12. From Today On, Become Mr. Hawk! (Please keep reading!)

If one were to rank the most popular female students at Central City High School, Gwen might not top the list in sheer popularity, but she would undoubtedly secure the number one spot. In fact, she would likely hold a commanding lead, far ahead of the rest. Most of the silent majority at the school would probably cast their votes for Gwen, including Hawk.

He still remembered when he first enrolled, how, due to his reserved nature and tendency to keep to himself, Gwen had mistaken his solitude for social rejection and had tried to help him integrate into the student body. But that was simply because of Gwen’s kind heart. Hawk never read anything more into her concern; anyone else as beautiful and kind as Gwen would have extended the same help.

There’s a famous saying about life’s great illusions. Among them, “She likes me” stands as the unequivocal, unshakable number one. So, naturally, Hawk never entertained such illusions.

Soon, they arrived at the Queens District Court. Hawk gazed at the courthouse through the car window and thanked Gwen once again for accompanying him before stepping out. Then, hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to see Gwen also alighting and following him, a question forming in his mind.

“?”

“How are you planning to get back? Walking? This place is quite far from the airport.”

“The su–”

“The drivers’ union is on strike. Subway drivers are drivers, too.”

Hawk fell silent.

Gwen smiled gently and took the lead toward the courthouse. “Let’s hurry. It’s almost three o’clock. You wouldn’t want Judge Brose to cancel your hearing, would you?”

Hawk watched Gwen walk ahead, opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it, shook his head, and followed her.

Courtroom No. 3, Family Court.

Judge Brose tapped his gavel.

“Next case: Hawk Independence Hearing.”

“Your Honor.”

Hawk rose from his seat and courteously greeted the judge.

“Your Honor.”

The social worker from the Child and Family Welfare Agency responsible for Hawk also stood.

Judge Brose glanced over the documents Hawk submitted for his independence petition. After a moment, he looked at the social worker.

“I see he has never been adopted nor placed in foster care?”

The worker smiled wryly.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“May I ask why?”

“Hawk is unlike other children. He was quiet and unsociable from a young age. As a result, no one ever considered adopting him, which explains why he has remained in the adoption system all these years.”

“Hawk.”

Judge Brose nodded thoughtfully after hearing the worker’s explanation. Then he looked at Hawk, who did not outwardly appear as withdrawn as his records suggested.

“I understand your application states you wish to become independent because you want to rent your own place?”

Hawk nodded.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“May I ask how you plan to pay rent after becoming independent?”

“I have $30,000 saved in my bank account. If I rent a modest apartment, it should cover my rent until I find a job.”

“Thirty thousand?”

Judge Brose flipped through the bank statements Hawk had submitted alongside his petition, then reviewed additional documents, a trace of disbelief in his eyes.

No phone.

No computer.

No car, not even a driver’s license.

Judge Brose was somewhat surprised. While some orphans apply for early independence before turning eighteen, he had never seen anyone as frugal as Hawk, who eliminated all unnecessary expenses. Moreover, it was the first time he had encountered an orphan never adopted or placed in foster care with such a substantial sum saved.

Pondering this, Judge Brose regarded Hawk with a hint of admiration.

“You have remarkable self-discipline, Mr. Hawk.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

Hawk was stirred by the judge’s use of “Mr. Hawk,” a title reserved for independent adults.

As expected, Judge Brose smiled faintly, then stamped Hawk’s application and handed the documents to the bailiff.

“Under normal circumstances, I do not approve early independence, as the adult world is harsh. But you, Mr. Hawk, I believe are ready. Congratulations.”

Hawk accepted the stamped documents, looked at Judge Brose, and said simply, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The judge nodded with a smile, then struck his gavel again.

“Next case…”

Hawk left the courtroom with Gwen, the stamped papers in hand.

Outside the courthouse, Hawk smiled faintly at the document bearing the court’s seal. This official endorsement meant he was legally independent ahead of his eighteenth birthday, able to sign a lease with a landlord.

Finally, he could move out of that volatile makeshift hangar he’d called home for who knew how long.

This was wonderful.

Hawk’s spirits lifted as he headed toward the subway station.

The next moment, he was stopped.

He looked up at Gwen, who seemed mildly exasperated, and blinked, realizing the subway was out of service.

“Sorry.”

“Let’s go…”

Gwen shook her head, then suddenly remembered something, turning to Hawk with a smile.

“Mr. Hawk.”

Hawk raised an eyebrow at Gwen, who was walking toward a yellow Corolla parked nearby.

A traffic officer stood in front of the car.

“Just a moment, officer.”

Gwen hurried over, quickly pulling a card from her bag and handing it to the officer.

The officer paused, taking the card with a slight surprise. It wasn’t a business card but a family affiliation card distributed among New York police families. Its sole purpose was to prove you were one of their own.

The officer noted the name and number on the card: “19th Precinct: George Stacy,” then looked at Gwen, folded up his ticket machine, and handed the card back.

“Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

Gwen thanked him profusely.

The officer mounted his motorcycle and drove off.

Gwen let out a relieved breath, glancing at Hawk with a hint of gratitude.

“That was close!”

“…”