Page 15

SharSpy10 [7:38PM]:Look what I cook for my family! [Sends a picture]

CuriousGeorge [7:42PM]:WUAH. So much good food! Your family so lucky to have you.

SharSpy10 [7:47PM]:Braised sea cucumber with pork bellyand shiitake mushrooms, chicken collagen soup with sliced abalone, fried bamboo shoots with pork trotters, and fried pork and shrimp balls. This one recipe from my grandma, she is from Hakka region of China. You ever try Hakka porkballs?

CuriousGeorge [7:48PM]:Those are favorite! My ah gong was from Hakka also. One day I shall like to try your recipe.

SharSpy10 [7:49PM]:I’ll save some for you! But better eat them fresh. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow?

CuriousGeorge [7:50PM]:Yes! Great idea.

SharSpy10 [7:51PM]:I can’t wait!

CuriousGeorge [7:51PM]:Me neither!

“Why the hell would you do this?” I yell at Mama. I shouldn’t yell, I know, the walls aren’t thin, but they’re not shout-proof and people will hear. Well, I say people but I am mostly referring to Auntie Janice, who at this very moment is probably pressing her ear against the damask-patterned wallpaper to try and catch every word. I can picture her so vividly I can even see the expression on her face as she does so, but still I can’t rein in my temper, because—

“Out of all the fucked-up things you’ve done, this tops it,Ma!”

“Enough!” Ma thunders back. We both know I got my temper from her. “Is been a week since we arrive here, have you gone out? NO. You just staying in your room, moping, ‘Oh, I’m so sad, oh no, poor me!’ The whole family is worried about you.”

The mention of family makes my stomach curdle like spoiled milk. If only Mama had taken me here as a child, back when I wanted to know everything there was to know about the place and my family. But now, all I feel when I think about them is thesharp tang of fear and resentment. All that stuff Kiki told me about them the day I arrived…about how they’d been gossiping about me and the only reason I’m here is that I got pregnant.

“I didn’t think you could do even worse than confiscating my phone the day we arrived,” I hiss.

I was sure it wouldn’t be long before Ma realized the error of her ways and gave me back my phone. Instead, this morning, she came rushing into my room all breathless and happy, saying she’s found me “the perfect boyfriend.”

“I don’t understand you, Sharlot,” Ma says, and suddenly all the fight leaves her. Her shoulders sag, and her face is lined with a mixture of sadness, worry, and disappointment—the look she gets when she sees me lately, that is. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“I don’t even—I—what? Why would I be happy about my mom trying to match-make me to some boy I don’t even know?”

“Because it shows that I care! It shows that you are loved. And you haven’t even seen this boy I find for you. He is perfect. Please, Sharlot, I just trying to help.”

Wow, Ma said “please.” To me. That’s kind of a momentous occasion. I know it’s kind of a stereotype, but none of the Chinese parents I know believe in saying things like “please” or “sorry” to their kids. Or maybe it’s just a Ma thing. Either way, I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve ever heard her say please to me. Her voice is so sincere, her expression so earnest, I find I can’t easily fire back a retort. Oh, FFS. I can’t believe I’m about to say this. I am definitely going to regret it. “Fine, let’s take a look.”

Ma squeals. An actual squeal like she’s some excited little kid. My heart twinges, and I wish I could overcome this gapingbarrier between us and give her a hug, but I’m still too mad. Anyway, I have no idea how she’d react to that. She’s never been one for physical affection. With some trepidation, I take my phone back. The familiar weight and feel of it back in my hand brings out a sigh of relief.Welcome home, sweet, sweet phone.

Then I look at this supposed “perfect boyfriend” she’s found me. Huh. He’s actually really cute. Good skin, strong jaw, broad shoulders—wow, I do not hate it.

Doesn’t matter, though,a small voice in my head pipes up.Check your messages! Has Bradley replied? What about Michie? They must think you’re dead!

But with Ma hovering next to me, I can’t quit the ShareItapp.

“This boy, out of the blue, he message you,” Mama says. “Is fate! Meant to be!”

I ignore her. I get messages all the time, mostly from creepy older men, but I choose not to tell her that. She’d freak out and then who knows what she’d do? Instead I open up the chat history with CuriousGeorge—god, what a dorky screen name. The first few messages are in Indonesian. My Indo is bad enough that I have to read them while pointing at the words with my index finger and mouthing them as I go, but fortunately, after that, they both switch to English. Unfortunately, CuriousGeorge’s English is just as broken as Mama’s.

CuriousGeorge [4:31PM]:When I grow up? I’m definitely joining my family business.

SharSpy10 [4:32PM]:What does your family do?

CuriousGeorge [4:33PM]:This and that. A bit of land development, a bit of tech, a bit of raw material production. Everything, really. I want to be their finance manager. I’m good at saving money.

SharSpy10 [4:34PM]:Wow. You are amazing, so intelligent.

Good-fucking-lord.Amazingandintelligentare definitely NOT the words I’d use to describe CuriousGeorge.Nerdycomes to mind withoverly privileged assholea close second. What the hell kind of seventeen-year-old boy wants to be a finance manager? What even is a finance manager? No seventeen-year-old boy in the world is good atsavingmoney. But of course, that’s not even the worst of it. No, the worst bit comes right after that.

CuriousGeorge [4:35PM]:Thanks. I believe that men should provide for their families.