Page 19

CHAPTER 19

WANTED: An everyday kinda thing with a fine-lookin’ Taiwanese girl. Call Buddha if interested.

M y face hurts from smiling as I turn the corner into my alley and scan the street for Nick’s guys, but Guo Mama steps out of her shop and I veer toward her.

“Ah! That’s the look,” She smiles so big I can see all her dentures

“What look?” I shift the grocery bags in my hand.

“Girl in love ,” she says through a grin. “You can’t deny it—I read it in here.” She holds out a folded note and heat rushes my face when I set down bags and snatch it from her, shaking my head.

“Seriously, Guo Mama?”

She holds up her hands. “Can’t help it. I am so happy.”

My eyes trace Marcus’s handwriting, and I smile at the lopsided letters of my name. “I need to get to work. Thank you!” I call over my shoulder as I hurry out the door and slip around the corner, glancing at Marcus’s apartment as I slide the envelope in my pocket and go through the back entrance .

Guo Mama’s right: I am a girl in love and want to tell him. The words bubble to the surface every time I’m around him. He’s going to see them or feel them, but I want to say them.

Dropping the grocery bags on the counter, I sneak upstairs and throw my bag on my bed before closing and locking my door. I roll my sore neck where Holden grabbed me. Another reminder that things will get much worse if anyone catches me and Marcus.

I stare at the envelope until my phone buzzes, and I yank it from my pocket, but it’s only Lin, saying she’ll be here after my shift. At least it’s not another text from Nick. Every time I get one, I fight to type one-word responses with happy, friendly exclamation points so he’ll never suspect anything. The responses in my head are anything but happy or friendly.

Stepping to my desk, I shove Marcus’s letter inside my ‘CALC’ folder with the others and head downstairs for work, smiling to myself as I picture us curled together on his bed earlier, on a blanket under his window. That room was on a completely different planet, far from this one. I could easily give up everything here for everything there. Permanently relocate to his world that might not include culinary school but has unlimited Marcus. If I disappeared from my world, Nick would have to move on. My parents would stay in the States. Everything could be okay.

The kitchen is busy, and I stand on tiptoe to look out the blurry swinging door window to check the crowds. My eyes skip over the sea of red tables, customers’ heads thrown back in laughter or leaned over their dinners.

Wishing it was Tuesday, my eyes skim Marcus’s usual table and skid to a stop on Detective Miller, Detective Robinson…Marcus. Detective Miller’s son who made out with me all afternoon. Not long enough.

My eyes dart to Nick’s usual table, which is empty again tonight, and I let out a shaky breath and close my eyes, remembering his text from earlier: You are going to love L.A. I can’t wait to show you around in a few weeks. I’d texted back that I couldn’t wait, but Nick’s absence tonight is a gust of relief trailed by a hot, fast memory of me and Marcus from earlier, his lips on my neck, hands struggling to stay in the safe zone. Me hoping they wouldn’t.

I press the Sharpie heart he drew on the inside of my wrist against my hip as heat flares in my stomach and into my face.

I turn from the window, my lungs burning as I haul in a deep, shaky breath and walk to the back of the kitchen, behind the shelves, my fingers fumbling with my apron strings, arms and legs numb. Detectives can smell lies, and I’m splattered with them: my Nick lie, my family lie, my skipping school in Detective Miller’s house lie. Making out with his son in his very own house last night and today. Marcus’s fingerprints are practically all over me. His heat is still trapped in my permanent blush. Like a love sunburn I hope never fades.

Baba walks into the kitchen, barking at one of the chefs, and I grab a tablet, gripping it until my fingertips go white. I push through the swinging door, my eyes above customers’ heads as I weave around tables toward Marcus, my heart pumping too much blood to my head. I think I’m going to explode.

I smile at Detective Robinson first, my eyes straining so hard to stay on him, I’m sure I’m glaring. “Hello,” I say with a shaky smile, then tense when I feel Marcus’s eyes rest on my face like a warm hand.

I curl my toes and concentrate on Detective Robinson, hoping I’m not squinting. “Can I get you anything to drink or are you ready to order?”

“Hey, Mei Li!” Detective Miller booms, spinning a spoon on the tabletop, grinning at me like a spotlight on all my guilt. “Looks like we’re getting special Zhang treatment tonight!”

