Page 5 of The Other Side of Together

I stare at him, then open my mouth, close it and ease back in my chair. “You serious?”

“Dead.”

Lex whistles and shakes his head. “Why don’t you make the boy a monk while you’re at it, Ray?”

I glance at him, then back to Dad. “Like what kind of car?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. Think you can do it?”

“Thinking about it.”

He frowns through a smile and tilts his head. “What’s there to think about? Let a girl mess you up or get a car—easy choice.”

It had been pretty easy so far. Sort of. There’d been a few times when long legs had momentarily blurred my focus, but…only six weeks until graduation. Mei Li and I have only talked in person once. But those 24 notes…and now my number…

“Deal’s on the table. Know what I’d do.” Dad goes back to his noodles as motorcycles and tricked-out cars race through my head. Black car—tinted windows. Nice rims, sweet system. So fast. No big deal. Right? I sneak a glance at Mei Li.

Maybe.

“Hey…uh…Marcus?” Dad interrupts my daydream of Mei Li sitting right next to me in my very fast car. He glances up from reading a text on the phone next to his plate, then holds it up for Lex to read. “Head back to The Clubhouse and get your homework done, how ‘bout? Have a night at home.” He pushes away from the table and Lex wipes his mouth and throws down his napkin, scooting his chair out.

“What’s going on?” I pop another piece of pork into mymouth and look from him to Lex, but Dad throws on his suit jacket, then talks to his wallet while he rifles through cash.

“Another woman disappeared. Number fourteen. Can’t all be runaways.” He shoves his wallet back into his suit pocket, and Lex pats me hard on the back as he passes. “Now, Marcus—home.”

Before my eyes, Detective Ray Miller transforms into RoboCop, and Tuesday night Chinese is officially over. “Any chance of a ride along? I could do chemistry later and—”

“Not a chance. Don’t want you anywhere near this stuff.”

CHAPTER 3

Never had a conversation on the back of a takeout menu, but let’s keep this up. Check every scrap of paper. Never know where I might leave the next note. BTW, looked up the meaning of Mei Li. 1 million points to your parents for their incredibly accurate choice.*1

—M

Igrunt as I lift two bulging garbage sacks and use them to push open the back kitchen door. Light from Chinatown wanders down the alley and gathers in the corners like neon fog. Kind of like the inside of my head when Marcus Miller wanders into it and a fortune cookie wanders into my pocket.

I bite my lower lip and hurl the garbage bags into the dumpster. The sidewalk is dotted with people laughing and talking their way down the street. Guo Mama’s shop window sign says open, but she’s not outside in her bamboo chair or I’d hurry over and tell her all about who I waited on tonight. If she was younger—like sixty years younger—she’d be all over Marcus Miller. Sheisthe only other female he talks to around here. At least in person. He talks to me on paper now.

I close my eyes and replay The Moment from tonight. Theway he kept his eyes on me as he walked to the bathroom. The breeze he left after he dropped the fortune cookie on my tray. Like a gust of wind that stole all the air around me.

Stepping into the shadows, I pull the fortune cookie from my pocket, its wrapper crinkling, the cookie all but dust. I shake the bits into my hand and let the dust fall between my fingers, leaving a white slip of paper behind. My very fortunate fortune.

Dark writing stares up at me when I flip the paper over in my palm. A phone number. Marcus’s? Not possible. Except…it has to be.

Two weeks, twenty-four notes—he’s never hinted that he wants to talk to me in any other way. But then he shows up tonight, looking so good, fresh off the soccer field. His usually shaggy hair pulled back into a tousled half pony. I tried not to look at him, but he didn’t seem to try not looking at me, so I stopped trying. When our eyes met, his flushed face said things and mine responded in pink, all the way up my neck and into my cheeks. Between my pink cheeks and his blue eyes, there were purple streaks in the air throughout the restaurant. No wonder Nick kept giving me weird looks—I was a walking pink and blue tie-dye.

Now, my heart is attempting to leap from my chest and run through Chinatown, bragging to everyone that I am holding Marcus’s phone number. That he gave it to me. But there’s only one person that needs to know right away or she’ll kill me for withholding.

I tug my phone from my back pocket and dial, wiggling my knees to shake off the chilly air and my nerves while I wait for Lin to pick up. But her ever-cheery voice welcomes me to her voicemail and invites me to stay as I glance at the time on my phone. 8:02. She’s probably getting her brother ready for bed.

When the voicemail beeps, I whisper, “You will never guess whose number I have in my hand right now.” I end thecall, clench the phone in my fist, scan the alley and street, then text: re: an incredible pair of legs - and smile, face, eyes, hair, etc - Call me!

When the kitchen door scrapes open, my head snaps up and I shove my phone in my back pocket with Marcus’s number as Nick steps outside. “There you are.” He sways a little before reaching for the brick wall. A loud truck rattles up the street at the end of the alley before Nick speaks again. “I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you look tonight.” His words slur on their way out and ripple in my stomach. I knew he was drunk when he came in tonight. A cloud of booze hung over his usual corner table. “Especially in that apron.”

I take a quick breath to whisk away the Marcus cloud in my head and flip the dumpster lid closed. “Are you making fun of my apron?” I hurry toward him so he can’t sense the excitement I’m leaving in the shadow under my fire escape. I smile at him and take the steps two at a time, reaching for the kitchen door, but he reaches out and tugs on the front of my apron, pulling me to him.

“Not making fun. It’s hot.”

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