If We Ever Meet Again - Ana Huang Page 0,9

with that,” Olivia said loyally.

“Of course not.” Farrah couldn’t tell whether Leo was impressed, amused, or bemused. “You’re ready when you’re ready. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”

Farrah forced a smile. She chose not to mention that, if she had her way, she’d have lost her virginity already. Last year, she came this close to giving it up to Garrett Reiss, the hot junior in her Visual Communication class. After their third date, they made it all the way to his dorm room and to the pivotal moment before Garrett realized he was out of condoms. Before their next date could happen, she caught him playing tonsil hockey with another girl at the movies, and that was that.

Farrah didn’t want or need to wait for marriage or true love (although there was nothing wrong with that), but a girl had to have some standards. Sadly, every time she got close to doing the deed with someone who seemed to meet those standards, something came along and ruined it—wrong place, wrong time, no protection, guy turns out to be an asshole. The list goes on.

At this point, Farrah was never going to have sex. She could picture her headstone engraving already: HERE LIES FARRAH LIN, WORLD’S OLDEST VIRGIN, WHO TRIED TO GIVE IT AWAY BUT COULDN’T. MAY SHE REST IN PEACE.

“So how far have you gone?” Nardo looked intrigued. “Second? Third? Or—” He paused. “Wait. Have you gone past first?”

Luke snorted out a laugh that morphed into a cough when Courtney shot him a dirty look.

“Of course I have,” Farrah snapped. “I’m a virgin, not a nun.”

“Let’s move on. We’ve broken the no-follow-up-questions rule enough tonight.” Blake pulled a jack. “Never Have I Ever.”

Farrah exhaled in relief as everyone refocused on the game. She wasn’t ashamed of her lack of sexual experience, but she didn’t want to be grilled about it all night, either.

Farrah looked across the table and caught Blake’s eye. He gave her a discreet wink.

Huh.

Maybe Blake Ryan wasn’t so bad after all.

Chapter Four

If Blake’s old teammates could see him now, they’d laugh their asses off.

Blake Ryan, studying on a Friday night instead of hitting the town? Unheard of.

While he’d been one of the few football players at TSU who chose a “serious” major (Business Administration) and took academics seriously, he’d never stayed in on Friday nights. Back then, he had appearances to keep up.

But Blake wasn’t a football player anymore, and he was in Shanghai, not Texas. Not to mention, FEA’s curriculum was hard as shit. Four-hour language classes four days a week, on top of daily homework and vocabulary lessons, weekly written/oral exams, and two elective classes conducted all in Mandarin. The teachers, or laoshis, were patient with Blake, who spoke zero Mandarin coming into this program, but he still had no clue what was going on half the time.

He tapped his pencil against the table. “Duibuqi. Dui. Bu. Qi,” he muttered, trying to imprint the characters in his mind. “Sorry” in Mandarin. He could pronounce it fine; writing it out was another matter.

Blake covered the characters in his textbook with one hand and attempted to write them based on memory. He got through the first two and guessed the third. A quick check told him it wasn’t close.

“Dammit.” His mom was right. He should’ve studied abroad in an English-speaking country like England or Australia.

But no, he had to choose China, home to one of the hardest fucking languages in the world.

Blake slammed his textbook shut and rubbed his eyes. His vision was blurry after hours of staring at the lines, curves, and squiggles that made up the Chinese written system. Meanwhile, the clock’s deafening tick echoed in the otherwise empty library, taunting him. Reminding him he’d been at it for two hours and still couldn’t get the easiest vocabulary words right.

“I need a break.”

Now he was talking to himself. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Blake blamed Daniel Craig for his predicament. If Shanghai hadn’t looked so dope in that Skyfall scene, which he watched right before he submitted his study abroad application with his city choice, he wouldn’t be here. He’d be in Sydney, hooking up with surfer babes and living his best life on the beach. Australia was even farther from home than China. It would’ve been perfect.

Stupid Bond fight sequence.

Blake stood to stretch his limbs. He rolled his neck and shrugged out his shoulders. Nothing better than movement after hours of sitting.

The library door opened. Farrah walked in with what looked like a sketch pad and a stack of