Rent a Boyfriend - Gloria Chao Page 0,24

who I was, so . . .” She looked right at me, and I felt like she somehow knew about me, Xing, and the similarities between our parents. “It was an easy decision, yet it wasn’t, you know?”

I sighed, heavy enough that I was pretty sure Jenn knew I had some experience with this, at least remotely. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I hope they come around. And if not, they don’t deserve to have you in their life.”

Jenn smiled, more open, and she relaxed her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m lucky to have met supportive people like you since the falling-out, which helped a little. I lost so many people over this—not just my parents, but other family who tried to convince me that my mom and dad were doing this because they loved me, and I should try harder to work it out with them.”

“That’s bullshit,” I said, the words flying out before I could think. My hand flew to my mouth, partly because I had said the word “shit” out loud but more because I hadn’t realized I felt this way. I was brought up to believe questioning your parents was immoral, but on the outside looking in, I sided wholeheartedly with Jenn. My parents had never talked to me about homosexuality—maybe because they avoided all politically charged topics, or maybe because we never talked at all. Whatever the reason, I had formed my own opinion over the years, hadn’t flinched when Jenn first mentioned her girlfriend, and now was appalled by her parents’ actions. Of course they were wrong.

And then it hit me.

Why hadn’t I thought more about Xing’s situation when it happened? In the years to follow? I only knew the curses my parents threw. Only their side. I hadn’t questioned their actions because there wasn’t a choice to be made—I simply had to choose them since I lived under their roof.

I never thought my parents could be wrong about anything, but the seed of doubt that had been planted this weekend was sprouting.

I opened my mouth to ask Jenn more, but because we were pulling up to our destination, she said, “My last name’s Green,” implying I should look her up. “Don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything!”

“I’m happy you found Sarah. I wish you two the best, and I really hope your parents come around.”

Jenn pulled me into a hug, and, uncharacteristically, I embraced her back.

Helen was waiting for me, perky as ever in a green and white Dartmouth tee that had been cropped into a cute tank with scissors (and not very sharp ones from the look of it). She waved frantically, and I wondered how she managed to look so cute doing something that would’ve made me look desperate.

She wrapped me in a hug the second my foot touched asphalt. Two hugs in two minutes—that was a record for me.

“Lunch first?” she asked in her singsongy voice, and after nodding, I let her loop her arm through mine. Helen’s touchy-feely-ness had been so off-putting to me at first—ten-year-old me had been so startled the first time she hugged me that I had accidentally smeared ice cream in her hair—but over time I had grown to expect it (and maybe even crave it, though I would never tell her that). She had been the most normal part of my high school experience, and there was something so calming about being back with her.

Helen introduced me to 90 percent of the people who walked by, each with a name and a description—Charlie, the best Christopher Walken impersonator you’ll ever meet; Jake, the best beer pong player. . . . Basically, everyone was the best at something useless. I wondered what I would be, but she just introduced me as Mei, my friend from high school.

She seemed to be the queen of campus. Another Queen Helen. The difference between us couldn’t be more pronounced, like molten lava cake and red bean dessert soup. And it only became starker as we made our way, arm in arm, into the Dirt Cowboy Café, which I originally read (with a zap of panic) as Dirty Cowboy Café. But there weren’t any men in cowboy hats and assless chaps dancing on the bar. Just rows of coffee beans on one side and a display of pastries on the other.

I was initially frazzled by the plethora of options written on the wall, but then I remembered how far I had come to get here today.