Page 12

CHAPTER 12

Marcus: 7 eternal hours til Date #2. Capital D. Actually, in my head, it looks like this: DATE #2!!!!!!!!!!!!!*@#$*##@#!!!!! TMINUS7HOURS!!!! But all I can do is text cuz it would be weird to lay in bed and yell it. Texting’s better than nothing, but…texts don’t smile at me.

Mei: Why are you awake at 3 AM?

Marcus: Probably the same reason you are. P.S. Is it weird I was kinda jealous of Johnny *trying* to flirt with you the other night?

Mei: I’m using you to get to your friends.

Marcus: I’d just hate to lose the girl before she becomes my girlfriend.

Marcus: Not that you are.

Marcus: My girlfriend

Marcus: Yet

M ei walks down the alley toward me, staying close to her building. When she spots me, I put my hand over my heart and shoot a smile over lines of cars riding their brakes down the hill and clumps of tourists blocking my view. When they pass, I catch her eye again and dial her number.

She answers on the first ring. “Hey.”

“Whatcha doing today?”

Her smile spreads and takes mine with it. “Knitting. Lots of knitting.”

“Oh. I’d love to see your work. You should bring your yarn and meet me at the dragon gate.”

“There’s a lot of yarn. Think I’ll leave it home. But I’ll be there.” She ends the call and grips her bag strap, smiles, and walks down the street. I shove my phone into my pocket and do the same but can’t keep my eyes off her as she dodges fruit stands and people, and I barely miss slamming into a fire hydrant.

At the crosswalk, I stay outside the crowd. I catch Mei’s eye across the intersection, put my hand over my heart and pat my chest like a heartbeat. She bites her lower lip and looks down, touches her tattoo. Really wish I could touch it, too.

We continue walking on opposite sides of the street until we pass under Dragon’s Gate and out of Dad’s jurisdiction, and hopefully out of Face Eater’s sight.

She crosses the street toward me, smooth, like she’s gliding around people, hips swiveling as she steps over cracks, onto the curb. My eyes are overwhelmed, and it takes me way too long to haul words up my throat to say, “Hey.”

She smiles up at me, her knuckles white on her bag strap, cheeks a shade of pink. And it’s no sunburn. “Hi.”

I hold out my hand and she takes it, watching our fingers weave together while I watch her. Too soon? I squeeze her hand and she squeezes back. Nope.

Her hand’s half the size of mine, but our fingers fit together like finger soul mates. I pull her into my side, and she wraps her other hand around my bicep which flexes under her touch, but she smiles at the sidewalk and keeps it there. I could probably fly right now.

We follow side streets and back roads until the Palace of Fine Arts rises at the end.

“This is the best spot to knit.” She laughs and I drop my backpack and yank out my favorite blanket, spread it on the ground, then flop onto it. Lying on my side, I prop myself up with my elbow and pat the blanket beside me. She pulls her bag over her head and slips off her Vans before lying on her side, facing me.

“I’ve never been here.” She picks at a thread on the blanket. “Especially on a blanket with orange dinosaurs all over it.” She smiles, smoothing her hand over two T-Rexes sharing a bowl of ice cream.

“That’s because Meemaw made this one-of-a-kind masterpiece for me when I was eight, and it’s been somewhere on my bed ever since. I wash it with this certain kind of fabric softener so it always smells like her house, and it’ll be with me until I die. Even though I’m sure it’s probably happy for the change of scenery and doing something different with its life today. But can we go back to you never being here before?” I frown. “How long have you lived here?”

“Ten years. I don’t leave Chinatown very often.”

Her eyes are all shimmery, like melted chocolate, and her lip gloss outlines her mouth in light pink. I think about outlining it with my finger.

“We’re changing that today.” And I have a feeling a lot of other things are gonna change today, too. This close to her, my priorities dissolve. I don’t feel so bad about lying to Dad when I’m with her. All I gotta do is keep my hands to myself and everything’s cool. Or hold her hand and only her hand. “Where’d you move from?” A leaf falls on the blanket and I pick it up, keeping my eyes on hers.

