Page 35 of This Time It's Real
I clear my throat. Attempt to ward off all non-family-friendly thoughts with a quick wave of my hand. “I—um. Yeah. I think so.”
“Youthinkyou’ve made a friend?” Ma’s brows furrow, perplexed.
“I think he counts as a friend,” I clarify. I can already feel the heat rushing to my skin. “Depending on . . . on your definition of the word.”
Something in my voice must give me away, because everyone looks up. The line between Ma’s brows deepens. Ba merely appears surprised and a little lost, though that might be because he’s halfway through composing a new poem in his head.
My only source of comfort right now is that we’ve never had a no-dating policy in our household.
It’s strange, really, the kind of things my parents are strict about. Like, they’ll freak out if I wear a tank top outside and my bra strap is showing, or if I go to bed with wet hair, but they aren’t opposed to the idea of me dating in my final years of high school, and they’ll encourage me to attend social gatherings because they consider it a “life skill.”
I know a lot of people can’t wrap their heads around my parents’ logic. My friends at my old schools could never understand why I was allowed to have sleepovers at my place, but not theirs, or why it was such a big deal that I stay off my phone during family dinner times. A lot of them were shocked that we even had proper family dinners, instead of quick bites between school or work.
But if I’m honest, I don’t mind it. My parents’ rules might not make total sense to others, but they do to Emily and me.
Plus, their highly specific rules mean that no matter what I say next, I at least don’t have to worry about my parents disowning me.
“Are you trying to tell us something about a certain boy in your life?” Ma asks slowly, tentatively, as if phrasing the question wrong might scare me away. Though I doubt there is arightway to ask about this kind of thing.
Emily, as always, is much more direct. “So you do have a boyfriend?”
“Well . . .” I lick my dry lips. It’s even harder than I’d imagined, telling them about Caz when they’re all studying me so intently. I pretend to rearrange the slices of carrot on my plate, then answer in Mandarin. “Uh, yes.”
A beat.
Panicking, I continue. “There is. I am. I mean, I’m with someone. In, like, a romantic sense—though of course, given our age and the general dating trends in modern-day society—”
“Who is it?” Emily asks, saving me from my rambling.
Neither Ma nor Ba says anything, but Ma is making that poker-face expression she always does when she’s trying very hard to absorb a new, significant piece of information: her gaze carefully guarded, her mouth pressed in a thin line.
“Um, you know the male lead from that drama we’ve been watching?” I begin.
Emily raises her brows. Ma nods once.
Ba stuffs a new patty between the loaves of bread.
The silence tightens around me. I can only hear the kitchen clock ticking like a bomb, counting down the seconds until I force myself to say, “Yeah, so, that’s him.”
Another beat.
I expect shock. Confusion. Maybe even awe.
What I don’t expect is for my family to burst out laughing.
“Tian ya,” Ma manages through her sudden fit of hysteria. She’s actually wiping at her eyes. “I didn’t think you were one of those—those idol chasers, Ai-Ai. And you looked so serious about it too!”
Emily is snorting into her hand. “If you’re dating that Caz Song guy, then I’m dating Gong Jun.”
“And I’m dating Liu Dehua,” Ma adds, shaking her head as she resumes her bread slicing again.
Ba frowns at her. “You’remarried.”
“Oh, it’s just a joke, Laogong.” Ma nudges him playfully with one elbow, and Ba’s expression softens at once. “Of course I haven’t forgotten about you.”
If my face wasn’t on fire before, it definitely is now. “I’m not joking,” I protest, setting my plate of carrots down. “Iamdating him.He goes to our school.” Desperate, I turn to Emily for help. “You know he goes to our school, right? And he lives close to us?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard,” she allows, still smiling slightly. At least she isn’t outright laughing anymore.
