If We Ever Meet Again - Ana Huang Page 0,37

what happened with my dad before. Not even my mom.”

Damn. Blake was about to cry himself. Toughen up, man. “Thank you for trusting me.”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “Thank you for trusting me.”

They sat there on their little corner of the wall, each the keeper of the other’s secrets. Their fight in Macau was a faded memory, but one thing from that night remained crystal-clear in Blake’s mind: the look in Farrah’s eyes when he asked why she cared about him and Mina.

Deep down, he knew what she was going to say. He’d interrupted her with a lie because he was too scared to admit what he’d known all along, but after today there was no use denying it: Blake was in love with Farrah. He was in so deep he didn’t have a devil’s chance of getting out, and what’s more, he didn’t want to.

Blake closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.

I am so fucked.

Chapter Fifteen

The pebbles crunched beneath Farrah’s feet as she and Blake followed Wang laoshi to their hostel in Gubei, a water town at the foot of the Simatai section of the wall. As Farrah expected, they were the last FEAers to arrive.

Farrah was exhausted, but she had enough wits about her to admire the view. Despite being an artificial “ancient” town (modeled after the actual historic town of Wuzhen in southern China), Gubei was beautiful. Its traditional architecture harkened back to the days of imperial China. Stone streets wound past wooden houses with tile roofs and sweeping eaves; small arch bridges curved over narrow canals. As the sun sank beneath the horizon, the lights flicked on, one by one, until the entire town glowed with their warmth. The orange spots danced and shimmered on the water, competing with the pale fire skies for attention.

“Toto, we’re not in Texas anymore,” Blake murmured.

Laughter bubbled up inside her. It was a relief after the heavy emotions of earlier that day. “No, Dorothy, we’re not.”

Farrah was coming to terms with her unrequited feelings for Blake. She wasn’t even mad about what happened in Macau anymore. She’d missed Blake too much during the past week to stay angry with him. Her romantic feelings were one thing; their friendship was another. What happened on the wall was proof of that.

She’d kept her guilt over what happened with her dad a secret for so long that talking about it felt like a thousand-ton weight had lifted off her shoulders.

Farrah had had opportunities to talk about it before, but she’d been too afraid. Afraid people would judge her for being a terrible person and a terrible daughter, afraid they would never look at her the same afterward.

She didn’t have that fear with Blake. Somehow, she knew he would understand.

Blake slanted a glance in her direction. His mouth curled up to reveal those devastating dimples.

“I’m glad we’re talking again,” he whispered. “I missed you.”

There went the damned butterflies. Farrah loved all living creatures, but those butterflies needed to die.

“I missed you too…brother.” She punched him in the shoulder.

Oh god, I did not just say that.

Blake frowned.

By the time they reached their hostel, dusk had settled over the town. Voices filtered through the open doorway of the complex. FEA had booked the entire building, which was large enough to house all 70 students if they crammed four to a room.

Farrah stepped into the courtyard and found the rest of FEA eating dinner at the tables scattered throughout the space. The smell of pork and noodles wafted through the air, eliciting a growl from her stomach. She’d planned on showering before she ate, but she was ravenous.

“Guys, over here!” Courtney waved them over to the group’s table in the back corner.

“Took you guys long enough. We thought you died.” Luke reached for the near-empty plate of dumplings. “I understand why Farrah took so long, but what happened to you?” he asked Blake. “You’re supposed to be in good shape.”

Farrah stuck her tongue out at him. “Thanks a lot.”

“Dude. Blake and Farrah haven’t eaten yet.” Sammy knocked Luke’s hand away.

“I took it easy.” Blake glanced at Farrah as the hostel staff brought out another round of steaming home-cooked food: stir-fried tomato with scrambled eggs, kung pao chicken with white rice, spicy dry-fried green beans, and shredded pork in sweet bean sauce.

Farrah wolfed down her first portion and went for seconds. She’d endured more physical activity today than she had in months. She could eat a cow right now.

The staff watched in stunned silence