“Where do you need to go?” he asked. “I can give you a ride.”
“You think I’d trust riding with you?”
“I only crashed because I didn’t want to hit you.”
I was about to scoff when I noticed the bloodstain on his shirt. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
He glanced down. “Oh that?” he said sheepishly. “That’s not blood, it’s ketchup.”
I’d never heard the word before. In Cantonese, it sounded similar to... “Eggplant sauce?”
“Tomato sauce. Say, have you had french fries before?”
No, and I didn’t have time to ask what that was, either. “I have to go.”
I sprinted to the top of the hill two steps at a time. From there, I had no idea whether to go left or right. I picked left, walking with more confidence than I felt.
Soon, a bicycle squeaked behind me. “Wait!”
What an exasperating boy, I thought. “Why are you following me?” I asked. “I told you, I don’t need a ride.”
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
My nostrils flared. “I’ve... I’ve been here a hundred times,” I lied.
“Oh? Then you know you’re walking toward a dead end.”
Damn it, he was right.
He gave me a sidelong glance. “You’ll want to turn left, go down the next hill with the snaky roads. There’s a bunch of warehouses on the right—the last one is Chan Kiu Factory.”
Chan Kiu Factory! I looked up at him, startled. “How did you know—”
“It’s written on your apron. Do you work there?”
What could I say? I straightened, clinging to my dignity. It was bad enough that Gu Ma didn’t want anyone knowing I was her niece, but she hadn’t even bothered to give me directions.
“I’m a seamstress,” I replied. “It’s my first day.”
“What’s your name? My mum plays mahjong with your boss sometimes. The next time they see each other, she’ll ask Madam Chan to be extra nice to you.”
“Don’t bother, I have to go. I’m late because of you.”
The ruder I was, the wider his grin grew. “All right then, I’ll look for your charm. When I find it, we’ll meet again. What do you say?”
“I’d say you’re full of big talk.”
He saluted me. “I’ll see you around, little hwamei.”
Hwamei! Had he heard me whistling at the birds?
I glanced back, but he was cycling down the stairs, whistling as he rode.
A smile touched my mouth. I let it go, promptly forgetting about the boy as I sprinted to the factory. Hong Kong had hundreds of thousands of people. What were the odds I’d see him again?
Chapter Ten
I arrived over an hour late. In spite of my apologies and the bruises on my leg from being shoved, it was clear I’d earned no sympathy from Mrs. Dang. She was older than Ah Ma, her face puckered with deep long grooves and more wrinkles than a dried jujube. I could barely see her eyes or make out her lips, but her hands moved energetically while she spoke.
