Then
Ket Siong tried to be Renee’s friend and nothing more. He might have succeeded, if not for Renee’s ex.
It was a pity Ket Siong wasn’t there when Andrew Yeoh came to her flat. Fortunately, a neighbour heard the shouting and knocked on the door. Renee got to the door first and managed to flee, leaving the neighbour to deal with Andrew.
Ket Siong would have liked to deal with Andrew. It might have worked off some of the inhuman energy that had bedevilled him ever since he’d realised he was in love. He had been jittery and on edge since then, feeling simultaneously as though he could write a dozen symphonies and as though he’d explode unless he did something drastic, like throw himself in front of a speeding train for Renee. Or kiss her.
His teachers had noticed: “It’ll be good for your music,” said his favourite, a chain-smoking Lithuanian who loved Rachmaninoff.
So had Nathalie.
“Why don’t you ask her out?” she said.
Ket Siong froze. “Who?”
Nathalie looked patient, though she might as well have rolled her eyes—her expression had much the same effect. “Renee, obviously. You like her, don’t you?”
They were perched by the window of a Pret, where Renee met with Nathalie every morning for a companionable coffee. Ket Siong had started joining them at Renee’s invitation, though he didn’t order anything himself. He seemed to be the only one of the three who was subject to a student’s usual budget constraints.
He stared out at the street, hoping his face wasn’t doing anything unhelpful.
The thing was to act natural.
“Of course,” he said. “We’re friends.”
This time Nathalie actually rolled her eyes. “You’re both hopeless. Look, no matter what, Renee’s never going to make the first move. She always expects people to screw her over, because of her family. It would be nice for her to have a boyfriend who treated her like a person, instead of a trophy. More importantly,” said Nathalie, “it would be nice for me, her best friend.”
“She said I was her best friend,” said Ket Siong, without thinking. It took him a moment to realise how that might sound. “I mean…”
But Nathalie only laughed. “ You’re not her best friend. You’re something else. Think about it, all right? You might be surprised.”
Ket Siong said, “Nathalie. Are you saying…”
It was astonishingly difficult to put the question into words. He tried again. “Do you mean—has Renee said—”
Nathalie was getting up, coffee in hand.
“I’ve said as much as I can,” she said, adding mysteriously, “Girl code. The rest is up to you.”
He was thinking about this conversation with Nathalie while trying to study in his room when the intercom buzzed. He started guiltily. It could only be Renee. She was the main person who visited him at halls.
Renee was crying. She’d walked all the way in her socks.
“I didn’t have time to put my shoes on,” she said. Despite the tears trickling down her face, she was composed, flinty as Ket Siong had never seen her. “Andrew threw my phone out of the window. He said there was no point in me having it, since I never answer my messages. Wait…” Renee’s composure wavered. “Where are you going?”
Ket Siong was putting on his coat. He looked up, puzzled Renee had to ask. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Don’t be stupid,” said Renee. “My neighbour called the cops before she even knocked. Andrew’s probably in the back of a police car getting screamed at by his father right now, if they even let him make the call.”
Despite her reproof, Ket Siong must have done something right. Renee had lost her unearthly calm. She was sobbing properly now, her voice breaking.
“I c-came here because you have my shoes,” she said. “My Converse? I left them here the other day.”
“Those hurt your feet,” said Ket Siong. Renee had dropped by after dim sum with friends, complaining that her shoes chafed. She’d kicked off her Converse and refused to put them on again. He’d gone to her flat and got her another pair of shoes so she could go straight to her next tutorial from his place.
“It doesn’t matter. My feet already hurt,” said Renee. She put her face in her hands.
Ket Siong knelt and peeled her socks off her feet, as gently as he could. Her feet were rubbed raw. She must have been limping for the last part of the walk.
“You can get blister plasters,” he said. “I’ll go to Boots. Do you have your keys?” She didn’t. He handed Renee his phone. “Tell your concierge I’m coming. It’s those black Adidas trainers you like, right?”
“You’re not going now?”
Ket Siong paused while pulling on his shoes. “Do you need anything else?” It was coming on to dinnertime. “I could get a takeaway?”
Renee shook her head. “I don’t want food.” She paused, then said, in a small voice, “I want a hug.”
Ket Siong stopped. Renee wouldn’t meet his eyes. She was curled in on herself, her shoulders hunched. It wasn’t how he was used to seeing her. There was no sign of her characteristic happy confidence, like that of a delightful baby charmed with all the world.
He took off his shoes and, slowly, his coat. Renee was sitting on his bed. She’d never done that before. Neither of them had noticed, what with everything going on.
He sat down on the bed and put an arm around her. Renee turned in towards him at once, burying her face in his shoulder, and then it was surprisingly easy to put his other arm around her. It felt natural to hold her close, as though he had nothing to hide.
For a while they were quiet. Ket Siong thought, I’ll remember this for the rest of my life.
It was Renee who broke the silence.
“Your heart’s beating so fast.” Her voice was a near whisper.
Ket Siong had been hoping she wouldn’t notice. It was typical of Renee to have pointed it out, instead of politely pretending nothing was happening.
It was also like Renee not to leave it there.
“Ket Siong,” she said, in wonder. “Do you like me?”
Now it came to it, it was impossible to lie. Ket Siong nodded.
“Nathalie said so, but…”
Ket Siong’s head came up. “What did she say?”
