Page 64 of The Other Side of Together

“Tell Marcus. His dad—”

“Can never know,” I break in, lifting my head. “You know why.”

She drops to her knees in front of me, squeezing my hand. “You know I love you. But part of being your best friend is telling you when you’re being stupid. And you are. In two major ways.” She holds up her finger. “Number first: he’s about six foot two, I think, but you’ve been all over those measurements, so you tell me. His legs are objects of greatness, his face was sculpted by the gods, and his body is—”

“Stop, Lin.” I close my eyes, then snap them open when a too-clear picture of a shirtless Marcus rises in my head.

“That’s what you had, and you can still have it. Unless you go to L.A. You had your first fight, not a breakup. One word from you and he’ll be here, not me. And while I love hanging out with you, I won’t make out with you. You’re beautiful and everything, just not my type.”

“In this easy solution, does Nick magically disappear?” I sit up and slump against my headboard, my body heavy. “If I don’t do what he asks, people get hurt.”

“What do you think is going to happen to you if you go with him?You’llget hurt, and not in the emotional, heartbreak kind of way. Don’t even try to deny it. You know I’m right. And I’m so done talking about him. It’s like pouring slime into my ears.”

“Let him finish me off.”

She rolls her eyes and pretends to vomit on my carpet. “You’re being super dramatic. Ever thought there might be other options? Like running away?”

“And go where?”

Lin throws out her hands. “Anywhere. Somewhere Nick’s not.” She taps her chin and looks at the ceiling. “You can leave—start a new life. Avoid getting raped. Or worse.” She grabs my hands. “You’ll be safe. I mean, you won’t get the boy, but you won’t be with Nick. And I’ll know where you are. We can talk every day. And when the coast is clear, and the dust is settled, I’ll tell The Boy where you are, and he’ll come for you.”

The thought sinks in and spreads through me, taking root. This could work. I won’t have to be with Nick. Not here, not in L.A. Except. I have about $350, a fake passport, and no driver’s license.

I look at her hand, then her, and we sit in the idea until Baba’s voice calls for me. We look at each other before I hesitantly push myself off the bed and step to the door, opening it just a crack. “Yes?”

“Hurry up, Mei Li—Chaz is here to take you to the airport.”

I grip the doorknob as reality pours through the crack like liquid steel, hardening my insides. I turn to Lin. “What time is it?”

She checks her phone. “Almost four…”

Nick said six.

Baba’s voice booms up the stairs. “Mei Li! Now!”

I close my eyes, mentally say goodbye to Marcus, then grab my duffle. Avoiding Lin’s eyes, I open the bag and nestle Magic 8 inside before zipping it and hauling it onto my shoulder. It’s 500 pounds of fear and regret, just like my feet, my head, my heart.

Lin stands between me and the door. “I’ll go downstairs, create an emergency. We need to figure out a plan.”

Baba’s footsteps pound up the stairs and I jerk into motion, grabbing Lin’s hand. “Walk me out. I’ll text you on the way to the airport.”

I stiffen in my seat as the plane dips into a right turn and descends toward L.A. I don’t want any part of me to touch Chaz on my left or Xander on my right during this flight that can’t possibly last long enough. The last time I was on a plane was from Taiwan to America. I hadn’t known what was ahead of me then and wish I didn’t now. This plane couldn’t crash hard enough to satisfy me. Couldn’t find a hole black enough to slip through and disappear.

When the fasten seatbelt sign went off earlier, I’d locked myself in the bathroom, connected to wi-fi, and texted Lin. We’d hurried through possible escape plans until Chaz had knocked and called my name. I’d stashed my phone in my bra and zipped my jacket. It’s stayed zipped, heavy with unread texts full of ideas that could get me out of here.

I wish Mama had stopped this, but I guess whatever had been so important that night in Guo Mama’s backroom wasn’t important enough to actually do anything about it.

There’s a car waiting for us when we land, and I expect it to take us to the hotel, but it pulls in front of a warehouse surrounded by a chain-link fence. My heart pounds in protest until Chaz talks to me over his shoulder from the passenger seat.

“Nick has something for you to wear to the gala. He’s being generous, so take advantage of this rare moment.”

“There are benefits to playing nice,” Xander adds, and I throw open my door and get out of the car, slamming it to trap Xander’s words inside. No amount of money or fancy clothes could make being with Nick worth it.

Xander and Chaz jump out of the car and walk on either side of me toward a warehouse door. I wait for them to slip a collar over my head and attach a leash. Nick must have told them I’m a flight risk. He’s not wrong. But it’s not just a risk—I’m going to disappear as soon as I have a private moment to call Lin.

An elderly woman bows and tells Chaz and Xander in Mandarin that they can wait on the sofa before leading me through a towering maze of boxes and garment bags. Her enthusiasm bounces off the metal walls as she slides open a large door and scurries into a room made almost completely of mirrors. There are dozens of me, each a small, expressionless puppet on invisible strings.

“Mr. Nick picked a dress just for you. He says it would fit your curves perfectly.” Without looking at me, she ushers me into a drafty, flimsy dressing room, then looks at me expectantly, motioning for me to undress.

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