Rent a Boyfriend - Gloria Chao Page 0,14

when I peeked over at him, he was smiling.

“Thanks,” he said, then shifted his gaze upward. “And thanks for coming here with me,” he said to the sky, slightly shy and completely adorable. “I just found it the other day and it was too cool to keep to myself.”

Part of me hoped he had wanted to show one shy, non-blond girl in particular, while the other half dreaded it.

He dropped his gaze back to me. “Now that I’ve told you about my dreams—”

“Sorry, I’ve got to go,” I blurted out, checking my wrist for the time even though there was no watch there.

I wasn’t ready to tell him. Talking about my secret dreams brought them closer to reality, which could never be. And that included him. No Japanese boys, I heard in my head, my mother’s words like nails on a chalkboard.

“Where’re you headed? I’ll walk with you,” he offered.

“Sorry. I’m in a hurry.” I was already one foot out the door.

“When will I see you again?”

“When there’s another student in distress, needing saving,” I joked, because it was easier.

“Then I’ll be sure to start telling the MIT sex joke constantly. Maybe incite some fights over whether the Logs or the Chorallaries are better—or maybe just commit all-out blasphemy by saying a capella sucks.”

I faux gasped, and we shared one of those conspiratorial looks that happens when you find that rare person who shares your sense of humor.

I punched him on the arm lightly (because I’m awkward) and left promptly (because I’m a coward). It was even harder for me to do than return to my chlamydia-infested room.

Voicemail from my aunt Yilong

Mei Mei! Nǎinai and I are coming to visit, and I have a surprise for you! Get us some egg tarts from Chinatown, okay? Twenty or twenty-five of them. For Nǎinai. Not me, of course. I’m on a diet. Tee-hee-hee-hee . . .

CHAPTER 8

ARCHDUKE FERDINAND

EVEN THOUGH EXAMS WERE COMING up and my parents believed schoolwork was of utmost importance, Nǎinai (my father’s mother) was the exception. So when she and my aunt Yilong descended upon Massachusetts for a surprise visit, I was expected to drop everything—which is how I found myself at home dragged down by my textbooks and all my secrets. My family couldn’t know about the Porter Room, or how I’d fallen asleep in several biology lectures, or that I had freaked out over pee and flaky cheese.

And . . . I hadn’t backed out of teaching dance. In fact, I had already taught two Sundays’ worth of classes, and I’d never felt so alive, so in the exact place I was supposed to be, wondering why I had missed out for so long. Which only made it worse.

I needed the dance classes more than I needed their approval and what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, right? I could do this—keep it from them, keep everyone happy. There were good secrets and bad, and this was a good one, right? Those existed?

“Mei Mei!” Aunt Yilong called in her high-pitched voice, squeaking on the last syllable and clutching me to her chest. I coughed out her sickly sweet perfume and rubbed my tongue against my palate to get rid of the acrid taste.

She pushed me back for a closer inspection. “Look at you! I can’t believe you’re in college already! And at seventeen—bùdéliao!” I smiled, my lips lifting with my spirits.

But then she kept going. “Hmm, maybe some more exercise though? Getting chubby.”

I clenched my teeth, unable to thank her with the obedient, Yes, Aunt Yilong, xièxie.

Instead, I turned my attention to Nǎinai, who was seated at the dining room table with her trademark walker beside her.

“Mei Mei, eat your vitamins,” she said.

I bowed slightly. “Yes, Nǎinai, xièxie.”

Aunt Yilong pushed a grocery bag toward me, excitement raising her voice even higher. “I brought you a present.”

“Xièxie, you shouldn’t have.” I reached into the bag and pulled out a dark red sweaterdress large enough for Yilong and plain as could be—rounded neckline, long sleeves, and a single seam at the waist. At my aunt’s urging, I pulled it on over my clothes. The hem pooled on the floor and the chest area was at my waist.

To end this, I said, “Bù hao yìsi.” The phrase is used as a formal version of “thank you,” but literally translated means “I’m embarrassed.” I chuckled at my own joke, then felt completely alone.

Aunt Yilong stowed the now-empty plastic bag so it could make the trip back to her hoarder’s den. When