CHAPTER 1
T he cable car squeals to a stop, and I hurry up its steps to an outdoor seat facing the city, just as someone calls my name.
“Mei Li!” Chef Marco rushes up to the car and smiles, out of breath from running. “I just wanted to let you know…” He takes a quick breath. “You’re going places. It has been a pleasure having you in my class.”
My heart trips over itself and I manage a “thank you” as the car rocks forward. He waves and turns back toward the sidewalk. So much of my life has been dictated by others, but not this one thing. Mama and Baba don’t even know I’ve been taking cooking classes, and I’ll never tell them. I did it on my own. It’s probably the last thing I’ll be able to do on my own. No culinary school will accept me if they find out who I am. Or who I’m not.
But Nick told me he’s sure I’ll get an internship. Only eight more weeks and I could be in L.A. meeting famous chefs. Eight more weeks and my life will finally begin. Thanks to Nick. The more miracles he works in my life, the more I see us working. Someday. Eventually .
I settle into the corner of the bench and pull the elastic from my ponytail so my hair falls down my neck to block the breeze coming off the bay. The light rail clunks along the tracks and people dot the streets, headed into bars or nightclubs, some going home late from work. Laughter punctuates the crisp night, and car horns blare. My worries and fears slide toward me when the cable car climbs the hills toward Chinatown. Graduation. Possible internship with a top chef. Chance of culinary school in the fall. Nick’s frequent mention of “our” future together. Getting out of a house that shrinks as Baba’s anger grows.
Eight more weeks to figure this out.
The cable car grinds to a stop, and a group fills the spaces around me. Their chatter vibrates through the car and I wonder what it would be like to have so many friends you don’t know which conversation to join. But I have Lin who talks enough for a hundred people. My world will be too quiet without her.
The cable car rocks forward again and the girl beside me talks to her friend about a guy she met in a club and thought he was the one , but he never called her back. Then she makes her friend promise she won’t let her fall for someone new tonight since guys in clubs only want one thing.
I’ll probably never step inside a club, and Baba wants me with Nick. But still. What would it be like to have options? I’ve kissed Nick maybe ten times, and he’ll probably be my first and last. But I guess people marry friends they’ve known since childhood all the time. I’ll think about it when I’m 25. Not 18.
The car stops and the group hops off, headed into the night that could hold someone new for that girl. I grab my bag and pull out my lip gloss when another passenger jumps on as the car lurches forward. My hand freezes, watermelon lip gloss hovering over my lips as Marcus Miller slips down the aisle, grabbing each pole along the way. His charter high school hoodie stretches across his shoulders and his overgrown, sun-streaked hair ripples in the wind. And the legs. Lin has worshipped them since Marcus hit puberty. I’ve always been more into his smile.
Nick is handsome in so many ways, but I’ve known him forever, and he’s so predictable. Expected. Marcus Miller? Completely intriguing.
We’ve lived on the same block since I moved here ten years ago. He spends time in the same places I do, but rarely at the same time. Which is so, so unfortunate for me. Not that I’d ever have anything to say to him. Or dare. We have nothing in common but a trolley stop.
He shifts, his profile outlined by yellow streetlamps and neon lights, and I hope my thoughts don’t float toward him on the breeze.
When he pulls his phone from his pocket, the screen lights his face. Whatever he’s looking at makes him smile, and it spreads all the way up the car to me. For the love of all that’s hot and holy. It’s like the warm rain I used to run through in Taiwan, drenching every part of me. I squint into it, like the night exploded. If only the person who made him smile like that could see what they’ve done. It’s probably a girl. An equally beautiful girl—tall and wispy and completely unaware of how lucky she is because she’s used to getting guys like him.
I skim the lip gloss across my lips, then slip my phone from my bag and pull up Lin’s last text, pretending to type as I angle the camera toward Marcus. I double check that the flash is off, then slide my finger over the button. He’s still smiling, and I bite my lip as I send the picture to Lin. It needs no explanation.
Two seconds later, my phone chimes.
Lin: WHAT?????????????????
HOW??????????????????
