Page 54 of Five

“What?” she says, her voice low and throaty. Like she needs to clear it. But that’s not what that voice means. She’s going to cry. I know this, because I know her.

“When my grandfather first showed up during my summer camp.”

“What?” This time the word comes out with a long breath of air. Like she can’t decide if she’s relieved or not.

“Damian Li? Remember him? He used to come around a lot when we were little.”

Rory swallows hard and nods her head. “OK,” she says, giving me permission to keep going.

“I went to Hong Kong that year.”

But she’s already shaking her head no before I finish my sentence. “No. I got a new kitten that year. Pretty Paws. I remember that summer vividly and you went to the University of Southern California for—”

“I lied, Rory. To you. To my mom and dad. To everyone.”

The look on her face is crushing. She deflates before my eyes. Her shoulders slump and even in this low light—just a bit of moonshine coming in the big window above her bed—I can see them get glassy.

“It was a lie. All of it was a lie. My grandfather picked me up at the airport every summer in a private jet and took me to Hong Kong.”

“But your mom and dad? They’d know—”

“They didn’t know.”

“So you… you just lied to everyone?”

It’s my turn to nod my head. “I did.” And then I correct that last part. “We did.”

“Why?” It comes out loud now. Incredulous and disbelieving.

I am not the person she thinks I am. And I have never actually been that person. “Because I was his only grandson. He’s half-Chinese, you know that, right?”

“I…” She stammers, caught off guard with my question. “I never thought about it, I guess.”

“No. Most people wouldn’t. But it means something where he comes from. To be this thing. To be me.” I get up off the bed and take a step towards her.

“I know what he does,” Rory says, her head tilting up to keep my gaze locked in hers as I approach. “I know who he is.”

“Then you can see where this is going,” I say, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her close one last time. I let her sink into me and rest her head against my chest. I hold this moment in my mind. Brand it into my brain. And it sears me. It hurts me to say the words that have to come out next.

I open my mouth to speak. Because it has to be said and I can’t stand the crushing pressure that feels like the ceiling is coming down on top of me. About to squeeze me until I die. Flatten me into nothingness. I can’t stand the uncertainty, either.

“Do you know why I kept those stars above my bed all these years?” Rory beats me to it and her question is so unexpected, I pause. Then the pause turns into a full stop.

“Why?” I ask, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.

“Because I fell in love with you that day.”

I smile, picturing us.

“You were eight that fall.”

“And you were on your way as well,” I say. Our birthdays are only a few months apart, despite the fact that I was always a year ahead of her in school.

“We met at our usual place after school.”

“The front stoop, out by the yard gates.”

“You always got there first, but not that day,” she says.