“Taiwan. I was eight.”

“Whoa.” My eyebrows shoot up. “So, when I was getting a dino blankie for my eighth birthday, you were moving to a foreign country. You still remember Taiwan?”

She nods. “Kind of. The smells mostly. And my Nai Nai’s house. She liked yellow.”

“Grandma, I assume?”

She nods. “She was the best. She gave me Buddha before we moved here. She sculpted him herself and said to keep him with me for good luck.”

I watch the leaf twirl between my fingers. “Is she still alive?”

Mei shakes her head. “She died three years ago.”

“I vow to take extra special care of Buddha, then, ‘cause your grandma was right about the good luck thing—I’ve been feeling pretty lucky about a lot of things since I met him.” I jiggle my foot when the urge to lean toward her plows through me. “But hold up.” I widen my eyes. “What if your grandma reincarnated into the Buddha and she’s spying on me?”

She tilts her head. “If I believed in reincarnation, I’d hope she’d be a little more alive.”

I laugh to the blanket and cross and uncross my toes. “Sorry. Just assumed Buddhist…”

“It’s more about tradition than religion in my family. I want something different.”

“I get that.” She watches me, waiting, so I let the words fly that have been circling in my head. “I like God. Feel like we get along pretty well.” I lift a shoulder. “But I have lots of questions. About him. Religion. And other stuff, more recently.”

She raises her eyebrows. “What kind of stuff? ”

“You. Lots and lots of questions about you.”

“Like…?”

“Like…how we’ve lived this close for ten years and never met.” I flick a fly off my wrist.

“Oh, I’ve known about you for a long time.” She rolls her eyes at the tree above us. “You’ve just never noticed me. You’re way too cool.”

I shake my head. “No way. If I’d met you before, this thing would’ve happened a long time ago.” I wave a hand between us. “You just don’t wanna admit you’ve been locked in a closet for the last ten years and just escaped.”

Mei laughs, her smile splitting the air with light before she rolls her eyes. “My baba’s probably thought about it. Can’t wait to get away from here.”

“Won’t miss your parents?”

“No.”

I nod and practically hear her inner doors slam shut on that conversation. “So…I’m guessing if they knew you were out with me, you really would be locked in a closet.”

“Good thing they don’t know.” Her smile is lightning on a sunny day. I’m singed inside.

“But they’re cool with Face Eater?”

“He’s practically family. And he’s Taiwanese, so…” she says to the blanket, the light going out of her face, but I want it back, so I duck my head and catch her eye.

“What do you think about boys who aren’t Taiwanese?”

She smiles at the blanket, then the sky before dropping her eyes to mine again. “I think…I like tall ones who play soccer and get a 4.0 and write funny notes and have dino blankies from their meemaws and tell stupid jokes and—”

“Stupid?!”

She nods. “The stupidest.”

I shrug and adjust my elbow. “Like what do you call a fish wearing a bowtie?”* 1

“Exactly like that. ”

“Guess the answer and you’ve got yourself another date with a tall white boy who plays soccer and writes notes and has a 4.0 and a blankie. Although…the 4.0 is in danger because of a short Taiwanese girl with killer eyes and an assassin smile who makes me laugh until it’s an ab workout.”

“If the short-according-to-your-standards Taiwanese girl doesn’t guess the answer, does she not get the date?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “She’ll just be in charge of date number two.”

Her eyes flick to mine. “So either way, I win. Buddha’s tossing around the good luck.”

I inch my fingers across the blanket toward hers, then lace them together until our palms meet like our hands are sending a thank you prayer to God. Our eyes crash into each other as my fingers explore hers, and I ask her a million questions until my stomach rumbles.

