8
Part of me wondered whether I’d overreacted the first time I met Atticus, but when I saw him again at the entrance to Chinatown, I knew I hadn’t. He was just as good-looking as I remembered, wearing the same tan coat, a red jumper and black jeans.
He stood next to a woman I assumed to be Elena. She was caucasian, with defined cheekbones, arched brows and auburn hair tied in a bun. She was taller than Atticus — taller than me, actually — and I wondered whether she was also a secret runway model.
I’d felt optimistic about the day, but standing before the pair of them, who looked like a fashion magazine cover, I felt intimidated all over again.
Atticus smiled. It wasn’t a full smile like Leo’s — it looked more polite rather than real — but he was making an effort. “Hi Edwin,” he said. “This is my friend Elena. Elena, Edwin.”
Elena offered her hand, and I shook it.
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
“Your friend’s coming too, isn’t he?” she asked.
“Yes, Leo. Hopefully, you two get along.”
“Atticus forced me to come,” Elena said.
“Elena,” Atticus hissed.
“What? It’s true.”
“When Leo arrives, at least pretend you’re here of your own free will.”
We spent the next few minutes discussing the restaurant we’d be going to. Atticus and Elena had booked a reservation at their favourite hot pot place called ‘The Spice Empire’, and I felt bad they’d gone through all the trouble when the date was supposed to be my idea.
“Hello!” announced a voice just as the three of us were discussing our spice tolerance.
Before I could turn around, Leo arrived beside me, slapping a hand on my back in greeting. As he introduced himself, I took in the sight of him. His hair was wavier than usual, as if he’d styled it with some kind of spray. He was wearing a jacket, but underneath it —
“Did you come from the gym?” I asked.
“Huh?” he followed my gaze to the black compression shirt he was wearing. A long pause. “Yes.”
I tore my eyes away from the way the shirt emphasised the bulge of his pecs and returned my attention to the group. Atticus looked pleased to see Leo. Elena looked at him like he was a fascinating species of alien.
“We’re having hot pot,” Elena told him. “Have you ever had it before?”
“No, I haven’t. I’m excited, though!”
“It’s down this way,” Atticus said, leading us into Chinatown. It was similar to every other street in Melbourne, except there was more red — red paint, red lanterns and decorations in the windows, and red on menus to illustrate different levels of spice.
Elena fell into step beside Atticus, and something about watching the pair of them walk made me wonder if they were siblings.
“How’d you sleep?” I asked Leo.
“Good! I slept until twelve, and then I had to run to my class.”
“And you managed to submit everything?”
“Yeah, I did it last night before I went to sleep.” He slung an arm around my shoulders. “Thanks for helping me.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, waving a hand.
“Are you feeling intimidated?” he asked softly.
“Maybe a little.” I shrugged, which inadvertently nudged his arm off my shoulders. His slipped his hand down to my waist.
“Don’t be,” he murmured. “You look good, Winnie.”
For a moment, I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t breathe. Then, I saw Atticus and Elena turn to look at us in my periphery, and I batted Leo away.
“How many times do I have to tell you that’s not my nickname?” I asked, praying that if I pretended to be annoyed, it’d hide how flustered I was.
“You can’t stop me, Winnie,” Leo replied with a laugh. “Winnie, Winnie, Winnie —”
“Leo,” Elena called.
We both stiffened like we were back in high school and had been caught breaking the rules.
Elena pointed to a spot beside her. “Come here and talk to me. You’re supposed to be my date, after all.”
Leo trotted off, though not before turning around and mouthing “Winnie” once more at me.
I scowled at him but quickly turned it to a yawn when I noticed Atticus lingering so he could fall into step beside me.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
“The restaurant’s just a few more minutes down this street,” he said.
“Have you been there before?”
“Yeah, it’s our favourite hot pot place,” he said.
I fought the urge to face palm. “Right, sorry, you said that.”
We passed a few shops in silence, and I noticed there were a lot of shaved ice desert places.
Eventually, Atticus cleared his throat. “So, how have you been since Wednesday?”
“I’ve been good. What about you?”
“Good.”
“Do you have any assignments?” I asked.
“I have some, but they’re not too difficult.” He pointed at a restaurant we were approaching. “That’s the place.”
Leo and Elena led us inside, and now I was close enough to hear their conversation.
“— must be super clever,” Leo was saying earnestly.
“I just study a lot.”
