Page 90 of If You Could See the Sun
Well, notallmessages. Andrew She’s long instructions for kidnapping Peter are still there, in bold, as well his original offer of one million RMB in exchange for the task.
“Okay, let’s go over our story one more time,” I tell Henry, who’s now sitting cross-legged on the bed beside me. “How did I end up accepting Andrew’s offer on Beijing Ghost?”
Henry nods and straightens like we’re about to take an exam, then rattles off the answer with impressive speed. “At the start of the school year, I decided to create a study app for some user experience design practice. The main idea behind it was that through the app, anyone at Airington could help each other answer school-related questions, while also earning some extra cash as an incentive. All the accounts are anonymous, but there’s a point system that awards extra points to those who’ve offered the most help, and thus have the most credibility. And since you were, by far, the highest-ranked account, with a reputation for taking on whatever problems came up, regardless of subject or difficulty...”
“Andrew figured that I actually needed the cash, which made me the person most likely to accept his offer and get the job done,” I finish, clapping my hands together. “That sounds plausible, right? Like, specific but not too specific?”
“Right,” Henry says. “And if that doesn’t fully convince the school, your article will.”
I hope so,I think to myself. Writing the article was weirdly cathartic; I’d poured everything I had—everything I’ve experienced in the past five years, every great injustice and minor disappointment, all my loud fears and quiet hopes, all my time spent both on the inside and outside of Airington’s elite circle—into those words. Now I just want to make them count.
“So.” Henry’s finger hovers over the send button on the screen. “Shall we?”
I gnaw on the inside of my cheek and try to act like I don’t feel nauseated at the very thought of emailing the school board. “We shall.”
Before I have time to regret this whole plan, the email leaves my inbox with a loud whooshing sound.
No going back now.
In the silence that follows, I hear loud footsteps, mixed with Baba and Xiaoyi’s voices; something about taking their shoes off. They must’ve just gotten here.
Henry hears them too. He quickly combs his hair with both hands, as if it doesn’t already look perfect, adjusts his shirt collar, and springs to his feet. Then he catches me staring. “What?”
“Where—where exactly do you think you’re going?” I splutter.
“To introduce myself to your father, of course,” he says, now heading for the door. “It’s the polite thing to do—”
I grab his shirt and yank him back toward me. “No. No, no, no, no. You can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m barely on speaking terms with my dad right now,” I hiss, refusing to release my grip on his sleeve. “If he sees me coming out of the room with you, he’s going to think—he’ll think—”
“Yes?” Henry arches one brow, testing. Teasing. “What will he think?”
God help me.“You know,”I snap. My whole face burns. “Point is, it’s a very bad idea.”
But instead of being discouraged, he just offers me one of those smug, terribly attractive smiles that used to get under my skin so much. It still kind of does—just in a way that makes me focus far too long on his lips. “Don’t worry. All parents love me; I’ll be sure to make a good impression.”
As I consider the potential risks of hiding Henry under the bed versus introducing him to my family, Xiaoyi’s voice travels through the door. “...Yan Yan inside?”
“She’s with someone right now,” comes Mama’s reply.
Well, I guess my decision’s been made for me.
With a quick warning glare at Henry, I let go of his shirt and enter the living room.
Xiaoyi, Mama, and Baba are all sitting on the couch, a plate of skinned and diced apple set out before them, complete with a set of toothpicks on the side.
“Yan Yan!” Xiaoyi greets me brightly, standing up and shuffling over in her slippers. “I hear you’re a criminal now!”
Both Baba and Mama make a series of deeply disapproving noises.
“Please don’t encourage her,” Mama mutters in Chinese.
But Xiaoyi’s already turned her attention to Henry beside me. I’m not exaggerating when I say that her eyes literally light up,her jaw dropping all the way to her feet. You’d think she’s never seen me with a tall, good-looking, well-dressed boy my age before.
Okay, fine. She hasn’t.