She raises her eyebrows and laughs while I untangle our hands and slap my stomach, then pull out my phone. “No way. 1:00 already.” I swear and drop my forehead to the blanket, groaning into it before popping back up, meeting her eyes. “Why do the perfect days go so fast and the days between drag?” I push myself up and offer my hand to help her up, then stuff the blanket in my backpack and take her hand like this is what we do every Saturday. Like I’m supposed to be touching her instead of avoiding her because she’s my personal, life-sized Oreo and could be the death of my motorcycle.

“You don’t have to be back in your closet anytime soon, right?” I smile and glance down at her, shrugging my backpack on.

She smiles up at me. “No. My parents think I’m at Lin’s.”

“Any chance you could stay at Lin’s until, like, 10 PM, maybe? That’s when I have to be home to act all studied out so my dad doesn’t guess what I’ve really been doing all day.”

She laughs and we cross the street. “I’m sure Lin won’t mind my imaginary company until then but…I’m guessing your dad doesn’t know you’re with a girl today.”

I glance down at our tangled hands, watching them swing as we walk. My arm’s twice as long as hers, but somehow, our arms and hands fit perfectly. Bet there are some other things that might fit perfectly, too. Lips. Only lips. Geez. I mentally shake myself and clear my throat. “Uh, nope—definitely not, but I haven’t even kissed you yet, so I think I’m pretty safe.” I grin into the afternoon as she raises her eyebrows and laughs, just as shocked as I am that a piece of my thoughts slipped out. “Also glad you didn’t answer my stupid joke earlier ‘cause now you owe me a date. Mei Li Zhang style.”

The rain goes from drops to downpour, so we stand under a tree, soaked and downing Starbursts we bought along the way. My blanket’s wrapped around us, and Mei’s so close, my body cranks up the heat until my palms sweat and my face flushes. I pray the rain never stops so I can stand here all day and absorb her. Or kiss her. She’ll taste like lemon Starbursts. But if I do, I’ll drop the blanket around us, and she’ll move away and…moment ruined. Also, I want my hands free to go wherever they wanna go. Which is pretty much everywhere they shouldn’t. So…motorcycle. MOTORCYCLE. I’ve always known girls could mess me up, but this is next-level internal chaos. So glad my head isn’t see-through.

When the rain lets up, we saunter out of The Presidio toward Golden Gate Bridge and Mei smiles at her feet.

“What?” I ask, trying to meet her eyes.

“Nothing.”

“Your smile says you’re a liar.”

“I was just wondering what you’re thinking. I can’t see your eyes from down here.”

I smile into the air ahead of us. “Uh…I’m thinking a whole lo t about kissing you.” She presses her lips together and I hurry and add, “But I won’t. ‘Cause I know how pathetic my self-control is with things like Oreos and soccer and you’re way harder to resist than those. So…” I pop a Starburst into my mouth to keep it busy.

She frown-smiles. “What does that mean?”

I shrug. “Oreos are my weakness. Used to be my biggest.” I take the wet blanket, stuff it in my backpack, then walk backward, unwrapping another Starburst, watching her smile at me. I pop it into my mouth and wiggle my eyebrows, then glance over my shoulder to make sure I won’t back into anything. “Keep hanging out with me and kissing will happen, Mei Z. Fair warning. Just gotta keep things chill until graduation.”

She plays with her necklace, bites her lip. “Why’s that?”

“A little bet I made with my dad in ninth grade,” I call to her, the sound of traffic on the bridge swelling around us. “Avoid excessive girl contact until after graduation, get a motorcycle.” She nods, so I go on. “I really want it, but I also really want you, so…it’s gonna be hard if we keep this up.”

“Not sure I can compete with a motorcycle.”

My Adidas shriek against the wet grass as I continue walking backward, and Mei walks slowly toward me. “I already know you’re way better than any motorcycle. I just want both.”

Her smile cuts through the mist, making me squint as I smile, and she runs toward me. I switch my backpack to my chest so I can pick her up and swing her onto my back. She squeals and I grip her thighs as I run across the field, down the road, and through a tunnel. Laughter squishes out of her every time she bounces against my back. The sound echoes off the cement walls and into me as I run up the ramp, laughing at her laughing.