“You still must have brains,” Leo insisted. “So what’s the goal afterwards? Medicine?”
“That’s my first preference —” Elena caught sight of an approaching waiter. “Hi, we have a reservation under Sinclair.”
We were led to a table in the back of the restaurant with a circular opening in the middle where the soup would sit. Leo and I sat on one side, Elena and Atticus on the other side.
“Let’s see,” Elena said as she opened a menu. “What soup base should we get? Can you two handle spice?”
“Yeah, a medium amount,” I said.
“I think so?” Leo said.
“Maybe we’ll get two bases to start with,” Atticus said. “They have a dual option. Let’s get spicy and the pork bone broth. Neither of you have any dietary restrictions, do you?”
Leo and I answered we didn’t, and after we ordered the soup, we discussed what other things we wanted to order. Atticus and Elena told us the best value items were meat — rolls of lamb, pork, and beef. We also got noodles, rice cakes, and bok choy at Leo’s insistence that he needed to eat vegetables.
After we ordered the first set of things with the idea we could always order more later, we got up to browse the sauce counter. There were small bowls that we could add ingredients to in order to make a dipping sauce.
“What do you recommend?” Leo asked Elena.
“I like to add soy sauce, a dash of chilli…” she started, dictating a recipe to Leo in a business-like manner. Leo followed her instructions obediently.
“Wow, you’re an expert in this stuff, aren’t you?” he said, flashing her one of his heart-stopping grins. Despite Elena’s matter-of-fact demeanour, I was sure Leo would wear her down by the end of the night.
After we returned to our table, a waiter arrived with the bowl of soup, which was shaped like a yin-yang symbol, half milky white with a chunky piece of bone swimming in it, the other half deep red and full of chillis with an orange teddy bear sitting in the middle.
“Oh my god, it’s so cute,” I said.
“Too bad it’s dying,” Atticus said. He used a metal ladle to knock it over so it was properly submerged in the hot liquid.
“You’re murdering it!” I said, watching in horror as the orange teddy bear melted, its adorable face becoming a deformed monstrous thing.
“R.I.P. teddy bear,” Leo said.
“You guys are aware it’s not alive, right?” Elena asked.
Atticus gave her a look. “No, we’re not aware, Elena. We all thought the soup base bear was sentient.”
Elena gave him a withering look, and once again, if they didn’t look nothing alike, I’d have assumed they were siblings.
“So,” Leo cut in. “How’d you two meet?”
“We went to the same high school,” Atticus said.
“We’ve been friends since year seven,” Elena said. “One day, I was minding my business in science class until this kid marched up to me, pointed at my test tube, and told me I was doing the experiment wrong.”
“That’s not how it happened at all,” Atticus replied, shaking his head. “I was minding my business, and you were sitting on the other side of the table, swearing because your cabbage juice was turning the colour it was supposed to.”
“I wasn’t swearing,” Elena said. “I was expressing my frustration verbally. ‘Damn it’ isn’t a swear word.”
“It used to be.”
“Where’d you learn that, from those historical romance audiobooks you’re addicted to?”
“They’re not romance books,” Atticus clarified for us. “They’re just historical books with romance subplots in them.”
“Anyway,” Elena cut in, “we’ve been best friends ever since. How long have you two been friends?”
Leo counted on his fingers. “…four, five.”
“Five years?” Elena asked.
“No, five days,” Leo corrected.
She stared at him. “You don’t mean five months? Or five weeks?” she asked.
“No, five days,” I said. “We met on Monday.”
“Oh.” She shot an indecipherable glance at Atticus. “You two seem very close.”
“I told you,” Atticus said quietly. “Leo’s the person who Edwin mistook me for.”
I didn’t want to go through the humiliating mix-up story again. Thankfully, the food we’d ordered arrived, distracting everyone.
Elena used the tongs provided to start dropping the thin slices of meat into the bubbling soup. Afterward, when the meat was cooked brown, we used a ladle with holes to strain out the soup and fish out the food. Leo fished out his meat from the non-spicy soup, and after dropping it in his bowl, he picked up his chopsticks.
“I’m not good at using chopsticks, so don’t judge me too harshly,” he told the table.
I watched him wrangle them. “Not bad,” I said.
He gave me a look. “Don’t lie to me.”
“No, it’s good. Except…maybe hold them a little higher.”
“Higher?” The chopsticks wobbled in Leo’s grip as he tried to adjust his fingers.
