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He looked puzzled. “I knocked on the door and introduced myself to your mother? We’ve been chatting for a while now.”

I had taken the shortest route home and hadn’t seen him pass me. Given that I was a decent runner, he must have sprinted here like a bat out of hell. How was he not winded in the slightest?

“Quentin is so nice,” Mom said. “He explained how you rescued him this morning. He came over to say thank-you in person.” She pointed to a fancy-wrapped box of chocolates on the kitchen counter.

“I had to ask around for your address,” Quentin said. “In case you were wondering.”

I rubbed my eyes. I felt like I was going crazy. But I could figure out his little magic trick later, once he was gone.

“I don’t know how you got here before me,” I said to Quentin. “But get the hell out.”

“Pei-Yi! Rude!” Mom snapped.

Quentin made eye contact with me. Maybe he thought I’d stay quiet in front of my mother for the sake of decorum. That a boy’s good name was more important than a girl’s safety. If so, he was dead effin’ wrong.

“Mother,” I said slowly. “While this person seems like a nice young man on the surface, he threatened me during class this morning. He’s not my friend.”

My mother looked at him.

“I’m so sorry!” Quentin cried out, his face stricken. He shot to his feet and lowered his head. “I came here to apologize. And to explain my horrendous behavior.”

“I’d love an explanation,” I said. “Starting with what happened in the park.”

“That was a misunderstanding that got out of hand,” he said. “Those men weren’t even bad people, just ordinary folk I tried to make conversation with. But I accidentally insulted them to such a degree that they sought to teach me a lesson. I can barely even blame them.”

I frowned. At the time, the beating had seemed a bit extreme for a misunderstanding. But then again, I hadn’t turned the other cheek in class myself. I guess he had a knack for pissing people off to the point of violence.

“After they left I picked up your bag, cleaned myself off, and brought it to school,” Quentin said. “I knew you went to the same one as me because I recognized your uniform.”

“It was just a fortunate coincidence I was assigned to your class on my first day,” he went on. “I was so happy when I saw the person who saved my life this morning that I lost my head and made the same error all over again. My English is from a book, and I still don’t know how things really work in America.”

Mom sniffled like she was watching a soap finale.

“I’m sorry to have spoken to you so personally,” Quentin said, his voice cracking.

I bit the inside of my cheek. I wasn’t inclined to believe any of his BS, but he said it in such a heartfelt way that I was actually considering giving him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was just a really, really awkward transplant with no sense of personal space.

That’s when the bastard winked at me.

Fine. Two could play at this game.

“You know what would be great?” I said, putting on a coy expression. “If we could have you and your parents over for dinner. Let us welcome you to the States.”

Quentin raised a black, regal eyebrow.

Got you, jerk. Let’s see if you can handle me blowing your creepstory to the real authorities. If I let his parents know about his behavior, there’d be no way he’d get off scot-free.

“Oh, how lovely,” Mom said, clapping her hands. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

“Uh . . . okay,” said Quentin, looking unsure of himself for the first time ever. “They would also want to give their thanks . . . I guess.”

“But for now you must be going,” I said. “You promised the chess club you’d go out with them to try your first real American hamburger.”

“Yes!” he said. “I am most interested in this thing that you’re talking about.”

As Quentin laced his shoes up in the hallway, Mom pulled me aside.

“Be nice to him,” she said. “Not so harsh, like you always are.”

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