3.7 Messy cute
“Hey Yitian, you don't look quite yourself. Everything alright?”刚出门，就碰到隔壁掏钥匙开门的尹伯文。
“No, I don't think so.”程弈田努力忍住眼中的泪水，摇摇头。
“You wanna drink some？”尹伯文伸手扶住弈田的肩，弯下腰，想要看清楚低着头的弈田的表情。“Come on, come on in. Go get yourself stuffed; I guess you haven't had anything this evening yet.”说着接下程弈田的背包，拍拍他的肩请她进门。
“I just sent Maggie out to her apartment. She had some ruby crusty pie. She refused to try the stewed chestnut and pheasant - she said the pheasant’s eyes were staring at her, and she was really uncomfortable about it. It actually tastes well though, I had some, it's all yours now, let me know how can make this dish better！”尹伯文试着谈一些他猜程弈田喜欢的话题。见弈田还是呆坐着，尹伯文拿起餐桌一边原先就铺好丝毫没动的刀叉给弈田：“Hmm~, smell it. You can imagine you are in the woods.”尹伯文叉了一块野鸡胸脯肉在弈田鼻子前晃了晃，“hmm~, taste it. It's soft, flavorful and melting in your mouth!”尹伯文猫着腰，张大嘴，装作要把那鸡块放进嘴里嚼。见弈田似乎有点要破涕为笑的样子，他索性一屁股坐在地上，把叉子塞给弈田，然后装哭，“Mummy, mummy, the pretty little girl stole my pheasant, and she is going to steal my chestnuts too. Mummy, mummy, help!”
“讨厌！”程弈田一口吞掉那鸡块，转向餐桌，拿起叉子就着盛栗子鸡的白瓷大碗开始大快朵颐起来。
“啊呀呀，Look at you, it's all yours, slowly.”坐在一边的尹伯文汲了口红酒，“Hey, you don't have good table manner, do you?”好似一个说学逗唱的滑稽戏演员，尹伯文低下头，像是要往桌上吐骨头的样子，“Don't you do the same thing like other Chinese, spit out the bone on the table?”
“谁像你啊，那么没水准。”生气的时候，程弈田也忘了跟这个国际友人说英语。“你的野鸡炖得骨头都酥了，还用吐吗?”望着尹伯文困惑的样子，弈田摇摇头：“真笨，有个中国妈还听不懂中国话！Well, I was saying the pheasant was perfect and the bones were so soft, and I swallowed it all!”
“笨，你笨！”懂，还是不懂，程弈田犯难了，他好像是个复杂电路上的二极管灯，弈田不知道什么样的输入会让这个灯亮，还是灭。
失恋的女人的胃是个无底洞。一会儿功夫，那大半碗鸡块就灰飞烟灭了，这会儿，程弈田已经转而进攻红芹菜饼。看程弈田心情开始有点平复，尹伯文问“So, what happened? I thought Tao was extremely nice to you！”
“You are gossipy!”一张嘴，一片红芹菜从弈田满是酥酥的油饼沫的嘴里掉出来，
“You are so messy! I wouldn't be able to tell that!”一伯文连忙捡起掉在地毯上的红芹菜，捏在手里，嘴里发出啧啧的声音。“You look cute.”尹伯文忍不住冒出一句。
“You actually mean I look miserable.”
“No, I mean cute cute, not miserable cute.”
程弈田摆摆手，眼眶里的泪水都随鸡块菜饼下了肚，原本那个活泼有点小坏的程弈田在食物的boost下，又恢复了神气：“Yeah, I look messy cute!”说完，拿来最后一块饼，趁他不注意塞进尹伯文嘴里，“You look messy messy！”这突如其来的袭击，尹伯文欣然接受，张开嘴，“I look messy hungry!”
尹伯文抹了抹刚咽下那块饼的嘴巴，眼神认真起来，“Ok, yitian, I want all my friends to be happy. Tell me, what happened? Is there anything that I can help too?“
“It's about dream and reality.”原本望着尹伯文的程弈田盯着手中的那个已经被她用吸管搅得分不清颜色辩不明味道的drink of the day，说：“I want to graduate with a Master’s Degree and move to California and start working, but he wants to go back to China right after his PhD .”