Slowing to catch my breath, I walk along the bridge railing. Her chest presses against my wet back, her arms wrapped around my shoulders, hands on my chest like she’s locking us together. My fingertips flex against her thighs and I slow, way, way down. Her hair tickles my neck, and I wanna flip her around and press her against the chain-link fence. Make out with her while cars whiz past and shake the bridge beneath us. But if I want my motorcycle, I won’t. And if I don’t wanna scare myself or her, I can’t. Even though I should be scared and running ‘cause now I understand why people jump off this bridge when their feelings get too big. Mine wanna burst out of me, climb the bridge, and paraglide out to the ocean.

She rests her chin on top of my head and I suck in too much air, coughing a few times. About halfway across the bridge, I stop and let her slide off my back. We stand next to each other, pinkies hooked around each other as we look out over the bay.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh. “This has been one of the best days ever.”

I smile into the breeze. “Top ten, at least?”

“Top two.” She glances at me out of the corner of her eye, and I turn toward her, my elbow on the rail.

“What’s number one?”

“It hasn’t happened yet. I’ll tell you when it does.” She watches a seagull float on the breeze.

I wanna be the biggest part of her number one day. I wanna be part of all her days.

“What are you doing after graduation?” I swallow and curl my toes in my shoes.

She pauses, watches the ship below us, then talks to the bay. “I’ve got an internship in L.A. Hopefully culinary school in the fall.”

“Where?” My stomach tries to hide behind my other organs.

She shrugs and swallows like whatever she’s gonna say hurts. “I’m waiting to hear.” She shifts, looking through the fencing and over the bay. “What are your plans?”

I wanna ask more questions but she’s locked that inner door again and I shouldn’t have asked the “future” question at all ‘cause I don’t wanna talk about mine. I slide my fingers through hers, the answer scraping up my throat as I pull her away from the railing and off the bridge, down the ramp, back through the tunnel.

When she looks at me and raises her eyebrows, I look straight ahead, my eyes scanning the tunnel’s opening so far away. “Verbally committed to USF.” It’s too loud in here to talk. Traffic rumbling above us, wind, the silence of unsaid words I wanna suffocate.

When we reach the end of the tunnel, I pull her into my side “Still good with being out for a few more hours?”

She nods. “I’m fine with never going back. As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m so good.” I shove away college and internships and what-ifs and pull her closer so we bump into each other as we walk. “What if I’m a kidnapper?”

“You’re my top pick for kidnappers.”

I stop walking and pull her toward me, wrapping my arms around her. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

She laughs into my chest then looks up at me. “On the topic of kidnapping. My very favorite movie ever is showing in Dolores Park on Monday night, and I was thinking since I owe you a date, maybe you’d go with me? Hopefully willingly so I don’t have to throw you in the back of my white van.”

“Does your van have candy and puppies in it?” I smile and hold her tight until her smile melts through my shirt. “Don’t promise if you can’t deliver.”

She laughs to the sky, her chin jabbing into my chest. “Candy, definitely. ”

“I’ll tie myself up and be ready on Monday.”

Her smile lights the space between us and now, I wanna think about the future. The rest of this day. Monday. Whatever days I’ll spend with her after that.

“So…” I sweep away hair that blows across her face. “When you said your best day hasn’t happened yet, I decided I wanna take that spot. And just…stay there.” The ocean breeze whips our hair around, and I smooth hers against the back of her head. “But only if my chances are at least 50 percent.”

A motorcycle speeds past, its rumble shaking the ground and my guilt, and I almost let go of her until she talks against my chest.

“At least 50 percent.”

I take a deep breath, fill my lungs with mist. Tonight, when I can’t sleep because there’s too much Mei in my head, I’ll figure out how I’m gonna get the girl and the motorcycle.

I unwrap myself from her. “Challenge accepted.” Pulling out my Sharpie, I write #1 on my arm, then cap it and slide it back in my pocket.

1 ?*Answer: Sofishticated