AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He makes us sit in the middle of the room for the show.
“Back corner,” I say.
“Too safe,” he says.
“Back corner,” I repeat.
“I’ll drag us to the front row,” he threatens.
I groan.
He pulls us to the middle of the room, picking a half-exposed spot.
Sitting down, my eyes narrow. “If we get picked on, I’m throwing you under the bus.”
Huan shrugs without a care.
Then he whispers in my ear, “I enjoy pushing you, too.” Something in my chest shivers. It’s a promise for later, but also I realize, he does push me. Because of him, I’m laughing and high on adrenaline, wondering if we’ll get called on by the comedians. It’s a massive thrill, juxtaposed by this feeling of deep, inner safety.
Nothing can hurt me.
Huan and I are holding hands under the table.
Sometimes,after Huan has gone to sleep, I look at him.
Not in a creepy, I-want-to-harvest-your-organs kind of way.
More in an I-still-can’t-believe-this-is-happening kind of way.
I’ve got a strong suspicion he does the same to me. From the corner of my eye, randomly, I’ll catch him studying me. I guess we’re both trying to handle this experience introspectively alone, as if going through the details mentally and repeatedly, might keep us whole when we land on the other side of it. Of course, anytime I think about it ending—London with Huan—I get anxious and hating that feeling, I rabbit hole into an activity.
My favourite is asking Huan erratic questions with no context.
We are in bed, and I whisper, “Do you like guacamole?”
He says, “I’m human.”
“What if the avocados are going bad?”
“Then… no?”
“I’m sensitive to ripe avocados. I think they taste funny when most people think they are perfect.”
“This might shock you,” he says, “but I’ve only ever had guacamole a few times.”
I am shocked. My mouth dramatically opens for longer than considered polite. He rolls me over and threatens to tongue my face. When I don’t appear appropriately aghast at this, he goes for it. I evade, and soon we’re both laughing.
Afterwards, he tells me his biological mother used to be a nanny for a family in California before she came over to au pair in Beijing. He also tells me his parents met at a cafe after-hours one weekend. And that his dad went back to the cafe for two weeks, waiting for his mother to come back after that meeting. When she finally did, he asked her out.
The rest of the story is glossed over, especially the part where his biological motherleaves his dad, and the country, and effectively her kids.
“It doesn’t hurt," he says. "I didn’t know her well enough before she left for it to hurt.”
Doesn’t matter, I hold him tight.
“I guess we were both raised by single parents,” he says, as if the similarity has suddenly occurred to him. He adds, “My dad is really happy now and has Preeti.”
“I wish my mom dated,” I tell him.