“That was it? I thought it was about Maggie. I know her; she is just a drama queen. You don't have to take her seriously.”确定了不是因为另一个女生；或者是其他更基本的要求，比如像他的前女友，一而再，再而三地催他去赚钱，如果去不了华尔街去个Mckinsey或者BCG什么的都可以赚个每小时500块钱，尹伯文反而觉得事情好办了：“This is not a fundamental difference between you two, you and Tao can continue talking about it and get through. I am sure you can reach an agreement and live happily ever after soon.”
程弈田能够感觉到眼前这个男生简单善良的内心，可是他不了解奚涛，也不了解弈田。程弈田一再追问奚涛对自己的爱有多少，可是就在刚才奚涛无情地跟弈田说明原委的一瞬间，她也开始怀疑自己对奚涛的了解和对他的爱。
刚才尹伯文做滑稽戏逗自己破涕为笑的场景，程弈田一遍又一遍地在这7年的记忆里搜寻，没有，一点也没有！奚涛虽然总不自觉地左右着程弈田的喜怒哀乐，但是弈田竟回想不起哪怕一次奚涛为了弈田做个笨笨的动作，逗她笑；即便是一个鬼脸都没有！奚涛，小溪里没有波涛，他注定是波澜不惊的。程弈田，习惯了在平静如水的生活里观看自导自演的小心动，现在连这种平静也渐行渐远。程弈田累了，累得忘了是为什么喜欢他。
16岁到23岁，也是7年的时间。高三的春天，程弈田收到清华录取通知书的同时，爸爸也递给她一个已经开封的贺年卡，笑着说，这小子没什么出息啊，名字都不敢署。教导主任爸爸应该已经对了笔迹。程弈田开心地亲亲爸爸，奖励这个还算开明的老子，“嘘，千万不能让妈妈知道。”曾经，双双远渡重洋，程弈田无限憧憬着相濡以沫的生活；终究，他们的关系也都没有比收到贺年卡有更实质性的进步。7年，这7年算什么？肌肤相亲的爱情还没有开始，就真的已经升华成了亲情？或者，连亲情也没有。
程弈田不得不思考自己内心真正所求。这个思考的过程也许会像3年前决定是否去日本一样短暂，抑或，会像没有GPS开车在一弯连着一弯的山路上走，不知道什么时候是个头，什么时候能够走出这层峦叠嶂。
尹伯文看时间不早了，开始围着餐桌收拾起来。注意到他忙碌地进出厨房，程弈田有些不好意思，连忙要求来帮忙。“It's ok, you are the guest, it's my pleasure that you are here.”尹伯文很自然地推辞了，让她好好休息，人不愉快的时候身体自然也不会舒服。程弈田没有推辞，在沙发上坐下来，发着呆。
尹伯文忽然想起了什么，收起洗碗时戴的橡胶手套，从冰箱取来一盘切成块状泥土颜色的东西。“Try this, I even forgot to introduce this to you.”看程弈田要发问，尹伯文又咧开了嘴，“No, no, I won't tell you what this is, you tell me!”他又走向靠在窗边的电脑桌，“Let me play you some music, while you are enjoying this delicacy, I am doing the dishes. ”望着屏幕，他似乎在自然自语，又似乎在问程弈田“Shoot, I did not know I lost most of my albums, stupid crash. ”蹲下在抽屉里翻了一下，“Good, I still have this CD! Michael learns to rock, you like it? I can't believe I still have this one, it's so old .”看见程弈田在点头，尹伯文满意的将CD放进player,“I like paint my love”一个“enjoy”之后，尹伯文又戴上手套拐进厨房。
“From my youngest years,”随着平缓得跟Michael learns to rock的乐队名字非常不相称的歌词，程弈田的眼睛模糊了，她不敢眨眼睛，不想让那些不争气的咸水滴滚下弄脏了人家的沙发。用纸巾吸干眼角的泪，捡了一块那黑黄黑黄的东西放进嘴，程弈田试着躺下放松，想暂时把涌进脑海里关于7年的青春的疑问放一放。
尹伯文的墙非常干净，没有任何挂图，任何修饰，一概雪白，唯一略显不同的是程弈田躺着的这个双人沙发。布制的沙发套上是一片片新英格兰野外随处可见的兰花草。早春时候，这种兰花草会抽出穗，很快，一串串白色的铃铛会出现在穗的周围。程弈田头下枕着的靠枕套上印着放大了的兰铃，靠枕散落在哪里，那花儿就开在了那里。清晨的雾霭中，羞涩的兰铃会娇滴滴地沐浴着露水；一阵风吹过，仔细听，那是露珠伴随着白铃的摆动缤纷落下的声音。