Marcus smirks at the table and rests his forearms along the edge, drumming his fingers, The same fingers that touched me all day. A new number blares from his arm in red Sharpie: 3/1000. I need to look at Detective Miller, but Marcus is leaning on his elbow, chin in his hand as he watches me. Detective Miller drops the spoon he’s spinning, and it clatters to the ground. When he bends to pick it up, Marcus’s eyes meet mine.

“ Speaking of special Zhang treatment. Meet me in the pantry?”

My legs go tingly, and I wiggle them as I bite my lip to control my smile, then yank my eyes back to Detective Miller when he sits up.

“I’ll get you a new spoon,” I say to him, standing on one foot and wiggling the other.

Detective Miller leans back in his chair and smiles. “I was thinking of ordering something different tonight, but…”

“Or…” The word jumps out of me, my whole body jittery. “I could do an order of extra lo mein…” I say, then laugh like a hyper butterfly. When my eyes skim Marcus’s, he raises one eyebrow, his eyes sparking.

“Whoa.” Detective Miller whistles. “Impressive. Guess I really am that predictable if everyone here knows my usual.”

“Not everyone. That’s my own detective work.”

Both detectives laugh and nod while I smile at Detective Robinson’s badge, grateful the lighting is dim for my hot cheeks’ sake.

“And what can I get you?” I ask Detective Robinson, my finger hovering over broccoli and beef.

“Well…if you know his usual, you probably know mine.” He points to my tablet. “Let’s see if I get a surprise, or if we really are Zhang’s VIPs.” He grins, showing the gap between his front teeth.

“Challenge accepted,” I say to my tablet, but my eyes slip to Marcus who picks up his glass and drains the water in two gulps.

Detective Miller laughs and slaps the table. “Big, fat tip from Lex for dealing with this crew.” He reaches across the table and slaps Detective Robinson’s shoulder.

My neck is kindling a bonfire that will flare out the top of my head any minute, but I smile, feeling like I’m breathing in hot air. I bend one knee so I don’t pass out. “Anything to drink?” I hit the buttons before they tell me. Dr. Pepper, Mountain Dew. Dr. Pepper.

I breathe through my nose to keep a straight face and ignore Marcus, but he leans into the table and drops his hands under it. A second later, his fingers trail behind my knee and down my calf. My heart jumps and I inhale sharply, shaking my leg like I’m flinging off a bug.

“You okay?” Detective Miller’s eyebrows furl but Marcus’s fingers drift to the side of my knee while he pretends to study the menu on the table in front of him.

I lock my knee and snap my eyes to Detective Miller and smile, nodding spastically while my stomach squirms. “Yes. Fine.” My thoughts travel at the speed of light down my leg to Marcus’s fingers. “Sorry. You said large Dr. Pepper, right?”

He nods and hands me his menu as I bite my lip, hauling my focus back up my body to Marcus. “What can I get for you?”

He leans back and crosses his arms on his chest, rocking on the chair’s back legs. I glance at his fingers that just secretly left lava trails down my legs, then the fraction on his arm.

“What’s 3/1000?” I ask with my eyes.

“ Show you in the pantry. But that heart on your wrist looks serious. You got a boyfriend? ”

I look at my tablet, then back to Marcus, talking with my eyes. “Look at your menu before your dad notices.”

Luckily, Detective Miller is discussing something with Detective Robinson, and Marcus sighs, long and loud.

“Well…if you know what these jokers like, I bet you know what I like.” His eyes widen. “ And it has nothing to do with food .” I grip my tablet tighter while he scans the menu, then sighs and looks at me. “I had Zhang’s earlier today but can never get enough. I love everything about it. So good.” His eyes spark and set tiny fires in places that make me want to crawl into his lap or run and jump in the ocean. He grins up at me and I kick his ankle. Hard.

He flinches, then straightens, and smiles at me. “Sweet and sour pork for me, please.”

I’m combing my wet hair after a shower when Lin trots up the stairs, blowing a bubble as she sails into my room.

“Hey, hot stuff.” She flops on her stomach across my bed. “Will you promise we can talk about something more exciting than calculus? Does anyone actually like it? Or use it?” She swings her head toward me where I’ve dropped into my desk chair. “The answer is decidedly no. So, let’s talk about something useful as a warm-up. Like…the real reason you weren’t at school today. Hmmm? Could it have something to do with a soccer player?” She stares at me and taps her chin. “Which would positively dash Harvey in pieces since he thinks you two are going to end this year with your lips locked while you’re on some super-scary rollercoaster on Senior Day.”

