Page 48 of The Friend Zone Experiment

“Maybe it’s something to do with the family?” Nathalie chewed her lip, her brow furrowed. “But what could they evenfind to disapprove of? You are hot, you are successful, you are smart, you are even nice. It is the whole package. Are they racist against Singaporeans? Is that a thing?”

“Nathalie,” said Renee.

There must have been a note in her voice that warned Nathalie to lay off. She looked Renee in the face and went quiet.

Renee wasn’t sure she’d be able to explain without embarrassing herself again. She was already maxed out on humiliation after the morning’s shenanigans. But she owed Nathalie—for this day, and every other time Nathalie had come through for her.

“It meant a lot,” Renee said, with difficulty. “Having you and Ket Siong with me today. Having your support. That’s what I need right now. I need him to be a friend. Not a complication.”

Not someone she’d be tempted to trust too much, who would become a vulnerability her family could exploit. That was all love had ever been for her.

But a lump had risen in her throat, preventing her from saying any more. Renee swallowed.

Nathalie got it, anyway.

“OK,” she said. “OK.” She put her arms around Renee. “I’m sorry.”

After a moment, Renee relaxed into the hug. She buried her face in Nathalie’s shoulder.

“Is that a new scent?” she said. “What happened to Chanel No. 5?”

Nathalie had already had a signature scent by the time Renee met her, at the advanced age of twenty-one. Renee remembered how impossibly cool she’d seemed then. That was one thing that hadn’t changed.

“I’m branching out,” said Nathalie. “This one’s Citrus Noir by Molinard. Notes of calamansi and incense.”

“It’s nice,” mumbled Renee. “You smell nice.”

They started laughing and broke apart, wiping their eyes, and then Renee’s Uber came, so that was where they left it.

Then

Ket Siong’s phone started ringing again as he left the Vietnamese restaurant with the takeaway he’d promised Renee. The thought of her waiting for him in his room sent excitement shivering over his skin.

He’d already gone by her flat and picked up her things—her favourite trainers, jeans, a top and a jumper she often wore, sweatshirt and tracksuit bottoms for sleeping in. He fumbled in his coat pocket for his phone, trying not to drop anything.

It was a private number calling, again. Strange. Maybe it was important. Ket Siong accepted the call.

“Siong?” said his brother’s voice. “You OK? You didn’t pick up earlier.”

Ket Siong blinked. “I didn’t realise it was you. Did you change your number?”

“Oh. No, I just changed the settings,” said Ket Hau. “Can you speak? Are you at home?”

“I’m walking back to my place,” said Ket Siong. He checked his watch. It was two a.m. in Malaysia. There was a kick of worry low in his gut. “Is everything OK?”

There was a pause on the line.

“You probably shouldn’t be on your phone if you’re outside,” said Ket Hau.

“No one would want my phone,” said Ket Siong accurately. That was one of the chief benefits of having a phone whose most advanced feature was the game Snake.

But he stopped outside an off-licence, ducking under a canopy sheltering boxes of withered-looking fruit and veg.

“What’s going on?” he said. “Is it Ma?”

“Ma’s fine,” said Ket Hau, too quickly. “Don’t worry. I couldn’t get to sleep, and I thought you’d be done with classes.” He paused. “Ma’s planning to call you tomorrow, but I wanted to speak to you first. She’s pretty upset.”

“What happened?”

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