Page 63 of Salty, Spiced, and a Little Bit Nice

But even though my parents had placed a slightly twisted importance on the tradition, I’d always associated Lunar New Year with joy, and a fun day of celebration with family and friends. So when Jenna sent digital flyers about the annual parade and festival happening in Chinatown to our WhatsApp group chat, we immediately made plans to check it out.

It was a gloomy Sunday, but not even the imposing gray clouds looming above could stop the hundreds of people crowding Port Benedict Chinatown. It stretched between three streets in the middle of the city center, about fifteen minutes’ walk from the Plaza, marked at the entrance with a magnificent red gateway and two stone lions on each side. Rows of Asian restaurants, grocery stores, hairdressers, and cute boutiques lined the streets, with colorful signs in Mandarin, Japanese, or Vietnamese.

Right then, the street fair was in full swing. Bright red-and-yellow lanterns hung above, strings of firecrackers were draped across shop entrances, and the various stalls selling food, drinks, and decorations were all packed with customers. All the wonderful festivities should have brought back some fond memories of home, but somehow, this year, I couldn’t get into the right frame of mind to enjoy the celebration.

Kim and Jenna were walking ahead of me, and I could hear Jenna telling Kim about the various Lunar New Year festivals they had in Australia, in her hometown of Melbourne.

“There’d be one every weekend in different suburbs,” she was saying. “But the biggest one is in Melbourne Chinatown, where they’d have the dragon dance parade. The whole of February would be chock-full of these festivals and eating a shitload of food.” She sighed. “I miss it. My mother wanted me to come home this year, because we had relatives visiting from Singapore and Malaysia, but work has been super busy.”

“That sounds awesome,” Kim said. “I wish I’d grown up with those traditions. My grandparents don’t really celebrate them anymore. We didn’t even do red packets when I was growing up. Hey, maybe we should make this our new annual tradition!”

They continued chatting, and I heard Kim telling Jenna about an artisan brand of hand-dyed alpaca yarn she’d found online. I zoned out after a while, as my mind drifted back to Alec’s last message. The revelation was too much for my brain to comprehend. And I hadsomany questions. Why hadn’t he said those words when I confessed my crush to him all those years ago? Why was he so cold and aloof when we were younger? I’d been obsessing, analyzing, and re-analyzing his five short, devastating words, alternating between disbelief, thrill, anger, and finally defeat, because after all these years, he’d obviously gotten over his crush, since he was now interested in someone else, wasn’t he?

“Whoa.” Jenna gasped loudly, stopping in her tracks, causing me to bump into her. “Ellie, is that Chris Pratt?”

I blinked. “Huh?”

She pointed to a man standing at one of the stalls on my right. “There. Wait, it’s Chris Pine.” She squinted her eyes, presumably to get a better look at whoever she was looking at. “No, hang on, it’s the first Captain America himself.”

“What?” I craned my neck, as Kim let out a snicker. Realizingthat I’d fallen for their joke, I rolled my eyes. “Ha-ha, hilarious, you guys.”

“You’ve been off in la-la land for the past ten minutes.” Jenna grinned, as we continued walking. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

We stopped at a bubble tea stall, and I waited to answer as we ordered our drinks. “Sorry. I had a late night,” I said. “Anyway, what were you saying about the artisan yarn, Kim?”

“I’m stocking them, they’re coming next week. But never mind that, how are things with Signor Building Expert?”

“Nowhere. Confusing. He’s interested in someone else, remember?”

The bubble tea lady called out our number, then handed us Kim’s brown sugar milk tea, Jenna’s lychee oolong tea, and my oat milk tea.

“He’s not,” Kim insisted. “I’m even willing to bet my entire shop inventory, including my brand-new expensive artisan yarn. That’s how confident I am.”

“You’re wrong. I saw pictures of them looking very friendly together.”

“Show me.”

I pulled out my phone, thumbed open his account, and showed them photos of Alec and the cute brunette.

“That’s not her,” Kim immediately said.

“How do you know? He liked all her most recent posts.”

“I liked all your posts,” Kim pointed out. “Doesn’t mean I’m interested in you. He could just be a very supportive friend, like me.”

Jenna was scrolling through the photos. “They’re mostly group pictures, and she’s not overly touchy-feely with him. I don’t think there’s anything between them.”

“Then why did he tell me he liked someone else? I don’t understand.”

“I told you already,” Jenna replied. “Self-preservation.”

I decided I needed to tell them both because I had spent way too much time overanalyzing my own thoughts. “Something happened.”

Kim’s eyes widened. “Between you and Signor Hottie?”

Jenna looked excited. “Something of the sexy, moaning, groaning kind?”

Sipping my tea absentmindedly, I told them everything, including his last text messages. Jenna was smiling from ear to ear when I finished, while Kim was watching me with a shrewd look on her face.

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