“How do you know that?” I prop my feet on my desk, remembering my lips locked on Marcus’s while I was supposed to be at school with Harvey. Marcus’s lips affect my stomach way more than any rollercoaster could. That stomach-drop feeling happened repeatedly in the last twenty-four hours. I put my hand over it, then pretend to straighten my shirt when Lin looks at me weird.

She digs a pen out of her bag. “Heard he’s going to ask you to prom.”

Oh. That. I haven’t thought about prom since Marcus took over all sections of my brain .

When my phone buzzes on my desk, I pick it up to see Mmm on my screen and control my voice to keep from shrieking. “Be right back.” I jump up and bolt into my bathroom, swinging the door closed behind me. Climbing into the shower, I huddle in the corner and answer. “Hi,” I whisper through a spreading smile.

“Hey,” he sighs into the phone.

“Was it your idea to come in tonight? That was the best kind of surprise.”

“It was actually my dad’s, so that worked out nicely. Maybe he senses how much I crave Zhang’s these days…”

There’s a honk on his end of the phone. “Where are you?”

“Staring at your window.”

I straighten and put my hand over my mouth as ice crawls through my veins. “Xander and Holden could be anywhere.”

“And?”

I burst out of my bathroom and yank my curtains aside while Lin watches from my bed. Marcus is standing across the alley, one hand holding his phone to his ear, the other over his heart. His hair waves at me in the breeze, his smile lighting the alley.

“Come up here. Hurry.”

“Is that who I think it is?” Lin asks over my shoulder as I shove open the window.

“Hurry,” I rush into the phone, then hang up and shove it in my back pocket, watching Marcus. There aren’t many places for a human to hide down there, and there are enough neon signs to outline shadows. Unless my stalkers are hiding in the dumpster, the coast seems clear. But we can never be too careful.

Lin grabs my arm and murmurs, “You’ve been keeping secrets, and you promised you’d tell me every detail.”

I swivel toward her. “Okay, don’t kill me, but…Marcus and I are…”

“Are what ?!” Her eyes spark and she sticks her head out the window beside me, then jerks back inside the room. “What are you?!” she gasps, then says, “You two have kissed haven’t you?” When I don’t respond, she gasps louder. “I could murder you with my bare hands for not telling.”

I duck back inside and turn to her. “I swear I’ll leave nothing out. But you have to swear you’ll never tell a soul what you’re about to witness. I mean it, Lin. Promise.” I glance out the window when Marcus pulls himself onto the fire escape, gripping his ribs and swearing, then I turn back to Lin and hold out my pinky.

She holds up hers, then grabs my wrist, and inspects the Sharpie heart before tilting her head and squinting at me. “Where did this come from?”

“Promise you won’t tell any of this.”

She holds her breath, then lets it out while squeezing her eyes shut and nodding. “Fine. But…” She wraps her pinky around mine and presses her thumb to mine, sealing the promise. “You have so much to spill.”

“Oh. Hey,” Marcus says when he ducks and leans through my window. “Nice to see you again, Lin.”

Her mouth is open and smiling and Marcus glances at me when she doesn’t say anything.

I push her shoulder. “Will you make sure my door’s locked?”

She blinks, then nods and turns toward the door, squealing at it before glancing over her shoulder at Marcus who’s easing through my window. He drops into my room, swearing at the ceiling as he holds his ribs. I slide the window shut and close the curtains.

I hold my finger to my lips, and he nods, then reaches for my waist but pulls back when Lin slides beside me.

“You two…” She shakes her head slowly, her eyes stuck on Marcus. “This is…”

“Secret,” I say, turning to her. “You promised.” I widen my eyes at her, sending the message loud and clear .

“Oh, it won’t come out of my mouth, but my head is nothing but raving about this entire situation.” She waves her hand between us. “A lot has happened since I left you two after the game, hasn’t it? Including that.” She points at Marcus’s eye. “Which I’m sure Mei Li kissed better.”

Marcus raises his eyebrows and laughs once as she takes a few steps backward, grabs her bag off my bed, and mouths, “Oh my gosh” to me while Marcus watches. She opens the door and I mimic zipping my lips. She holds an invisible phone to her ear and mouths, “Call me” as I close the door and lock it, then turn to Marcus.

“Are you crazy coming here?” I whisper.

