twenty-four #2
“Oh yeah?” A genuine smile spread on her face. The first one I’d seen. “Nice. Maybe we can do our schedules together. Just
saying, you know, if we have to do group projects, I’d prefer doing them with someone who can pull their own weight.”
“I wouldn’t mind that,” I said.
At lunch, I did my customary scanning of the room for a half-occupied table. The trick was to find a long one that had people
at one end so I could sit sort of nearby. It felt less humiliating that way, because a casual observer would think I was maybe
sitting with people rather than sticking out at a completely empty table. It was like a game for me.
I was feeling relatively proud of myself about having found the perfect situation. A group of girls who looked like they could’ve been my friends, even if they weren’t. They glanced at me every once in a while, as though considering introducing themselves,
but nobody made the first move. That was okay. I was used to eating by myself. One day, maybe, I’d muster up enough courage
to walk up and ask to sit next to them without fear of rejection, but I was fine with being in my comfort zone for a little
bit longer.
Part of this routine involved making sure I didn’t make too much eye contact with people nearby. So I was focused intently on my mediocre hamburger and didn’t notice Alan coming up to me until he was sitting right across from me.
“Hi,” he said. He was wearing a soccer jersey and khakis. His shoulders looked so good in that shirt. My traitorous heart
did a lurch at the sight of him.
The girls at the table next to me fell into silence. They stared at us, glancing back and forth between him and me, unable
to comprehend why the guy who everyone knew was deliberating sitting next to the girl no one had ever seen before. It must’ve
appeared like some kind of pity play.
I was too surprised to say anything, and it gave him an entry. He cocked his head to the side. “You look familiar. Do I know
you?”
“Ha ha. Very funny.” I considered telling him to go away, but I didn’t want to cause a scene in the cafeteria. I had just
spent nearly a whole week with him; surely, I could handle another thirty minutes. “I didn’t know you had lunch at this time.
I haven’t ever seen you before.”
“I don’t, actually. Mine is next period, but I ditched today.”
“You? Ditching class?”
“The teacher likes me, and I’ve otherwise had a perfect attendance record. I think it’ll be okay.”
“Of course.” God, this hamburger was so dry. It made me think of Monty’s Good Burger, where the burgers had been so juicy.
It made me think of the eagerness in his face as he watched me try something he liked, how transparent he was about wanting
to share his delight with me.
“Did you finish everything in time?” he asked.
“I wrote the essay you told me to.”
His face lit up. “Oh yeah? About Kit? And studying journalism?”
I nodded. “It was a good idea, so I took it and ran with it.”
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you. Any place would be lucky to have you.”
“I didn’t turn it in.”
He looked confused. “Huh? The essay?”
“No, the applications. I didn’t turn any of them in.”
“Well, maybe you can get an extension or something? Extenuating circumstances. I’m sure they can do something like that. We
can do some research. I mean a lot happened in the past few days. You found out about your grandmother. There has to be a
way.”
He was running on, so I stopped him.
“It’s fine. I decided not to go. I think I’m going to hang around here for another year and try the community college. Stay
home. You know, a baby step.”
It shouldn’t have mattered what he thought about this. I didn’t want to go into it with him, all my reasons, which felt intensely
personal and hard to explain. I tore my gaze away and focused on the grooves in the table instead. There was a pause where
I thought he might ask a bunch of questions, like whether this was really a choice I’d thought through since I’d made it at
the last minute, or what my parents thought. I wouldn’t have been able to answer those questions.
But he didn’t ask me anything.
“That’s great,” he said earnestly. “I’m happy for you. Really.”
We looked at each other for a long while, because whatever this meant for me, it was obvious, at least, what it meant for
us. It was almost inevitable, no matter what decisions I’d made, that we would end up in different places. But this made it
more final.
I didn’t want to dwell on it, not now, when it was all still very new. “So what are you doing here, actually?” I asked finally.
He cleared his throat. “I came to confess.”
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it was not that. “Confess? So my parents did ask you to cover up my grandmother’s
illness?”
“Not that. I was telling you the truth on that one. But I spent the entire drive back to San Diego thinking about how you
had no reason to believe me because I had lied to you about other things—going back all the way to the beginning. So I wanted
to confess everything I’ve lied to you about. Then you’ll know from now on that what I’m saying is real.” He made it sound
so simple, so matter-of-fact.
Now that we had changed topics to something much juicier, the girls at the table were all listening intently, without even
a pretense of keeping up appearances. They were making me nervous, but I couldn’t bail. “Why did you feel like you had to
ditch class to do this during my lunch period?”
“Well, I could’ve gone to your house, I realize that. But I figured you needed some time to yourself, and I wasn’t convinced you’d actually open the door. And it felt less stalkerish to find you here than sleep on your doorstep, waiting for you to leave the house.”
I crossed my arms. “You’re right. That would be super creepy. So what do you want to tell me?”
“The first time you saw me in the hallway. I did lie. I saw you right away. I would’ve recognized you, even after twenty years.”
I colored. “This is a weak confession. I already called you out on it, remember?”
“Yeah, but don’t you want to know why?”
“It’s probably the same reason you tossed me under the bus back in Mount Pierce, which by the way, is another lie. Not sure
if that was on your list of things to go through.” My skin was prickly and warm.
He furrowed his brow. “Mount Pierce?”
“Everyone here thinks you came here directly from Shanghai.” At this, I turned to our captive audience and addressed them
directly. “Right?”
They all nodded in unison.
“It’s like you pretended that entire part of your life didn’t exist. You pretended like I didn’t exist. It’s the same reason. You don’t need to explain that we weren’t good enough for you, just because you’ve finally
gotten over it and can sit next to me now.”
“That’s not it, Stella,” he said softly.
“Okay, well, whatever. It’s time for me to go back to class. Don’t try to trap me outside Journalism II to hear the rest of
this.” I stood up to go.
“Wait. Do you still have the marble?”
That stopped me. “What?”
“The orange marble from my tiao qi set.”
“You lost it back in Mount Pierce?”
“I didn’t lose it. I left it at your house. Do you still have it?”
I stared straight ahead. My ears were beginning to ring. “You can have it back,” I said at last. “I should’ve mailed it to
you.”
“So you kept it?” His voice was stained through with hope.
“I have to go. I’m going to be late for class,” I said, even though there was plenty of time left.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll go. It’s just— I wanted to know.”
I watched him leave, knowing that whatever was between us, it wasn’t over yet.
I stood there for a moment, feeling the sensation rush back to my limbs.
“Hey,” one of the girls at the table piped up after a pause. “That was wild. Like a freaking K-drama. So how do you know Alan
Zhao, exactly?”