Rent a Boyfriend - Gloria Chao Page 0,13

now?” I sputtered. “I mean, yeah, I’m free.” And finally I removed my foot from my mouth. “No better time for some punting.” I gestured for him to lead the way.

We walked to Building 6, then ducked down a small, abandoned hallway that was empty except for a rusty metal door.

“Are you ready?” he asked, the excitement dancing on his face.

“Um, depends what’s on the other side. I might need a minute if this is a Narnia-type situation.”

Darren chuckled. “In our dreams.”

He reached an arm up to push the door open, and when the navy blue of his shirt neared his face, his eyes turned darker—more mysterious somehow. Anticipation thrummed through my veins, and for a second I let my imagination run wild with possibility.

The door opened to reveal a secret outdoor garden. The courtyard was filled with golden sunflowers crammed so tight they blended together.

He swept a hand in a princelike gesture, and I stepped over the threshold into another world.

“What is this place?” I asked, my lips turning up into the grin reserved for after-midnight spoonfuls of Nutella.

“Whatever we want it to be.”

“A place to dream,” I answered immediately. And for a moment I let my dance-studio pre-prima-ballerina dreams back in. Let myself enjoy that I was in this secret garden between lectures and that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to enjoy Darren’s company for a few brief minutes. “Do you know what you want to major in?” I asked as I walked among the flowers, touching a petal here, a stem there.

“I’m thinking Course Seven,” he said, using the MIT lingo for biology. Everything here was numbers—the buildings, the courses, the majors; we had our own language.

I pressed my lips together, holding back. If I told him I was also going to be Course Seven, he would expect us to gush about biology together, in which it would inevitably be revealed that I actually hated it. Then I would have to explain why I had to major in it when it put me to sleep, and that was a can of carnivorous worms I had to keep sealed or else the worms would eat my sanity.

Oblivious to my inner flailing, he continued. “I’m thinking about going into academia in the future, but I’m open to other options.” I briefly wondered if my mother valued money or prestige more: Professors made less but were respected, especially in Chinese culture. “My parents will probably freak out that I could end up anywhere—they want me close to home—but oh well.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “We’ll figure it out.”

I refrained from asking more about his parents. I couldn’t bear to hear how much easier things were for him. “What do you like about biology?”

“I’ve always been curious about how living things work, starting when I was a five-year-old kid with a My Body and Me kit. Man, I used to carry that thing around with me everywhere.” The faraway look in his eyes made me want to see what he was seeing, maybe absorb some of that dreaminess for myself. “I also love that research is a puzzle, and finding the solution sometimes involves unconventional thinking and out-of-the-box experiments. Like, apoptosis was discovered while tracking C. elegans cells through development without knowing what kinds of interesting things they would find. Then they worked backward to figure out the genetics. I can’t think of anything cooler than that.”

I nodded, thinking about how inspiring it must’ve been to be at MIT when Bob Horvitz was recognized for his groundbreaking work. “And they won a million-dollar award for it. Not too shabby.” Why did I have such a hard time with a subject that yes, was kind of amazing when described by Darren this way? Was it because I knew what was at the end of the tunnel, waiting for me, and I couldn’t separate my doctor future from the rest of it? “Nobel Prize aside, you don’t think it’s frustrating that you can try for years to find the answer to one thing, only to get the answer to something else? It feels so”—I waved a hand in the air, trying to locate the right word—“unpredictable.”

He shook his head. “It’s exciting. An adventure. A quest to find the answers to life’s mysteries.” He gestured grandly with his arms, trying to illustrate the expansive unknown with wide circles.

Seeing his fervor, I blurted out, “I love your passion.” As soon as the words were out, I regretted it (like usual).

But