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Huan thanks Floyd, and everything happens so fast that before I know it, I’m moved into the other room. My body's been going on auto-pilot for this last part. I'm nodding and mute.
“Enjoy resting,” Huan says. His professionalism is neatly fitted back into place.
“You too,” I say with a placid smile.
He walks away.
I don’t watch him for long.
TWENTY-THREE
Sitting in my new room, I call Reena. She answers on the first ring, but I can tell she is spent after a whole day of cooking disasters. She doesn’t want to talk about it. Reena wants to listen to everything that has happened to me, so I finally tell her about Huan in the most casual voice I can muster. As if what is happening between us is cool and wacky fun. Not that I want to lie about my feelings, but it's that I don't want to examine them. I can’t have my best friend hold up a mirror to my experience, because I am not ready to see it. Not yet.
After Reena’s initial shock, she dives into details.
“So, he’s not just a bodyguard,” she says. “He’s been in one of those special units who’ve dealt with cartels, gangs, and like crazy stuff?”
“Are we seriously talking about his employment history? Because I told you about mutual shower masturbation…”
“Yes, yes. We’ll get to that later. But not me obviously thinking way too ahead, because if you two ever get together, and his past comes back to haunt him, and you have to go into witness protection… How will the two of us communicate?”
OMG. “Obviously, we can all go into witness protection together.”
With no hesitation, Reena says, “Yeah, I’m down.”
“We’ll go somewhere warm.”
“Forever vacaaaaaaay.”
“And the government will fund our life, so I won’t have to think about acting anymore. Because I’m sure that’s how it works. We wouldn’t need jobs, right?”
She scoffs. “They expect us to flee gangs and get a job? Preposterous.”
I’m sprawled on the bed, cradling my cellphone to my ear, still wearing my outside clothes because I haven’t undressed since we got back to the hostel. “I bet the government gives options. Pick from a beach life, a snowy resort, or a cute apartment in Europe.”
“Last one,” we say at the same time.
“Should we”—Reena’s voice goes conspiratorial—“like already witness a crime somehow?”
“I’m searching up ‘How to enter a witness protection program' as we speak.”
“As you do that,” Reena says, “let us circle back to you not wanting to think about acting. Anything you want to talk about, Komal? Because Nim and I want to make sure everything is okay with you. You’ve really been trying to make London such a great adventure, but in a way where you sound like maybe you’ve got no other adventures coming up.”
Did I let that slip about acting? I did. Maybe it's because that deadline is getting closer. Or I’m also tired of pretending I don't have these anxieties and don't want to keep hiding them from my friends. “I’ve got a lot to talk about with both of you when I get back.”
“You better,” she threatens.“And also about Huan, I won’t joke this time. How do you really feel about him? Even if I wished for it, I never thought you would get together.”
Before I can respond, there’s a knock on my door.
“Who is it?” Reena asks through the phone.
“Komal.” That’s the voice at my door.
“It’s him,” I hiss. “Huan.”
Butterflies swarm my stomach.
Reena squeals. “It’s so late! Fun things happen when it’s late! Okay, I’m hanging up. We’ll talk after!”
