this down somewhere? It was like my fifth class, 5.317: How to Lie to Your Parents. (See what I did there? What 5.317 spells upside down? TIM the Beaver would be proud.)
I deflected. “Did I tell you that Billy had to go home for a while because his grandmother got sick with pancreatic cancer? I hope everything’s okay.” And as soon as I said it, I kicked myself because I didn’t know anything about pancreatic cancer, and now I was going to have to do some in-depth research.
“They shouldn’t have told him. Especially with exams coming up.” As she shut the drawer, I heard something fall off the dresser. “Mei, what’s this?”
Since my back was to her, I didn’t know what she was talking about, and there were a hundred things she could be holding that would be a firehose to my web. Maybe I peed a little again.
I turned slowly in an attempt to be nonchalant and ended up moving at way-below-normal speed. So I quickened slightly to make up for it and ended up all jerky and awkward turtle. She was holding my mascara and eyeliner, which I had taken out to make sure I still knew how to do stage makeup.
I didn’t know how MIT’s Association of Taiwanese Students (ATS) had found out about my Chinese dance background, but when they had asked me to be the entertainment for their night market event next week, I had agreed immediately. I felt such a pull to ATS, to Chinese dance, almost as if I was desperate to hang on to the bits of culture I still loved.
But even though no one appreciated a good night market more than my mother, she couldn’t know about this, especially since she was still reeling from my 72. (I had caught her snooping in that drawer again.)
Then I realized why her eyes were so wide. She was jumping to conclusions, that I had a secret boyfriend. Which . . . well . . . crap. I had to steer her away from that, too. I wasn’t doing anything wrong—well, not really—but if she started asking me questions about whether or not I had talked to the Japanese boy, it would get ugly, fast.
“It’s Nicolette’s,” I said as calmly as I could. “You can throw it to her side. She uses up all the space in here.” I hoped it wouldn’t land in a chlamydia hot spot.
As my mother muttered about bribing the dean to swap my roommate, I had to calm my nausea by telling myself everything was fine; the lies weren’t crumbling around me.
Which was, you know, just another lie to add to the bunch.
Voicemail from my mother
Mei! I spoke with Mrs. Huang yesterday. She said Eugene is excited to meet you. He actually thinks you’re pretty! You need to snatch him up before it’s too late. Before your eggs get cold. You’ll be thirty before you know it!
Call your poor mǔqīn back. Why you never pick up? I know you’re not in class! Are you hiding something??
CHAPTER 18
NIGHT MARKET
AS XING AND I WAITED in the mall arcade for our turn at Dance Dance Revolution, I marveled at how people (me included) were willing to pay to jump around in a predetermined order.
The dim room reeked of pubescent teenagers. As I inhaled the pomegranate scent of my hand sanitizer, I was weighed down by the stack of quarters in my pocket and the baggage on my proverbial shoulders.
The teenage boy on the machine was sailing through level maniac, his legs flailing to the beat. The noise gave me the courage to ask Xing, “How did you know Esther was worth fighting for?”
He sighed—loud, long, and heavy. “I used to think of relationships the way Mom and Dad do—as a business transaction. They see it analytically, whether people match on paper, with the only goal being to raise a healthy family. Mom’s own parents used a matchmaker. More practical than emotional . . .” He trailed off.
“But then you fell in love with Esther,” I stated even though it should’ve been obvious. But I said it anyway, just in case, because in the back of my head, there it was, still niggling—had Xing chosen Esther just to piss my parents off, the way he had told them he was going to try to be the next Wang Leehom even though he couldn’t sing?
Xing nodded sadly, as though falling in love with her was weary, not a blessing.
I asked the question that had