Chapter 2 — Seeds After the Rain

By Wednesday night, Gia Huy still hadn't decided whether to go to the Environmental Club meeting the next day or not. He opened the calendar on his phone, looked at the note he had typed out himself last week — "Environmental Club, 3:00 p.m., behind the gym" — then turned off the screen and lied down on the bed. Twenty hours of volunteering, he reminded himself, twenty hours was enough. If you include the first session, you only have three hours. There are still many sessions ahead, not necessarily this week.

But on Thursday morning, when the alarm bell rang, the first thing that appeared in his mind was not the second day's Math test, but the image of a small mango tree blooming in the corner of the garden, and Quynh Nhu's words still echoing somewhere: "Taking care of this garden is like keeping a part of your father." He shook his head, blaming himself for thinking nonsense, then got out of bed to prepare for school as usual.

Throughout the day, Dang Khoi invited him to play basketball after school as usual, but Gia Huy refused, saying he had to go to the club.

"Are you really going?" Dang Khoi raised his eyebrows, seemingly unconvinced. "I thought you were just stopping by for a routine visit."

"You still need volunteer hours," Gia Huy replied, trying to keep his voice calm. "The earlier you arrive, the sooner you'll have enough time, so you don't have to rush to the end of the semester."

"Yeah, it makes sense," Dang Khoi shrugged, not having any more doubts. "So, remember to show up for a friendly soccer match with class 12A3 tomorrow afternoon. The whole group is counting on you."

Gia Huy nodded, feeling relieved that Dang Khoi didn't ask anything more. He had never had to explain why he did what he did to his close friends — during the years of constantly changing schools, he learned that the less he explained, the easier it was to fit in, and the less scrutiny he received. But this time, for some reason, he felt a little uncomfortable having to lie, even if it was only a half lie.

In the afternoon, when he arrived at the garden, the first sight that caught his eye was not Quynh Nhu, but another girl, petite, with short hair, standing with her arms crossed in front of the homemade bamboo garden gate, looking at him with unsympathetic eyes.

"Are you Gia Huy?" the girl asked, her voice somewhat questioning.

"Yeah," he replied, a bit surprised to have been known before he even introduced himself.

"I'm Anh Duong, vice president of the club," the girl said, still not intending to give way. "Like I told you about you. Honestly, I was a little surprised to see you back."

"Why are you surprised?" Gia Huy asked, trying to keep his familiar friendly smile, even though he started to feel a little defensive inside.

"Because we used to have a few people like you," Anh Duong replied bluntly, her eyes never avoiding. "Come because you need to volunteer, sign for a few sessions and then disappear, or worse, stay just to take a few photos of 'virtual living' next to the vegetable beds and post a story showing off your 'green living', never actually doing anything. I've been hurt by those things many times before, so I don't want to see that happen again."

Gia Huy was silent for a moment, not expecting to be judged so harshly after just a few sentences. He was used to being welcomed anywhere, so the feeling of being suspected from the beginning made him both uncomfortable, curious, and a little respectful of that fierce protection.

"I have no intention of doing that," he said, his tone more serious than he expected. "The other day I also tilled the soil and watered the vegetables properly, you can ask Nhu."

"I know, Nhu told me," Anh Duong replied, her voice softening a bit but still not completely letting down her guard. "But one session doesn't say anything. I just want to tell you one thing in advance - Like the best person I've ever known, enthusiastic about everything he does, but because of that, he's very vulnerable. If you're just coming here for show, it's okay, just come, sign, do the work, then leave, I don't mind. But don't give him hope for things you don't intend to keep."

That sentence made Gia Huy pause. He never thought that his presence, even as a temporary member for practical purposes, could carry some weight for someone else. During the years of constantly moving, he had become accustomed to the fact that all relationships had an expiration date and were temporary, so he had never had to consider the feelings of the person who stayed after he left.

