Page 58 of Alice Chen's Reality Check

“Don’t forget Science Fair.”

“And Science Fair,” I add. “I had to try so hard. But you—you did it without breaking a sweat. You had everything. Friends. A life. Two parents.” I don’t mean to let that last part slip out, and I put a hand up to my mouth as though I can catch the words and cram them back in.

“Yeah?” Daniel’s voice is soft, understanding. It’s hard to put up a defense to it.

I find myself continuing. “My dad left the summer before I met you,” I say, closing my eyes. The sharp edge I felt in the time directly after has long dulled, but the words still hurt.

“Ah,” he says quietly. “I can see how I’d be annoying to you, when you were going through all that.”

“The great Daniel Midas Cho admits that he can be annoying?” I laugh.

He winces at the nickname, like it’s a sharp jab.

“Happy now? I answered your question.” I lift the corner of a blanket and drape it over him. “Now rest.”

“Mm” is the only thing he says, his eyes shuttering closed. After a minute or two, his breathing evens out.

Now that he’s asleep, I leap off the bed and pace around the room,mapping out my priorities for the rest of the afternoon. At the very least, I need to find some Gatorade for Daniel. After this morning, he’s going to need the electrolytes.

The villa is unusually quiet as I search for the kitchen. There must be one in this sprawling mansion—the catering has to come from somewhere. When I find it, I head straight for the sleek, industrial-sized fridge. It’s fully stocked, but only with alcohol—not a bottle of water or Gatorade in sight.

I sigh and shut the fridge door. If I’m going to get Daniel something that’ll help hydrate him, it’s not going to be from here.

I turn around and nearly collide with Chase.

“Whoa!” he says, steadying me before I fall over. He’s still looking a little green, but he’s upright at least.

“Oh, hey,” I say casually. I try to lean against the wall, also casually. I’m so casual right now and absolutely not hurt that the guy I dated for three years backstabbed me on television. But when Chase sways on his feet, I ask, “Are you okay?”

“Babe. I mean, Alice. I feel terrible about what happened. I mean, I also feel terrible from puking about twenty times, but I feel even worse about what happened with us,” he says, and as much as I want to cast him as the villain of my story, I can tell that he means it.

I’d planned to be calm and collected around Chase, to pretend like I didn’t care. But now that I’m alone with him, the words tumble out of me. “Why. God,why, Chase? Why would you do this to me?”

Chase winces like I sucker-punched him. “I don’t know. I didn’t mean to. I know it isn’t an excuse, but I was just so drunk. Bryan kept taking shots with me, and he was asking me all these questions about—” He looks away from me.

“About what, Chase?”

“About our relationship! Okay? He was saying all this stuff about how he couldn’t believe we were together. That you’ve got your life together and I’m kind of a fuckup.”

“He said that about you?” I say, shocked.

“I mean, he didn’t call me a fuckup, but I could tell that’s what he meant.” He smiles sadly. “I bet that’s what you think of me, too.”

“I don’t—” I shake my head. “I don’t think of you as a fuckup.” But then I’m remembering all the times I’ve had to pay Chase’s credit card bills for him, and how I had to explain the concept of jury duty to him after I realized he’d been recycling his summonses. It’s like he doesn’t live in the real world. And normally, that would have consequences. But I was always there to cover for him. Maybe Chase isn’t a fuckup, but I’d always felt he relied on me more than I was able to rely on him.

Chase says, “It’s okay, Alice. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I was lucky to have you in my corner. I know you cared about me. But I don’t think you’ve ever really taken me seriously—I mean,Idon’t even take myself seriously—but you’re a serious person. So is Daniel. I’ve seen the way you and Daniel talk to each other. It’s like watching two supercomputers do space math together.”

“That’s not really a thing—”

“Exactly. Daniel probably knows that’s not really a thing too.” He sighs. “Look, I know what I did wasn’t okay.”

“It really wasn’t,” I agree.

“But I was having so much fun with Selena, and then—” Chase groans. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know.” That was the problem. Chase never looked before he leapt. Probably because for his whole life, his parents cleaned up after him. And then, when we started dating, I took over that role.

I remember when my mom said Chase made me complacent. I didn’t get what she meant by that, but I think I do now. When you spent your childhood translating for your parents at school, at the doctor’s office, and even at the grocery store, it’s almost second nature to take care of other people. To shoulder responsibilities that you have no business taking on. Helping Chase out had come so easily, and I’d thought that was just what being in a relationship meant. But I never felt like I could truly lean on him the way he leaned on me.

---