It started with the exquisite looking letter A. Then around it, with every fifth period on a Monday, a pencilled rose bloomed. 

Slowly, the graffiti on the wall evolved.

Though sketched at her favourite corner, Az never thought the 'A' has anything to do with her.

So she hunched over notes, one class after another, focused on the lecturer.

A dozen roses after, the graffiti grew larger. Whoever started it had a penchant for nature. Thorns and leaves appear, and soon puffs of clouds loomed over. It was truly becoming a respectable art installation.

Then one day Az came late to class. She missed her regular spot next to the wall. Another student sat there, and a friend noticed something:

"You know Az, I could only see the whole pencil graffiti when you're sitting there. That boy who got to your favourite seat just now was too tall, I couldn't see the circle of roses."

"Notice the way the clouds were drawn? They seemed to float around Az. They framed her head nicely, especially when you hunch over her notes," another classmate chipped in.

Az the studious simply grinned bashfully. She had secretly admired the art, and sometimes imagined herself turning into a caricature blending into it, but her friends need not know that.

Classes went on as the semester progressed, and the graffiti grew even larger. A bird has entered the picture, on its left foot tied with a piece of paper.

The sketch framed Az's sitting profile perfectly that her friends began to seed more weird ideas into her head.

"I think one of our English 111 classmates is in love with Az," said her friend who had discreetly took a photo of Az, sitting, hunched at her desk, against the wall with the graffiti.

"The bird with the note is flying at Az's eye level. Bet he's confessing soon," another one said.

Az tried not to entertain her friends' theories. But being so close to the wall, she noticed small letterings on the picture, specifically on the paper tied to the bird's feet. But she dare not crane her neck for proper look.

"Good job, Az. You're the only one to score an A for this technique of research writing. Perhaps, you'd be able to tutor a mate who had just scored a D? He's the only one in this class failing," the lecturer said one day, after making her wait till everyone has left the room.

She agreed.

"Stay after the next class, please," requested her lecturer.

Az was introduced to Fai at the end of the next class. As the class would remain empty for the rest of the day, Az started tutoring immediately. The guy was shy, he couldn't articulate his thoughts well.

"I... I'm not sure how, where to start."

"Maybe start with why the research is important?" she suggested.

They worked on a couple of topics.

"Your ideas are more pronounced now. Maybe if you reiterate your three main points as conclusion, you'll bag some marks," she remarked. They collaborated for a couple more assignments before the mid-sem test.

"B+, Mr Fai. Well done," said the lecturer 3 weeks later. 

By then the graffiti on the wall had filled nearly the whole wall, save for a spot that resembles a silhouette of a sitting girl. That spot, obvious to everyone now, had been reserved for the girl who had played tutor.

"Congrats, Fai. How do you feel? Confident enough for final test?" Az checked after class.

"I feel like... I like A... I'd like an A," he answered, as usual his thoughts jumbling.

"You'll get an A, I'm sure of it," she said. They parted after another round of tutoring.

"A-, you certainly surprised me, Mr Fai," announced the lecturer right at the end of the semester.

Fai was elated. He was a maths guy, words had always failed him. Till now.

"A+, not surprising, Ms Az. But maybe the semester still holds a few surprises for you." The lecturer said this with a special smile on his face.

After their last class ended, the English lecturer called Az and Fai as the others trickled out.

"Ms A, please assist Mr Fai one last time. Here's some brushes and white paint. Mr Fai, it's time you clean that wall," he instructed the two students.

"You're the graffiti artist?" Az turned to ask Fai.

Fai was still gaping at the lecturer with his mouth open.

"Sir, how did you know it was me?" he asked.

The lecturer laughed. "Recognised your writing at the pigeon's foot. Time to chase that one last A before you graduate."

The lecturer gathered his books.

"But sir, how come I have to paint too?" Az stopped him.

"The wall art is addressed to you. I thought you knew," answered the lecturer before leaving, throwing a slight bow to Fai as if saying, You're on your own now.

The two students stared at one another.

"Why did you draw... this?" questioned Az, pointing to the wall.

Outed unceremoniously, he beckoned and guided her to the wall.

"I wanted to send you a note, but you hardly notice. You know me. I'm bad with words." He gestured for her to sit.

"A, your name. The roses for everytime I see you doing something nice to someone. You probably don't remember but a year ago on our first day here at this college, you talked to me during orientation when no one else did," he recalled.

Az remembered. "Yes. We talked about Sarawak."

He beamed. "You remembered! But after that we didn't get the chance to talk again. Our time here is ending. We'd be going to different universities. I was desperate to get you to notice me."

"Why didn't you just say hi?"

"I thought a simple 'hi' would not suffice."

"So this ... grand gesture, what did you set out to achieve?" she asked.

"I thought if I couldn't talk to you before the semester ends, maybe I'd be brave enough to do it when we bump later. I'd say, 'It's me, Fai, from English111, big graffiti class?' and hopefully you'd remember."

"It is a good ice-breaker. I love your artwork," she mused after a pause. She pointed another empty spot on the wall, which looked like one could draw a man standing before the hunched silhouette of the girl. "Is this your spot, then?" 

He nodded.

"What would you say if you were to stand right there?" Az queried, and she sat at her favourite seat. 

Fai promptly took his place. He stood right before Az as he dug something from his wallet. "I couldn't find a pigeon, so I reserved that spot for me, had I enough courage to ... give you this."

It was a letter written on a piece of small paper. 

Dear Az,

You're the kindest girl I've ever encountered. Let's be friends forever. Maybe more, should you find that sweeter. 

 Fai

She laughed. "Who said you're bad with words? This is lovely! Nevermind that it wasn't a pigeon post delivery," she gushed.

"So... We're friends?" he ventured.

"Of course. I can't be your tutor forever."

"How about that 'something sweeter' I mentioned in the letter?"

She tilted her head to one side."Let's work on an ending we'd both feel sweet about, OK?" she suggested.

"Sweet," he replied.

They took selfies with the graffiti. 

Then achingly, they painted the wall.

The graffiti vanished, saved for the tiny letter A, a deliberate miss.

Guess why I wrote this excuse of undefined literature? Did I receive a homing pigeon letter? I had a bad day, that's for sure.Home and work, none azure.  

4:06 PM · Sep 5, 2019