“She said no boy does the stuff you do for me unless they—you know,” said Renee. “I told her, Ket Siong’s just being nice. We’re friends. She laughed at me,” she added, with a hint of petulance.
“I am your friend,” said Ket Siong, because it was important that she understand that was still true.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Ket Siong thought of Andrew Yeoh, shoving his way into Renee’s home. “I didn’t want to be like the others.”
“You couldn’t be,” whispered Renee. “There’s never been anyone else like you.”
Something in her voice gave him the courage to meet her eyes. Suddenly Ket Siong knew that, incredible as it seemed, Renee wanted him to kiss her—would be disappointed if he didn’t lean in and press his lips to hers.
He’d never yet been able to resist giving Renee anything she wanted.
Their first kiss was everything he had imagined it might be. Even so, it was rapidly overshadowed by the kisses that followed. Renee pressed herself against him, her mouth hungry, as though she had been thinking about this too, had been wanting it just as much.
To the extent thought was guiding him, he was trying to be respectful. It was Renee who lay back, pulling him down onto the bed, Renee who slid her hands under his shirt. She stroked his waist, her touch tentative, then—growing bolder—explored the dip in his lower back. Her clever fingers skimmed up his spine, finding his shoulder blades.
It was starting to feel almost rude keeping his hands to himself. Ket Siong tried putting a hand up under Renee’s blouse and was encouraged by her receptive wriggle. He felt the lace of her bra under his fingertips and reached under it, cupping her breast. The nipple was soft against his palm, but it stiffened as he rolled it between his fingers.
He was lying sideways, so only his top half was pressed against her. Renee tried to tug him closer, but Ket Siong held back, conscious of his erection digging into the mattress. He had a feeling things might be over a little too soon if he got too close, and there were things he wanted to do first. He pushed the fabric of Renee’s blouse out of the way, fumbling with her bra.
He had no experience of taking anyone’s bra off, and figuring it out took an embarrassingly long time. They both started getting distracted, till Renee sat up and took off her blouse, undoing her bra one-handed. Fortunately, she only had to stop kissing him briefly in order to do this.
Ket Siong was vaguely aware he should take his shirt and jumper off—it was what they both wanted—but kissing Renee was taking up all his attention.
Wasn’t there something else he was going to do as well? Something important.
It was bothering him enough that he pulled away from her so he could remember. She looked adorably rumpled, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed.
He hadn’t done anything yet about the fact she’d taken off her bra. That was what he’d forgotten.
She sighed when he lowered his face to her breasts. He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it. Renee let out a stifled moan.
It was at this point that the phone rang.
Ket Hau had chosen Ket Siong’s ringtone for him, in the hope of curing his inattention to his phone. It was like having a car alarm go off in the room. Renee started, kneeing Ket Siong in the chest. He fell off the bed, landing on the floor with a thud that knocked the air out of him.
As he was staring up at the ceiling, dazed, Renee’s face hove into view.
“Oh my God, are you OK?” she said.
He had to strain to hear her over the phone ringing. It had to be a spam call. His family would have texted in advance if they wanted to speak, and it was late in Malaysia. Ma and Ket Hau would be asleep.
Ket Siong grabbed his phone off the desk and rejected the call. It was from a private number.
He collapsed back onto the floor. Renee looked down at him, pink and apologetic.
“Sorry,” she said. “Did I hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” said Ket Siong. “I need to change my ringtone.”
Renee was still topless. He was struggling not to stare. But it didn’t seem to occur to her to feel awkward.
“Why do you even have one of those?” she said, meaning his phone. “It looks like it should be in a museum. You can get a smartphone cheap nowadays.” She paused. “Your birthday’s in May, right?”
“I don’t want a smartphone,” said Ket Siong. “My phone does everything I need it to.”
Despite his best efforts, his gaze had drifted downwards from her face. He only realised when Renee caught him looking. She smiled.
For a moment they gazed at each other, sheepish and delighted.
“Do you want to come back up here?” said Renee. She held out her arms.
With impeccable timing, her stomach let out a loud growl.
Ket Siong sat up. “When did you last eat?”
Renee sighed, slumping against the wall. “You’re not going to interrogate me about my diet now? We could be making out .”
“Did you have lunch?” said Ket Siong, frowning. Renee had a bad habit of skipping meals.
Her shifty look was all the answer he needed. He rummaged around for his shoes, sitting on the bed next to Renee while he put them on.
“Ket Siong…”
“I’ll get us dinner,” said Ket Siong. “Takeaway from the Vietnamese place?”
Renee loved the Vietnamese place. She wavered visibly at the thought of their bún bowls.
“I can get that Thai canned drink you like,” said Ket Siong. “Coconut? Aloe vera?”
“Can I have grass jelly?” said Renee, giving in. “I’ll give you some money—oh, I don’t have my purse. I’ll pay you back.”
Ket Siong shook his head. “I’ll drop by your place and get your shoes. Do you want me to bring back anything else?”
“My purse?” said Renee, without much hope. , not meeting his eyes, “It might be good to have my pyjamas. And a change of clothes? If… I mean…”
“Oh,” said Ket Siong. It was some comfort to know, first, that Renee wasn’t looking at him, and second, that she was also blushing. “That’s—that’s a good idea.”
On an impulse, he swooped down and kissed her. Renee moved at just the wrong time, so they bumped foreheads, and his kiss landed to the side of her mouth, instead of on her lips. But when Ket Siong pulled back, she was smiling.
“Don’t be too long,” she said.
“I won’t,” he promised.