YOU ARE brEATHING MARCUS MILLER AIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He leans his hip into the railing while he responds to a text, hair falling into his face as he looks at the screen. Dark eyebrows. Darker lashes. Golden skin. Smile lines like parentheses around his mouth. When he glances up, I jerk my focus to my phone, staring so hard at the screen my eyes burn. I shift sideways on the bench and pull my knees against my chest, texting Lin a real-time description of every move Marcus makes until the trolley rings for my stop. I grab my bag, hop off the car, and walk up the street, mentally rewinding the past ten minutes so I can tell Lin every detail from the beginning.
My phone buzzes and I sidestep construction cones on the sidewalk, glancing at the screen.
Lin: BE ON YOUR FIRE ESCAPE ASAP!
I shove my phone in my back pocket and take bigger strides up the hill, my calves burning. But as I glance over passing cars, my eyes collide with Marcus’s across the street. I look away, narrowly missing someone stepping out of a shop. Apologizing, I hurry past them, my face and neck hot. Marcus caught me looking. But it’s not like I’m stalking him. We live across the street from each other. He got on the cable car after me. I’m just walking home, scanning the street. If anyone’s a stalker, it’s him. Except I could only wish.
I’m focusing so hard on keeping my attention from leaping to the other side of the street that I don’t notice the uneven section of sidewalk before my shoe does. I stumble and yelp, throwing my arms out for balance. When I’m steady on my feet, I straighten and grip my shoulder strap, cursing every earthquake that ever cracked the sidewalk. Marcus probably saw the whole thing. But my eyes aren’t leaving this sidewalk to find out.
I round the corner onto my street, relieved to be out of his sight, but my fire escape is empty, and the restaurant’s neon sign is off, so I veer toward Guo Mama’s shop to wait for Lin and avoid Baba who’s probably counting the till. But when I reach for the door, someone steps behind me and grabs it above my head. I look over my shoulder and my eyes climb a bulldog logo on a chest until they reach a face and my heart dives into my stomach.
“Looks like we had the same idea.” Marcus smiles and I make a sound that’s supposed to be a polite laugh but sounds gorilla-ish.
I hurry inside the shop, my ears practically relocating on my head to listen to Marcus behind me, his Adidas squeaking on the freshly mopped terra cotta. One footstep to every two of mine. My nose joins my overactive ears and catches the breeze coming off him, crisp and flowy. Fabric softener. Spearmint.
“Guo!” His voice rumbles over my head, through my limbs, and vibrates in my chest like I sucked it in and it’s rattling my insides.
“Marcus Miller!” Her shrill voice skids around the corner before she shuffles into sight, her purple shirt billowing around the edges of her apron. Her gray hair is flat after a long day, the bobby pins giving up. “And Mei Li!” She stops when she sees me. “What luck!” She holds up the glass cleaner bottle like she’s making a toast.
Marcus and I reach the counter at the same time, but he walks behind it like he’s an employee and Guo Mama whips him with her cleaning rag before setting it on the counter. She grins as Marcus hauls her giant jar of fortune cookies from under the counter, glass clanking as he pulls off the lid.
“Hi, Guo Mama.” I smile at her, my eyes slipping to Marcus before I yank them back to her. “Just stopping by on my way home.”
“How did your class go?” She sprays the counter and dries it with the rag.
“Really well. I think I’m ready.”
“For what?” Marcus cracks open a fortune cookie, pulls out the paper, then pops both halves in his mouth and chomps while he waits for my answer. He tosses the paper in the garbage, his eyes never leaving mine, spreading blue heat on me like peanut butter.
Guo Mama turns to him and pats his shoulder, her eyes twinkling. “Miss Zhang is going to become a famous chef.”
I roll my eyes. “Not famous.”
“Wait!” Marcus’s eyes widen, tinting everything blue. Think I might be floating. “Zhang? Like Zhang’s across the street?” He jabs his finger toward the opposite wall.
Of course he doesn’t know who I am. We haven’t talked once in the ten years we’ve lived around the corner from each other. I nod. “My family’s restaurant.”
“Dude,” he breathes, nodding slowly. “That is the best freaking Chinese food in the whole bay area. My dad and I are there every Tuesday night. No joke.”
Yeah, I know.
“I order the same thing every single time. Also not a joke.”
Yep. Sweet and sour pork.
“Sweet and sour pork.” He rolls his eyes, then kisses his fingers and throws them into the air like an Italian chef.