“Like this,” I said, showing him with my own hand. When he still struggled to mirror me, I leaned over to adjust his fingers for him.
“I feel like a kid,” he said quietly.
“Don’t,” I said.
“But you’re such a natural.”
“I still had to learn when I was a kid. My parents gave me chopsticks that had a hinge, so they were like training wheels. Do it this way.” I moved his fingers. “It’s easier, and you have more control.”
He tried, opening and closing the chopsticks.
“See? That’s perfect,” I told him.
Leo’s entire face brightened. “Thanks, Winnie.”
The sincerity in his voice made the back of my neck itch.
Suddenly, I was aware of just how close we were because I could see the blurry black ring around the grey of his irises, and I hastily pulled away. Atticus and Elena were observing us like we were bacteria under a microscope.
I fought the urge to squirm. “The food’s tasty, isn’t it?”
It was the weakest conversation starter in history, but everyone ran with it. We compared the beef, pork and lamb and encouraged Leo to try the spicy soup. It was too hot for him, but he found a way to make it bearable by diluting it with the pork broth.
Surprisingly, I liked the rice cake more than I thought I would. They were cylindrical, reminding me of tteokbokki, and they paired well with the spicy flavours. Of course, everyone’s favourite was the meat slices, and as we finished off our meal, we used the ladle to search for any remaining pieces in the soup, but the only thing left was the bok choy.
“Here’s another piece for you,” I said, dropping the soggy vegetable into Leo’s bowl.
He groaned. “Why me?”
“You’re the one who ordered it,” Atticus said.
“Once you’re a seasoned professional, you’ll know to avoid vegetables,” Elena said.
“Sorry for wanting a well-rounded diet,” Leo said, gesturing at his chest. “This doesn’t maintain itself.”
“Then have a salad at home. If you do a cost analysis, veggies at hot pot are never worth it.”
“Also, the more vegetables you eat, the less space for meat,” Atticus said.
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” I said, holding my tummy. “I’m so full it hurts.”
Once we had finished — Leo dutifully eating all the remaining bok choy — there was the matter of the bill. I was prepared to pay — the double date had been my idea, after all — but when the waiter placed the bill on the table, the total $152.80, everyone went quiet.
“I’ll pay my share,” Leo murmured to me.
I shook my head. “No, I promised to pay for you —”
“You promised to pay for him?” Elena asked.
“Yeah, he came as a favour to me. Just like you came as a favour to Atticus.”
“Maybe it was a favour, but I had a fun time. I’ll pay my share,” Leo said, touching my arm.
I shook him off. “No, I’m not breaking my promise.”
“You helped me with my project,” he reminded me. “I don’t mind paying…what is it…”
“Thirty-eight dollars and twenty cents,” Atticus said.
“Yeah. That. That’s nothing.”
I gave Leo a look that promised to finish this disagreement later. “Fine,” I said. “I’m paying for you, then, Atticus, since this dinner was my idea.”
“No, you’re not,” Atticus said. “It was your idea, but Elena and I chose the restaurant. It’s our fault the bill is expensive as it is.” He looked around at the empty plates. “When we go, we usually don’t order as much.”
“That’s because when we go, we order for two people, silly,” Elena told him. She brought her hands together. “Let’s split the bill four ways. It’s the fairest way.”
The restaurant did allow split bills, so we each took a turn scanning our cards. Afterwards, when the four of us spilled onto the darkening street, I felt a little guilty, like I had shirked a responsibility.
“Are you still upset about the bill thing?” Elena asked me.
“I’m not upset,” I said. “I just feel bad.”
“How about we get dessert?” Elena announced. “I know a bingsu place nearby, so we can order two. Edwin and Atticus will share, and Edwin pays for that one. Then Leo and I will share, and Atticus pays for that one.”
Leo smiled. “I could always go for dessert.”
“Weren’t you saying you felt pregnant five minutes ago?” Atticus pointed out.
“Yeah, but the food baby’s gone now.” Leo tapped his belly, bringing my attention to the outline of his abs through black nylon.
I averted my eyes. “Bingsu sounds great,” I said.
As we walked to the bingsu restaurant, I found myself next to Elena.
“You’re studying marketing, aren’t you?” she asked.
“That’s right. I’m guessing you’re studying something science-y?”
“I’m majoring in immunology. So, do you plan to work in marketing when you graduate?”
“That’s the plan, yeah,” I said. “I’m interested in advertising, so I’m hoping to take some subjects specifically about that.”