He shrugs and grins. “Couldn’t help it. Told Dad I was taking a run, but he’s waiting for me to get back so we can do movie night. If I’m not there, he’ll send out an all-call.”

I stand on tiptoe and hover my lips close to his, smiling. “So, what do the numbers on your arm mean?”

He grips the hem of my shirt, pulling me against him “Let’s just say it changed from a 2 to a 3 this afternoon and kinda wanna change it to four right now…”

I laugh to the ceiling, then press closer until his shirt crinkles and I frown.

He pats his chest and whispers, “Massive amounts of tape. Like, two rolls.”

I tug on his hoodie zipper until he bends toward me, our mouths crashing into each other.

“I knew,” he says between kisses, “if I came here…I’d get all sweaty…” He pauses and gets too involved with my mouth to talk, gripping my hips. “Gotta get sweaty enough my dad’ll believe I went for a run.” He guides me backward and presses me against the wall, our mouths telling everything we can’t put into words until footsteps come up the stairs.

I push him toward the window, and reach around him, yank aside the curtains, shove it open. “You have to go,” I whisper.

He ducks through the window, turning back to me and grinning. “ Sufficiently sweaty.”

When someone knocks on my door, I whirl around. “Yeah?”

“I need your help downstairs, please.” Mama’s voice is barely loud enough to make it through the closed door.

“Okay,” I call. “Give me a minute. Finishing some math.” I cringe, then whirl back around to Marcus, leaning out the window, our faces close. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“I’m definitely not,” he whispers back, the lamplight from my window and his smile combining to spotlight him.

“Wait,” I whisper.

“Yeah?” He sticks his head through the window, and I take it between my hands and lean toward him, my lips on his ear, my heart pounding the words out of me.

“I love you,” I say then pull away, but Marcus grabs my wrists.

“Whoa. Wait. What did you say?”

I hold my finger to my lips and glance over my shoulder, then back to him. There’s no way he hasn’t seen it in my eyes. But just in case, I say it again, my throat throbbing. “I love you.”

He stares at me, frozen, then shakes his head. “No…no, no, no.” His palm goes over my ear, his fingers tangling in my hair. “That’s not how this goes.” His forehead meets mine and I close my eyes, breathing in his heat. “It’s supposed to be like, a…moment.” His voice ripples around me. “I’m supposed to say it first and then you say it back and—”

I cup my hand over his mouth. “Shh! You’re going to get me in so much trouble.”

He pulls away. “Then tell me again so I can see what it looks like when you say it.” He runs a finger over my bottom lip, watching it before meeting my eyes again .

I grab his hand. “You should’ve been listening.”

“I was,” he murmurs, searching my face. “But…whoa.” His throat bobs as he swallows, his eyes roaming my face. “I was waiting for the perfect time to say it and—”

“You worry about perfection, and I’ll say what I think when I think it.”

“Is that the first time you’ve thought it?” He arches one brow and grins.

“Not telling.”

“That’s okay. I’ve seen it. You want me.”

Blood surges through my veins and I’m lightheaded. “ You’re right. ”

“ Prove it .”

The adrenaline surge leaves me coiled and ready to spring through my window, but I lock my knees. “ Not until you say it back .”

“This isn’t how I wanted to say it. Or where or how or any of it,” he whispers.

“So you’ve thought about it…” I tilt my head, smiling.

He nods slowly. “Yeah, like…every time I look at you or talk to you or text you or read your texts or write you notes or read yours. When we’re video chatting and I’m wishing you were in bed beside me instead of all the way over here.”

My stomach flips and I squeeze the windowsill. He glances to his right, his face smooth in the castoff light before he meets my eyes again, glossy and soft.

“I think about it when I daydream about you in biology and English and math and history and during practice and church and riding the train and walking home. And breathing. So yeah…” He nods slowly. “I’ve thought about it a couple times.” He shrugs. “Seems crazy but doesn’t feel crazy.” His eyes hold mine, and I beam at him.

“Mei Li?” Mama’s voice calls from the stairs. “Downstairs, please. ”

“Coming!” I whip back around to face him. “ You have to go ,” I say with my eyes, reaching to shut the window.

“ But I haven’t said it yet .”

“ Guess you’ll have to find the perfect time .”

He smiles as he backs down the ladder, patting his hand over his heart before he disappears.

I pull the window down, take a deep breath, and release it in a silent squeal so no one will sense that I was just telling Marcus Miller I love him.