Page 25 of The Other Side of Together

Marcus: Seriously?! Arrrgghh!!!! Ask Magic 8 if I should skip with you.

But I don’t need to ask Magic 8 because everything about Marcus is a yes. Exclamation point, exclamation point.

Marcus: Magic 8 said, and I quote, WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME THIS STUPID QUESTION?! So weird. I’ve neverseen that response before.

A selfie of him slumped in a desk chair slides onto the screen and I can’t stop smiling.

Marcus: Obviously, I don’t know how to properly navigate my life without Magic 8. Totally made the wrong choice and came to school. A whole day wasted in foolishness. Regrets are taking me down. Looking for the nearest exit.

I take a selfie of me in my bed, my head turned to the side to hide my bruised cheek and send it to him.

Mei: Rough day for me too. :)

We text for ten more minutes, the grin stretching my face making my jaw ache until Marcus sends an audio clip of the bell ringing, then a hurried, whispered message. “Just gonna say, you look way too cozy in my most favorite hoodie as I go off to face the consequences of my poor life choices in chemistry. But you look way wayyyyyyyyyyy better in it than I ever could so keep wearing it. Also! I might have left something for you at Guo’s. Hint: it’s not me, no matter how bad I wish it was. Later, my favorite delinquent student.”

The audio clip ends, and I hesitate, soaking in the moment and staring at the selfie he sent, memorizing the way his tousled hair sweeps across his forehead, his dark lashes reaching out and drawing me into deep blue. The smirk on the edge of his lips and the symmetrical lines of his face, confidently set into perfection. My eyes blur from staring and I blink and click off my phone, then ease off my bed toward my closet, my whole body sore like it was slammed against a wall. Or a bleeding flower rug.

Shaking my head, I focus on my row of sweaters but catch my reflection in the mirror—bad memories smeared acrossmy face in black and blue, casting a shadow over the morning. I turn away; Nick isn’t going to be part of this day.

I reluctantly slip out of Marcus’s hoodie, his smell refusing to let go of my skin like my head clings to his voice and smile, and I pull on a sweater before sliding his hoodie under my pillow and stepping into my bathroom to brush my teeth and hair. Grabbing a scarf, I wrap it around my neck, wincing when the threads pull at raw skin around my tattoo.

I hurry downstairs and edge through the kitchen where the chefs are a blur of white against stainless steel and clouds of steam hiss from the grills. Servers dart in and out through the swinging door with trays and coffee pots as I slip behind shelves of stacked cans. I push open the back door and smack into a guy holding a sprawling bouquet of red roses.

“Sorry!” I call as I hurry down the chipped steps.

“Mei Li, wait!”

I glance over my shoulder as he takes off his hat.

Xander’s teeth glint in the morning sun slicing through the alley as he holds out the bouquet. “From Nick.”

I stare at the flowers, then turn toward the street again. Flowers won’t fix my eye or Nick’s drinking problem.

“He wanted to deliver these himself but had last-minute business in L.A. and won’t be back for a week or so.”

I dig my nails into my palms and look over my shoulder as he pulls a pink card from between the rose stems. “At least read the note.”

I hesitate before taking a few steps back toward him and snatching the envelope, not breathing as I pull the card out.

Mei Li,

I am so sorry for how I acted last night. I have work to do to become the man you deserve. Please let me try.

Yours, Nick

His name stamps cold spots through my chest, and I press my lips together to stop their quivering. Does he really think flowers will erase last night? Xander holds out the flowers and I take them, choking the stems as I walk toward Guo Mama’s.

I don’t want Nick as “my man.” Not anymore. Alcohol makes people do things they normally wouldn’t. Baba was an alcoholic for years and ruined our life in Taiwan. If Nick keeps drinking, what will he ruin?

I put my palm over the welt on my face and clench my jaw against the memory of last night as I push through Guo Mama’s door. I drop the flowers and card in the garbage before swerving through racks, into the back room, and falling into a chair at the table. Three days ago, Nick was nice. Flirty but harmless. Baba wasn’t hiding something. Marcus was just words on paper and a Tuesday night spark in the restaurant. Now everything’s flipped. And Marcus is throwing sparks all over my life. Sparks I have to keep stomping on so they don’t turn into a wildfire.

Murmuring floats around the corner from the storage room and I turn in my chair to intercept the sound. I catch Mama’s voice and squint, listening to Guo Mama scoff at whatever she said.

“She is not a child any more Jia Li. She can handle the truth.”

“She already hates me. If I tell her, I lose her forever. I should have told her years ago, but I was afraid she’d run away, and I’d never see her again.”

The voices quiet and a door shuts. I stand, ready to bolt, but Mama rounds the corner.

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