“Maybe you could do an internship.”
“Yeah, I should. It’d be a good way to see if I actually want to work in advertising.”
“Have you done any internships yet?”
“You sound like my parents.”
I expected that comment to bounce off Elena, but instead, she faltered. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t sound like…” she trailed off. “Atticus warned me not to interrogate you.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “You weren’t interrogating me, just asking about my career and stuff.”
“If it were socially acceptable, I’d ask all sorts of invasive questions to find out your intentions and whether you’d make a good boyfriend,” Elena said.
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Right.”
“I’ve made things awkward, haven’t I? I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to freak you out. It’s just that…I’m protective of Atticus. I know that he’s an adult and everything, but…” It was the first time I’d seen Elena flustered. “He’s my best friend,” she finished.
I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I get it,” I said. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”
She smiled, returning to her usual self. “Of course I am. We just ate at my favourite restaurant,” she said matter-of-factly before her lip curled up in the hint of a smile. “And you and Leo aren’t bad company.”
We glanced over our shoulders. Leo and Atticus were trailing behind us, and they were speaking too quietly for me to know what they were talking about, but Leo was waving his hands, eyes wide, while Atticus was nodding solemnly like he was listening to a complex physics problem.
We arrived at the bingsu restaurant, which was cozy, with wood-panelled walls, warm lighting, and jazz music playing in the background. We ordered two bowls of bingsu: strawberry (for Atticus and me) and matcha (for Leo and Elena). However, once we sat down at an emerald-coloured leather booth, and the bowls of shaved ice and toppings were brought to us, we quickly ended up sharing the two of them, eating both flavours. Elena and Leo quickly slipped into a conversation, and Elena laughed for the first time all evening. I felt strangely proud that Leo had managed to charm her.
“Can I ask you a question?” Atticus asked.
I tore my attention away from Leo and Elena.“Sure,” I said as I pushed my spoon into the mountain of milky strawberry-flavoured shavings.
Atticus’s eyes flicked to Leo and Elena, then returned to me. “You and Leo,” he said in a low voice. “Is there really nothing going on between you two?”
“What? No. He’s straight. Straighter than a ruler.”
Atticus nodded slowly.
“Why do you ask?” I said.
“Well, on the way here, he spent the whole time talking about you,” Atticus said.
My stomach did something strange; it could’ve been dread or butterflies. “What did he say?”
“Lots of things. That you’re really fun and nice and easy to talk to, and how you helped him with his architecture project. Also that you smell nice and have pretty eyes and ebony black hair, kind of like Snow White, except for the blood red lips part, but if you were wearing lipstick you could totally pass as Snow White. I’m quoting him directly.”
Before I could say anything — though I wasn’t sure what I could say — Atticus continued. “That you’re funny and encouraging and considerate and goal-driven — something about a find-a-boyfriend mission — and that you have really smooth skin and nice arms and legs, and that Leo knows what he’s talking about because he works at the university’s gym.”
I stared.
“So,” Atticus said, as he scooped up on one of the sliced strawberries resting on the frozen dessert, “I don’t think it’s a stretch to say he’s smitten with you.”
I took a long, steadying breath before promptly dropping my face in my hands. I mumbled something.
“What?” Atticus asked.
I removed my hands, looking up at him, hoping my cheeks weren’t as red as I suspected they might be. “He doesn’t like me like that,” I said. I refused to use the word smitten because it would make me sound sixty years old. “I told you, he’s straight. Everything he told you…he’s just trying to wingman me. It’s my fault because I’m the one who told him to.”
“Told him to rhapsodise about you?”
I groaned. “Told him to make me look good in front of you. I didn’t realise he’d say all of that. I’m so embarrassed.” But also, a part of me felt touched, and another part of me wanted to laugh because, of course, someone as sweet and enthusiastic as Leo would hear the task “make me look good” and say a litany of compliments rather than the typical “he ain’t half bad, you should maybe date him.”
“Okay,” Atticus said, nodding slowly. “That makes sense because for a moment I thought…” he trailed off, then cocked his head. “And you don’t have feelings for him?”
“No!” I said, loud enough to catch Leo and Elena’s attention for a moment before they resumed their conversation. “No,” I said more quietly. “He’s just my friend.”
“Right.”
“What is it?” I asked.
He parted his lips, then shook his head. “Nothing. You know him better than me, after all.”
Right. I’d known Leo for all of five days.