I nod. “Good choice.” My voice is thin and off balance, like it’s still stunned to be in Marcus Miller’s presence. Talking to him. Exchanging words. Standing in the blue heat of his eyes. Lin is going to stroke. Maybe I’m stroking.
He unwraps another fortune cookie and repeats the routine before popping it into his mouth, talking around it. “Maybe the owner’s daughter could make a double order magically appear… ”
I laugh. “Like right now?”
He nods, chews, swallows. “Yeah. Now, anytime. 24 hours a day. I could take it down in less than two minutes. Done it so many times.” He unwraps another cookie.
“Too bad the restaurant’s closed. Another time, maybe?”
Another time? Like this will ever happen again.
“How about this?” He chews and holds up his hand until he swallows. “I’m gonna write your fortune, and if it comes true tomorrow, you owe me a double order. You could leave it here and I’ll pick it up after practice tomorrow night. Yeah? Deal?”
I tilt my head, pressing my lips together so my crazy-girl smile can’t slip out. “Are you a fortune teller?”
He shrugs before holding out his hand for me to shake. “Guess you’ll find out.”
I glance at his hand, then shake it, stifling my inner squeal before looking back at him. “Deal.” I let go and drop my hand, balling it into a fist so tightly, my nails cut into my palm. “But if the fortune doesn’t come true, you owe me the biggest bag of sour Skittles in San Francisco.”
Guo Mama cackles, and I remember there are three of us in the shop even if the world just shrunk to Marcus-sized.
“I’m not worried.” He grins at me as he twists the lid back on the glass jar and puts it under the counter.
When my phone buzzes against my backside, I blink and pull my eyes from him, yanking it out of my pocket.
Lin: Where r u? Dying…
Marcus pulls a Sharpie from his pocket and snatches orange Post-It notes from beside the register, peeling one off and slapping it onto the counter. He leans over it, curling his arm around it so I can’t see what he’s writing. Left-handed. Explains the smudges up the side of his hand. He folds the note four times, then holds it toward me. I grab it, but he doesn’t let go. “No looking until you get home.”
I nod. “I won’t, but maybe you should start researching where to buy gigantic bags of sour skittles. Just in case.” I yank the fortune from his hand and slip it in my pocket, breathing through the realization that I have Marcus Miller’s handwriting IN MY POCKET.
“Maybe,” he says, shrugging and smiling, and Guo Mama chuckles.
I turn to her. “Lin’s waiting. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“I’m so proud of you, Mei Li. You are going places, I know.” She reaches up to pat my cheek. “Many, many beautiful places.”
I smile at her. Second time I’ve heard that tonight. I hope it’s true. Glancing from her to Marcus, I squeeze one word through my tight throat. “Bye.”
He holds up a hand in a wave and I turn to walk toward the door. “Can’t wait for my after-practice sweet and sour pork tomorrow, Mei Li.” His voice melts over me like warm honey, but I don’t look back as I push through the door and step onto the sidewalk, the night glossy and buoyant like my thoughts. A guy with a dog walks past, no clue that the whole world just changed inside that shop. Or that Marcus just said my name.
My heart swells in my throat and I put my hand to my neck, smiling as I fast walk toward the alley, scaling my fire escape ladder before I dare to breathe.
Lin’s head pops over the railing, her short, frenzied hair spiking toward me. “Where’ve you been? I’ve been here for seven excruciating minutes. Never do this to me again.”
“I promise what I’m about to tell you will make your wait worth it.” I drop to the landing and push open my window.
“Hurry, hurry!” she squeals, pushing me through the window from behind. “Baba doesn’t know I left, so I don’t have long and want every detail.” She crawls through the window after me and flops onto my bed, kicks her legs up behind her, and wiggles her feet as she smooths her shimmery gold skirt over her backside. “Don’t leave anything out.”
I drop to my knees, elbows on my bed as I lean toward her and tell her every detail down to the neon green Sharpie Marcus used to write the fortune I’m afraid to read.
Her eyes widen and she squeezes my arm. “What does it say?”
I pull it out of my pocket, unfold it, and read out loud. “You will find another fortune waiting for you in Guo’s shop after school tomorrow.”
Her mouth falls open, and she stares at me before a smile takes over her face. “He plays dirty.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “And smart. He knows how to get what he wants.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head. “He’ll forget.” I open my eyes. “I have to focus on real things like the internship Nick is lining up for me. Marcus is definitely not real.”