"I understand," he replied, his voice slower. "Thank you for speaking directly to me."

Anh Duong looked at him for a moment, as if reconsidering his initial assessment, then finally stepped aside, giving way to the garden. "Like in the back, near the pergola. There's an urgent matter today and I need someone to help."

Gia Huy stepped in and felt the familiar atmosphere of the garden - the smell of damp soil, the smell of leaves, the chirping sound of a few sparrows competing to perch on the flower trellis. Quynh Nhu was squatting next to a tomato bed, holding a small notebook, writing something down with a highly concentrated expression.

"You're here," she said, looking up at the sound of footsteps, her voice unable to hide a hint of surprise. "I thought you wouldn't come again this week."

"Why does everyone think that way?" Gia Huy replied, a bit confused. "I said it would be twenty o'clock."

"Well," Quynh Nhu shrugged, stood up and brushed her hands. "A lot of people say that but they don't keep their word. It's okay, I'm just glad you really came."

She led him to the spinach growing area, where a few other members of the club - two 11th grade girls that Gia Huy had never met - were busy picking weeds. She introduced herself over the loudspeaker, then assigned Gia Huy the job of checking the automatic irrigation system that Mr. Binh, the club's advisor, had installed last year but had recently shown signs of trouble.

"Just walk along the pipe, see if there are any leaks or blockages," she instructed, pointing toward the small plastic pipe that snaked between the vegetable beds. "If you see any place where the water is not flowing evenly, mark it with this ribbon, so we can look at it later."

That seemingly simple job turned out to take quite a bit of time, because the pipe stretched throughout the garden, weaving through every vegetable bed and every tree. Gia Huy checked as he walked, occasionally glancing at Anh Duong who was working nearby, still maintaining a cautious attitude every time their eyes met.

"He's not a bad person," Quynh Nhu said, suddenly appearing next to him as he bent down to check a bent pipe. "Anh Duong is just a bit overprotective, because she witnessed some bad things."

"I guess so," Gia Huy replied, standing up straight. "He already talked to me."

"Sorry if he was a bit harsh," Quynh Nhu said, a little guilty in her voice. "Last year, there was a group of friends who signed up for the club, made a lot of noise on social networks about 'living green', took hundreds of photos in the garden, but never touched a single vegetable patch, then left the club as soon as time was up. Anh Duong was so angry that he didn't talk to me for a whole week because I trusted them too easily."

"I'm not like that," Gia Huy said, his voice firm and surprising even to himself.

"I know," Quynh Nhu smiled slightly, her eyes looking at him were somewhat different from the first time, less scrutiny, replaced by something akin to trust. "Thanks for coming back."

Those two simple words somehow made Gia Huy's chest feel strangely warm, a feeling he had never experienced after any of the social thanks he usually received every day at school.

That afternoon, after completing the pipeline inspection and discovering three minor leaks, Gia Huy stayed behind to help Quynh Nhu and other members clean up the equipment. Anh Duong, although still not completely friendly, began to talk to him briefly, no longer keeping the distance like before.

On the way home, Gia Huy found himself whistling an aimless tune, something he rarely did after a long, tiring day. He wondered if it was because of the feeling of trust, even if just a little bit, from the two girls he had only known for less than two weeks, or because of something else that he didn't want to name yet.

That night, while doing homework, he received a text message from Dang Khoi asking about tomorrow's friendly soccer match, along with a casual question: "How's the tree planting club today, anything fun?"

Gia Huy looked at the screen for a long time, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He thought of the story about the group of friends who hurt Anh Duong and Quynh Nhu, of Quynh Nhu's trusting eyes when saying thank you, of the strange warm feeling that lingered in his heart all afternoon. In the end, he just typed back a short sentence: "It's normal, water the vegetables and till the soil." Then he turned off the phone screen, lay down on the bed, looked up at the ceiling, wondering why such a "normal" afternoon made his mind keep spinning endlessly.