Page 28 of Never Thought I'd End Up Here
“You can’t justacceptit at two yuan,” I hiss. “There’s definitely room to go lower.”
“You bargain with him, then.”
“I will. Watch. Just don’t judge me for what I’m about to do.”
His brows shoot up. “Why would I judge—”
I switch my smile to the other one. The one I wear way more often in public, the one I’m admittedly a little ashamed of resorting to, but not so ashamed as to stop using it. It’s softer, half-sly, my chin tipping down, my eyes squinting into a smolder that’s as ridiculous as it is effective. Then, after consulting Google Translate, I fluff my hair out and lean forward as gracefully as I can over the pile of lettuce. “Really? You can’t go any cheaper?” I ask in a breathy voice I’m pretty sure I borrowed from a fantasy video game about sexy elves, but it’s perfect for my target audience.
The boy sets his phone aside and looks up for the first time, which I consider a tremendous success. “Two is the cheapest I can offer,” he says gruffly, but I can see him taking me in, his eyes wandering down from my lips to where my halter top is cropped at the waist to the slim length of my ankles, strapped into my black stilettos. This is what I’m good at. This is maybe, probably, the only thing I’m good at: fleeting impressions, tourist-attraction interest, something to admire for a minute before you start getting bored of seeing the same scenery.
“Quick. How do you sayhandsomein Chinese? Like, in a colloquial way?” I ask Cyrus under my breath.
“You don’t have to tell me I’m handsome in Chinese,” he replies, cocking his head. “English is fine.”
There are a number of things Iwouldlike to tell him that are less flattering and far more menacing, but I need to act fast while I still have the boy’s attention.“Cyrus.”
He hesitates. Sighs. “It’s shuaige,” he says, as resentfully as if the information had been tortured out of him. Then, in a lower voice, “I can’t believe I’m helping you flirt with this guy.”
“You’re helping me help us win,” I inform him, and turn back to the boy. “Please, shuaige. Can’t you be nice and let us buy the lettuce for fifty cents?” I doubt my grammar is entirely correct, but I hold out hope that any awkward turns of phrase are smoothed over by the way I’m gazing right at him as I play with a strand of my hair.
The boy blinks at me like he’s only just learned how to do it and wants to keep practicing. He blinks again. Three more blinks, two fast and one slow, and I’m beginning to wonder if he’s actually conveying a message in code when he nods and grabs the lettuce for us.
“Thank yousomuch, shuaige,” I coo.
“Maybe take the excitement down a notch,” Cyrus mutters in my ear. “Unless you want him to bring you home to meet his parents.”
I ignore him, then swiftly turn to grin at the boy. “Thanks again,” I say, fluttering my fingers in a wave.
I’m still waving to him as we head off to buy carrots next, with Cyrus hauling the bag of lettuce over his shoulder.
“This should be our strategy,” I tell him. “Just charm the vendors, and we might be able to buy things for a cheaper price.”
“I’m not sure I’m a fan of that strategy,” he says, walking faster.
“Yeah, okay, but you’re not a fan of anything.”
His gaze slices up to my face. “That’s not true.”
“Sure.” I let out a scoff of disbelief.
“I just don’t like relying on my charm to get the things I want.”
“That’s not what you were like before,” I say. When he doesn’t reply, I quicken my steps and peer over at him, curious. “You clearly can be charming, Cyrus. You were one of the most popular guys in our class, I remember. But these days … it’s like you’re going out of your way to make sure that nobody warms up to you, and to be honest, I have no idea why. ”
He looks away. Switches the lettuce over to his other shoulder, conveniently blocking my direct view of his face.
“Fine, how about this,” I say. “I’ll do all the charming, and you help translate a few compliments and carry the vegetables. Happy?”
“Never,” he says.
“Great.”
***
Our system works surprisingly well. With the exception of one grumpy vendor who looks like he’s in the business of selling leaves in another, more illegal form, I manage to charm and barter and beam my way down the entire length of our grocery list, until Cyrus has both his hands full with sacks of grains and vegetables. We must have walked around the entire perimeter of the market, because only half an hour in, my phone buzzes to let me know I’ve doubled my daily fitness goal, and my feet start aching. My feet are almost always aching, and it’s usually mild enough for me to ignore it, but the longer we walk, the deeper the straps of my heels press into my flesh. I feel like the little mermaid walking on land for the first time, wincing with every step I take.
I’m practically hobbling as Cyrus drops our purchases down in the designated cart, where the bus is parked and waiting. Most students in the group haven’t returned yet, but Lydia’s already standing there with bags of groceries so close to bursting I have to wonder if she simply robbed the vendors of their entire stalls. A small, self-satisfied smile flickers across her face when she looks over atourbags, which suddenly seem almost empty by comparison.
