledly: "...magic?"

In all fairness, I did firmly believe in the existence of Santa Claus before I went to middle school, but after I was exposed to natural science in middle school classes, I realized how unreliable this legend is.But before I could answer her question, Viola shook her head as if mocking herself, and sighed in a low voice: "It's nothing, it's just my nonsense. Forget what I said."

(3)

Even though Viola has repeatedly emphasized that she is not very used to using mobile phones or landlines, we still exchanged home phone numbers and left addresses for each other to correspond with.After graduating, I got a job at a game company, where I happened to run into my former roommate, Emma Horsen, again.

As my new life settled down, I also wrote to my best friend from college, Viola Clearwater, but never heard back.

When I came to the home address that Viola gave me, I found that the villa I mentioned didn't actually exist at all.

For a moment, Viola Clearwater seemed to have evaporated.

I even started to wonder if the happy time I spent with Viola in college...was it all just my imagination?

A few years later, Emily got married and divorced, Emma became a corporate executive (a remarkable achievement for a single woman at the time), and I was born. Laid off my second daughter Vivi.

Yes, my youngest daughter is actually named after my best friend Viola from my school days.

Just when I thought Viola had gradually faded from my memory, I received a mysterious letter on a certain autumn afternoon.

The signature on the envelope is - ViolaAnneClearwater.

There was no letter paper in the envelope, but a brand new photo.It was an extraordinary photo, different from ordinary photos with only still images. That photo was like a small projector, which could play the same image hundreds of times, thousands of times. A short but beautiful picture.

In the picture, Viola wears a high bun, wearing a white taffeta wedding dress, holding a large bouquet of tender and delicate flowers in both hands; She showed a big mouthful of white teeth in a very unladylike manner.And the handsome man with short light blonde hair and an arrogant expression standing beside her is undoubtedly her new husband.

The moment I saw the photo, I thought I had subconsciously changed something I had acquiesced to be true.

If she can still appear in front of me, ask me in person: "Do you still believe in magic?"

I will tell her with the firmest tone: "Yes. Yes, I believe that somewhere in this world that I don't know, there must be something that you call 'magic'."

And you, Viola, you are the most incredible 'magic' that appeared in my life.