Chapter 14 — Seeds After the Rain

One week after the presentation to the school board, Mr. Binh brought news that made the whole group both happy and worried. "The school board has agreed to reconsider the replacement land," the teacher announced during the club meeting, "but they want to have more convincing evidence before making a final decision at the school board meeting. Specifically, they proposed that the club organize an 'Open Garden Day', inviting parents, alumni, and ward representatives to visit in person, to have a more objective view of the true value of the project."

"Open Garden Festival?" Anh Duong repeated, a bit confused. "Does that mean I have to organize an entire event?"

"That's right," Mr. Binh nodded. "This is both an opportunity and a challenge. If the organization is successful, attracts a large number of participants and receives positive feedback, it will be the strongest evidence that this garden is valuable to the whole community, not just the club. But if the event is not successful, I am afraid that the opportunity to change the decision will be even narrower."

The group immediately began planning the event, which was scheduled to take place on a Sunday in mid-December, just three weeks before the school board meeting decided. This will be the largest event the club has ever organized — including not only a tour of the garden, but also small booths introducing the organic growing process, an area for children to experience planting seeds, and a short presentation about the project's two-year journey.

"I need a lot of people to participate in supporting the organization, not just my club," Quynh Nhu said, her eyes showing concern at the huge amount of work ahead. "With just more than ten club members, how can we prepare and operate such a large-scale event in three weeks?"

Gia Huy thought for a moment, then an idea flashed in his head. "Let me try to mobilize more people from other classes," he said. "I know quite a few friends in many different clubs - the Art Club can help with decorations, the Music Club can perform light entertainment to create an atmosphere, and the school's volunteer team with experience organizing events can provide logistical support."

"Do you really think they'll agree to help?" Anh Duong asked, a bit skeptical.

"Just let me try," Gia Huy replied, confidently. And true to his promise, throughout the following week, he spent most of his free time meeting and persuading other clubs, class representatives, and even the school union staff to participate in supporting the event. The communication skills and wide acquaintances that he had built over the past months thanks to his sociable personality were now clearly effective - within just one week, the number of people registered to support the event had reached nearly fifty people, a number that far exceeded initial expectations.

On Thursday afternoon, when the whole group met to update the progress of preparations, Quynh Nhu could not hide her surprise and appreciation at what Gia Huy had accomplished. “I really didn't think we could mobilize that many people,” she said, her eyes shining with hope. "Thank you very much."

"Don't thank me yet, there's still a lot of work to do," Gia Huy smiled, although inside he felt equally proud. "But I believe we can do it."

In the days that followed, the whole group spent almost all their free time preparing for the event - from designing promotional posters, preparing experience booths, to contacting ward representatives and a few alumni who had participated in the project from the early days. Gia Huy and Quynh Nhu, as main coordinators, often had to work together until late at night, solving a series of problems that arose — from the lack of tables and chairs, to the weather forecast that it might rain on the day of the event.

One evening, when the two sat late in the living room to complete the program script, Quynh Nhu suddenly yawned, her eyes narrowed because of fatigue after many days of continuous work.

"You should go home and rest early," Gia Huy said, his voice full of concern. "You look very tired."

"There are still a few places in the script that are not complete," Quynh Nhu replied, trying to concentrate but her voice was somewhat exhausted. "I want to finish it before I go home."

"I can continue tomorrow," he said, gently taking the pen from her hand. "Health is more important. If you get sick before the event, it's much more dangerous."

Quynh Nhu looked at him, a bit surprised by that thoughtful concern, then smiled slightly and nodded in agreement. “Thank you,” she said, her voice gentle. "You've been taking such good care of everyone lately."

"Just don't want to see you exhausted," Gia Huy replied, then realizing that his words sounded more intimate than intended, he felt a bit awkward and quickly turned away to pack his things to hide his embarrassment.

On the way to see Quynh Nhu out of the school gate, the two walked side by side in comfortable silence, the pale yellow streetlight casting long shadows of the two people on the deserted street. "Are you scared?" Quynh Nhu suddenly asked. "Afraid what if the event doesn't succeed?"

Gia Huy thought for a moment before answering. "Yes, but I think, no matter the outcome, at least we tried our best. I'd rather try and maybe fail, than not try at all and keep wondering 'what if'."

Quynh Nhu looked at him, her eyes sparkling under the streetlights, an expression that Gia Huy had never seen in her before - both admiration and something a little warmer than normal friendship. "You've changed a lot, you know," she said softly. "Compared to the first day you come to the garden, just hoping to get enough volunteer hours and then leave."

"It's all thanks to you," Gia Huy replied, his voice rare and sincere, his eyes looking straight at her. The two stood there for a moment, the distance between them seemed to naturally narrow, the surrounding air seemed to stagnate in that moment, until the sound of a car horn echoed from the main road, bringing them both back to reality.

"Okay, it's late, I'm going home," Quynh Nhu said, a bit hastily, her cheeks pink under the streetlight. "See you tomorrow."

"Yes, be careful back," Gia Huy replied, standing and watching her figure disappear behind the corner of the street, his heart still fluttering from the moment just now, a moment in which they both felt something growing between them, even though no one had the courage to name it out loud.

On the bike ride home, Gia Huy couldn't stop thinking about Quynh Nhu's eyes under the streetlights, about the short distance between the two when they stood together. He wondered if she felt the same thing as him, or if it was just his own imagination after a tiring day at work. He had never experienced this feeling of nervousness mixed with happiness with anyone before—not the familiar confidence of knowing he was loved, but a sweet insecurity, an uncertainty about the other person's feelings, a state that was completely new to him.

That night, while preparing to go to bed, he received a text message from Quynh Nhu: "Thank you for sending me home. Also, thank you for everything you've done for the upcoming event. I'm really lucky to have you accompany me in this." Gia Huy read and reread that message several times, feeling a warmth spread throughout his body. He typed out a few answer options, deleted them again and again, and finally just sent a simple but sincere sentence: "I'm the lucky one to be a part of this. Good night, see you tomorrow."

In the following days, preparations for the Open Garden Festival became more and more urgent. Gia Huy took on the additional task of contacting a few people he knew through his parents who worked in the construction industry, asking to sponsor some materials to make signs and temporary roofs for the booths. He also took advantage of his relationship with several famous alumni on the school's social networks, asking them to share event information to spread it more widely to parents and the surrounding community.

Every evening, after completing his work, he texted Quynh Nhu to update his progress, sometimes it was just a few short lines, sometimes it extended into conversations about all sorts of trivial things during the day. He realized he started looking forward to those messages every night, looking forward to hearing Quynh Nhu talk about a newly sprouted vegetable plant, about an idea for decorating the stall that he had just thought of, or sometimes simply a simple question asking if he had had dinner yet. Those small, simple things brought him a closer and warmer feeling than any relationship he had ever had before, making him more and more certain of the feelings growing inside him, even though he still did not dare to admit it clearly, even to himself.