"Merry Christmas! Assistant Coach Lovett"
Merry Christmas, Mr. Hagen.
Lovett, carrying two cardboard boxes stacked one on top of the other and one large, greeted the school security guard who was walking towards him somewhat listlessly.
It's Christmas break now, and Stanford University has already suspended classes and is on holiday.
"Do you need any help, Lovett?"
"No need, Mr. Hagen, you can continue your patrol."
"I just finished my patrol. I thought you were going to decorate the Christmas tree in front of the planetarium, right?"
Seeing how enthusiastic the security guard was, Lovett couldn't refuse any longer; it would be good to have more people to help.
"Alright then, Mr. Hagen, thank you."
The security guard tucked the walkie-talkie into the shoulder slot and went over to help Lovett carry one of the cardboard boxes.
Inside, there was a jumble of decorative items.
The campus was deserted, and an unfinished Christmas tree stood in the planetarium square, a pine tree that Lovett had brought in from outside yesterday.
The two worked together to move the Christmas tree, along with its base, into the planetarium, and then found a tripod to begin decorating it.
"Assistant Professor Lovett, if I may ask, are you really interested in the vice principal?"
The security guard, Hagen, asked a question in a gossipy manner.
Lovett was completely taken aback when he heard this. Mr. Hagen had already asked very tactfully; if it were someone else, they would have blurted out, "Hey, Lovett, I heard you molested a middle-aged fat woman?"
Lovett has been harassed lately, but he can't explain himself.
“Mr. Hagen, I’m still young, I’m not even 30 yet. Although I don’t have a girlfriend, my aesthetic sense isn’t distorted!”
Lovett's tone was a mix of anger and helplessness.
“Assistant Coach Lovett, you’ve misunderstood. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. I also thought that kind of thing was unlikely.”
Lovett noticed that the security guard Hagen said "originally," so has his opinion changed now?
"But I heard that the vice principal also received your love letter."
The security guard then said the rest.
"Damn it! How could I possibly write such rubbish! A simple comparison will show it's fake!"
Lovett was already furious. Someone was definitely trying to frame him. No matter how out of his mind he was, he would never write a love letter to the vice principal.
Hagen chuckled and gestured with his hands to signal Lovett to calm down.
Insert a crystal star into the tip of the Christmas tree.
A beautiful Christmas tree is now decorated.
“Assistant Professor Lovett, here’s the key: the letter the vice principal received, after handwriting comparison, it really was written by you. I saw the computer comparison results with my own eyes.”
What?
Lovett was dumbfounded. Did he really write that?
"Wait! Mr. Hagen, when did this happen, and how do you know?"
Lovett realized that even he, as one of the parties involved, was unaware of the matter, yet this security guard seemed to know so much about it, and there hadn't been any rumors circulating within the school.
Otherwise, Lovett would have become famous on Stanford forums and Twitter long ago.
It couldn't possibly be that the fermentation was delayed because of Christmas, could it?
"This...uh...this, Assistant Professor Lovett, about how I know..."
The security guard awkwardly pulled a pink letter from his pocket.
The inscription on it reads "To Lovett".
"Haha, this, Assistant Teaching Assistant Lovett, is something Vice Principal Kim Flan asked me to give to you..."
Lovett stared blankly at the letter still in the hands of security guard Hagen. Kimfran was the real name of the 300-pound vice principal.
The pink suit features two hand-painted red hearts connected by an arrow.
Oh My God! ! ! !
My God, what on earth is going on?!
"Ahem... Assistant Professor Lovett, Vice Principal Kim Fland said she received love letters for three days in a row, and that you are very talented."
"Um, Principal Fabrice doesn't know about this. Assistant Professor Lovett, could you please take the letter...?"
Security guard Hagen also felt that the letter in his hand was burning hot.
Lovett mechanically reached for the letter, feeling an electric shock the moment he touched the envelope.
A sense of sorrow welled up inside me.
Ignoring Hagen's presence, Lovett shakily opened the letter.
The content is like a young girl's response to her lover.
To be honest, Kim Flan's writing is outstanding. Every sentence shows his appreciation for Lockhart, and he can also subtly express his feelings for her, while apologizing for the consequences of the planetarium incident.
The ending encourages Lovett to pursue "true love," suggesting that no obstacle is insurmountable in the face of love.
Lovett turned ashen-faced after reading the letter.
"Mr. Hagen...you won't tell anyone, will you?"
As security guard Hagen listened to Lovett's hollow voice, he felt a pang of sadness for some reason.
"No, I promise, Lovett. I had something on Kimfran before..."
"No, I need to see those so-called 'love letters I wrote'! This is absurd! Someone is definitely framing me!"
Hagen patted Lovett on the shoulder.
“Assistant Coach Lovett, I took the photos. I think you’ll see them when you see them.”
Hagen took out his smartphone and opened an encrypted photo album.
Inside are photos of three completed handwritten love letters.
Lovett stared at the letter on the screen in disbelief. He recognized his own handwriting at first glance; even the marks left by his habitual little hand gestures were the same.
If even I can "confirm" that there's nothing wrong with the handwriting, then what about others?
The contents of the letter made him want to vomit blood.
That poetic and lyrical expression of love, that nauseatingly sentimental expression of affection, that sincere and unrestrained outpouring of genuine emotion.
Holy crap! It's called Golden Fleur Honey Cookies...
Lovett could only feel goosebumps rising all over his body.
Is this the thing that made that fat woman, Kim Furlan, fall for it? And now she's convinced of her identity?
Lovett thought he was probably dreaming.
With a "snap".
The pain from the slap on his left cheek shattered his illusions.
“Uh, Mr. Lovett, I’ve delivered the letter. You can decide what to do with it yourself. I think I should go patrol the campus again.”
After saying that, security guard Hagen hurriedly left the planetarium.
Lovett watched the security guard Hagen walk away, and several times he wanted to call out to him, but in the end he said nothing.
He suddenly slumped to the ground in despair.
This Christmas brought him a big "surprise".
Lovett stared blankly at the telescope in the museum with a long face.
So the question is, what should he do?
In the shadows, Saraso rested her chin on her hand, looking at Lovett who seemed to have a terminal illness, and expressed considerable satisfaction with her lyrical writing skills.
Hehehe, this kid probably can't stay at Stanford anymore, and he doesn't dare to stay there.
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