“Uh, Marcus is very real. You just talked to him in all his glory. Don’t you dare think about Nick at a time like this. You’re officially the only one with a legitimate right to daydream about Marcus Miller. He is what dreams are made of. Nick’s just gross.” She wrinkles her nose. “Sorry. I know you and Nasty Nick have something brewing, but whatever it is stinks. Like an old man. Because seven years older makes him way too old for you. You can do way better. Like Marcus better.” She pauses, then releases a breath and shrugs. “Sorry. Rant complete.”
“You just don’t know Nick well enough.”
“Maybe not, but no amount of money can mask the weird vibe I get around him. And he better not mess with our plans to get on The Price is Right this summer because, so help me…” She waves her hand. “But whatever. All I’m saying is, I’ d rather date that homeless guy on the corner who walks his invisible dog. But…” She shakes her head and holds up her hands. “Let’s just get back to Marcus Freaking Miller.”
I pause, let my brain soak in a little more of the reality of ten minutes ago. “Think he’s still at Guo Mama’s?” I jump to my feet and sweep aside my curtains.
Lin follows and we lean against each other, faces almost pressed to the cool glass. I crane my neck and my breath makes a circle on the glass as I stare at Marcus in front of Guo Mama’s shop, his hand on her shoulder as he leans way, way down to talk to her. His hoodie is slung around his waist now, showing off the muscle chiseled into his arms. Black, blocky words are written in Sharpie on his forearms and I squint to read what it says, but my breath fogs the glass again and I rub it away.
“Do you think all the girls at his school watch him like this?” Lin swipes a circle of fog off the window.
“Unless they’re blind. I’m so jealous of all those girls. Super jealous of his girlfriend. You don’t look like that and not have one.”
“No, you don’t,” Lin agrees, squeezing my arm like she’s taking my blood pressure, her eyes on the street below as she whisper-squeals. “Look at his legs.”
My eyes move from the writing on his forearm to his legs, then to his face. “Yeah, but look at his smile.”
Lin sighs and wipes away the window fog. “He has exceptionally white teeth.”
Guo Mama grabs Marcus’s arm, and he puts his hand over hers. My heart stutters at how gentle he is, even though he could pick her up with one hand. I swallow when thoughts of those fingers tangling with mine spread through my head.
He laughs to the sky again, sending a flash of light into the middle of Chinatown, and Lin gasps. “Whoa…did you see that? He has to be an amazing kisser.” A beat passes between us, our eyes glued on him and Guo Mama. “I wonder what it would be like to kiss a guy like that.”
“I’ll never know.”
“You could, though. You’re gorgeous. He’s gorgeous. The final moments of your senior year would be like being on The Price is Right, hosted by Marcus Miller and winning the whole Showcase Showdown.”
“You know I can’t.” I shrug. “I can’t even be a contestant on his show for 100 reasons.”
Lin turns to me, grabbing my shoulders. “No way—you can absolutely choose door number two. You’re only looking at door number one right now, which is some ugly, oak bedroom set from the 90s—complete with a waterbed—and not even considering door number two, which is an all-expenses paid trip around the world in a private yacht named Marcus Miller. Which would you rather have? You have choices, Mei Li. Stop being so worried about your parents and Gross Nick.”
A moment squeezes between us. She doesn’t understand just how much it matters to me and my parents that I’m with Nick.
“Anyway…” Lin takes a deep breath and smiles. “I have to go. But if I didn’t, we’d make a plan to get Marcus to kiss you before graduation.” She slides up the window, crawls out, and blows me a kiss as she smooths her skirt, then sticks her head back inside the room. “I’m going to walk right past door number two. All you’ve got to do is choose it and all that can be yours.” She grins, then waves as she backs down the ladder.
The April air curls around me, pulling me out of my stuffy room and onto the landing. I lean against the railing, smiling and covering my mouth when Lin crosses the alley and walks past Guo Mama and Marcus. She turns around and blows me another kiss, calling into the night. “See you tomorrow, Mei Li. ”
Marcus looks up and our eyes slam into each other. I grab the railing and consider ducking, but he’ll see me through the slats and I don’t want to be weirder than I already have been, so I scramble back through my window, slam it shut, and yank the curtains closed.