Page 31 of Never Thought I'd End Up Here
And in casual, unremarkable moments such as this one, I’m gripped by the novel idea that the people around me actuallylike me, for some bizarre reason I’m still trying to figure out—if only so I don’t mess it up and make them stop.
“That waswaytoo close,” Daisy says as a jingle ascends over the train speakers.
A pleasant, prerecorded female voice plays in the background, sounding throughout every coach. “Nü shi men, xian sheng men, huan ying nin cheng zuo gao tie dong che …” I don’t even register that it’s in Chinese at first because I’m shocked to find I actually understand what she’s saying.Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard the bullet train …It’s not the first time this has happened since I landed in Shanghai. It’s as if something in the back of my brain has been unlocked, allowing the Chinese words floating around me to settle in.
“Unnecessarily close, might I add” Cyrus is saying. “Some buffer time would be nice.”
We’d been right on schedule when we gathered down in the hotel lobby this afternoon, but then one of the sporty girls, Krystal, had to use the bathroom, and as if they were all biologically synced through the power of friendship, the other girls in her trio needed to go too. Then, just as we were about to head out, Sean had reported with the highest urgency that his phone was missing. The case was only closed when he thought to check his left coat pocket half an hour later, by which point Wang Laoshi had already helped conduct a thorough search of his room. And all of that could possiblystillhave been fine, because we’d budgeted for extra time, but then the bus had broken down halfway to the railway station.
“No, really. I’m not even exaggerating when I tell you that was the second most stressful experience I’ve ever had,” Oliver says, rotating his seat in the row ahead so that it’s facing me and Cyrus. Our group has taken up the front of the car: Daisy’s curled up by the window next to Oliver, and Krystal’s friends are lounging in the seats across the aisle, kicking their legs out on the footrests. It’s surprisingly spacious inside, with more than enough room to walk up and down, and cleaner than I would expect any form of public transport to be—at least based on appearances. Even Cyrus looks only moderately disgusted as he sanitizes everything within a four-foot radius of him.
“The second most stressful experience?” I ask Oliver. “What was the first?”
“Other than being birthed into the world and just, like, general human existence? Probably when we had to shut down my father’s winery in Australia because of the possum problem,” Oliver says with a shudder. “The baby possums were having baby possums.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t mind keeping a baby possum as a pet,” Daisy muses.
Oliver snorts. “Of course you wouldn’t. I bet you’d even throw it a tea party.”
“Sorry, are we meant to ignore the fact that your father owns a winery?” I demand, leaning back the same time the train eases forward, accelerating so smoothly and quietly that I don’t even realize we’ve left the station until I see the trees flashing by the window.
“Fourteen wineries,” Oliver clarifies. “But this winery was way bigger than the others. We were going to spend our summer break there last year, but after the possums took over, we had to change plans last minute and stay at one of our resorts in Sanya instead. Not even my favorite resort with the pony farm; just, like, aregularfive-star resort. The sea views weren’t bad though.”
I stare at him as I digest this alarming information, and then press my fingers to my temple like I’m trying to remember something vital. “Oh my god, what is it called again?” I ask.
“The name of our winery?” Oliver says, confused.
“No, that word for when you feel bad for someone but also, at the same time, can’t bring yourself to feel that sorry for them at all.”
Cyrus releases a breath of laughter, then immediately hides it by pressing a fist to his lips.
“It’s okay, you only need to feelslightlysorry for me,” Oliver tells me, unbothered, and grins. “Just sorry enough to go out with me.”
I raise my brows. Every time I let myself entertain the idea that Oliver and I could become actual friends, he’ll say something like this, leaving me to try and figure out just how serious he’s being, and whether he’ll join the list of guys who stopped being nice to me the second they realized I wasn’t going to hook up with them. It would be a serious shame, because despite his bad jokes and severely bourgeois tastes, Oliver Kang’s kind of been growing on me. “Are you asking for a pity date?”
“I’ll take whatever I can get. A pity date. A pity kiss—that’s what you offered Cyrus, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, I don’t really do those anymore,” I inform him, with a meaningful glance at Cyrus, who’s stopped laughing. “As you might be able to tell, it didn’t end well the last time.”
“It would be different with me,” Oliver says, gesturing theatrically between us. “I can’t be the only one who feels this connection we’ve got going on. As if our souls are bound together—”
“We barely know each other.”
“We can get to know each other better right now,” he says without missing a beat. “Like, for starters, what’s your thing?”
“What’s mything?”
“You know, everyone has a thing.” He shrugs and begins to point at the other members in the group, picking each of them out. “Lydia’s thing is being smart and organized. Krystal’s thing is volleyball. Sean’s thing is—well, sleeping, andforgetting he has pockets …”
We all take a moment of silence as we remember the intensive search from earlier today.
“Daisy’s thing is knitting—and probably also dancing in a field of sunshine or donating to charity or something,” Oliver continues as Daisy pulls out a half-formed scarf from her bag, the pink wool unspooling over her lap, and starts finger-knitting. “And Cyrus’s thing is being attractive in a cold vampire way.”
Cyrus sends him a sharp, affronted look.
“What? You should be flattered,” Oliver says. “Daisy, tell him I’m right.”
Daisy lifts her head and nods. “Um, he’s right. The vampire comparison is definitely a compliment.”
