Page 23 of The Friend Zone Experiment

“I only remember my dad punishing my brothers once, when we were kids,” she said finally. “They were so naughty, you can’t imagine. But Dad would lecture them and let it go. Mom didn’t like him punishing them, she even objected to the lectures. They used to fight over it.

“But there was one time. My second brother used to tease me, say I was adopted, I didn’t belong to the family. One day he said there was this big secret about me, everybody knew except me. He made this big deal out of it, swore me to secrecy and everything. Finally he said, ‘You know why you’re so dark, when we’re all fair? Your real mother was a maid. She couldn’t look after you, so she left you here.’”

Ket Siong thought the golden-brown shade of Renee’s skin was pretty, but he would have died rather than say so. In any case, compliments weren’t what she needed just then. “Did you believe him?”

Renee looked up at him, her eyes huge. “Well, yeah. It made sense to me. I was just a kid. I got so stressed about it I told Auntie Francesca. She mentioned it to Dad, and he took my brother andwallopedhim. He’d never done anything like that before. I always remembered it.” She swallowed.

“I only found out why when I was a teenager,” she said. “It turned out my dad had an affair with a maid while Mom was pregnant with me. It was too late for her to have an abortion by the time she found out, or she would have done it.”

Ket Siong put down his spoon. “How do you know that?”

“Mom told me.” Renee wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “That’s why my parents fight all the time. Because of me. My brothers are jerks, but you can’t blame them, in a way. Everything was fine until I came along.”

Her voice broke. It made Ket Siong’s heart ache.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Maybe,” said Renee. “But Mom wishes she never had me. She told me that, too. I can’t forget it.”

She bowed her head, gulping. Ket Siong looked out of the window, though there was never much to see—the blind walls of the building next door and a blank sky above. Without ever having discussed it with Renee, he knew she hated anyone seeing her cry.

It was a while before Renee looked up again. There were tears on her lashes.

“I’ve never told anyone this before,” she said. “It’s a huge secret. Even my grandparents never knew.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” said Ket Siong unnecessarily.

He wanted to do something for her, so he said, “I’m going to make myself tea. Do you want some?”

Renee let him make her a mug of rooibos. She folded her hands around it, smiling a little.

“Yap Ket Siong.” She made the syllables sound sweet. “I can’t believe we only met a couple of months ago. You’re one of my best friends.”

Ket Siong stared, appalled.

The correct response would have been,You’re one of my best friends, too.If Ket Siong had been foolish enough to open his mouth, what he actually would have said was,I adore you.

He’d been silent for too long. Renee hunched over her mug.

“I don’t have that many friends,” she said, piqued. “So it’s not a big deal.”

“That’s not—” said Ket Siong.I like you, too,he was about to add. But there was no way he could saythatwithout Renee knowing what he really meant.

“I don’t have many friends, either,” he said feebly.

He would have known this was a bad idea if he hadn’t been reeling from what he’d just discovered about himself. It always fired Renee up when anyone suggested Ket Siong was unsociable, even if the suggestion was coming from Ket Siong himself.

“That’s not true,” she said. “What about Nathalie? Radost? Haresh?”

“OK, then, you have friends, too,” said Ket Siong. “Derek, Giuseppe, Yingji, Andrew…”

Renee gave him a look that said he was being disappointing. “Heis definitely not my friend.”

“No,” said Ket Siong. “I’m sorry.”

Renee pursed her lips. There was a grain of rice stuck to the side of her mouth. If Ket Siong were her boyfriend, he’d be allowed to brush it away. He curled his fingers into his palm.

“It’s OK.” Renee sighed. “I’ve made things weird now, right? I shouldn’t have talked about feelings. Boys hate that kind of thing.” She peered at him. “What do you all do with your feelings? I assume you have them. Do you just bottle them up?”