American Panda(66)

“Are you not happy?” I leaned forward, trying to read her eyes.

She ignored my question. “I had a cousin whose parents wanted him to be a doctor. He went to medical school, of course—no one would even think about disobeying their parents back then—but he hated it. On his medical school graduation day, he handed his parents his diploma, then drowned himself in the river.”

I gasped and pulled my hand from hers. How could she have pushed me so much after witnessing that?

“He’d always been in the back of my mind. Haunting me. I was hoping maybe when you tried medicine, you would fall in love with it. . . .” She grabbed my hand again. “But I don’t want to risk your happiness. If you say you won’t like it, I trust you.”

My response was a breath of a whisper, quieted by my welling emotions. “Thank you, Mǎmá.”

“I trust you to decide your own major and your own track”—she paused—“as long as you don’t become an artist or musician.” Her curved lip implied she was joking.

My mother! Cracking a joke! I grinned, a welcome reaction instead of the usual frustration.

She slid a red envelope across the table, shielding it with her hand as if it were contraband. “Take it. It’s all I could scrape away for now, but I’ll try to get you more. I’ll do what I can. I don’t want you to worry.”

I accepted the tiny red packet of love with a shaky hand. “So you want to see me again?”

“Of course.” No hesitation.

Outside the restaurant, I wrapped my arms around her. Beneath her winter layers, she relaxed, and then finally, what I had been waiting for, for far too long, she reciprocated. Two petite arms wrapped around my back. Squeezing. Because she wanted me.





Voicemail from my mother

I watched some of the videos you sent of ?Ying-Na. I didn’t laugh, but at least she’s not taking off her clothes. The audience seems to like her. Hunh. Who would’ve guessed?





CHAPTER 27


HACKING


“ARE WE DOING THIS OR what?” Nic jumped up and down and threw a few jabs. “Get pumped, Mei!”

“I am, I am,” I said in my best tough-chick voice. I wasn’t used to being up in the middle of the night, and Nic was right—I needed to circulate some adrenaline. Rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet, I returned a few punches.

“More! Not because we’re going to have fun, but because it’ll be really fucking cold and we need to get our blood pumping.”

I burst into laughter.

“That’ll work too, I guess.” She grabbed my chin. “Good, your cheeks are flushed.” She circled a finger in the air like a lasso. “Let’s move out!”

Nic and I were dressed like cat burglars—matching black turtlenecks, spandex leggings, and beanies. Our outfits weren’t all that visible beneath our coats, scarves, and mittens, but we knew what was underneath.

We swept through the empty hallways quickly, communicating with only hand gestures and looks.

It’s a roommate thing, I thought excitedly.

We snuck past the lone security guard whistling down the corridor, then crept through Barker Library, up the endless staircase, and past the locked door Nic picked with ease. Once we were on the roof, I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. It fogged immediately as the wind cut through my down coat, numbing my body.

Nicolette leaned a ladder against the little dome’s platform and motioned for me to go first. No six-foot-something companion to help me up this time. As I climbed, my shivers threatened to topple us. If it weren’t for Nic beneath me, pushing me on (sometimes literally head-butting my pìgu), I might have turned back.

On top of the little dome, I tried to take a moment to reminisce about Darren and my first kiss, but thinking about him poked at the remorseful bubble that had been floating around inside me since the night of the wedding. At least it motivated me to push through the cold. Grand gestures weren’t normally my thing, but turns out, trying to find the right words to express yourself was really freaking hard.

I turned on my flashlight with shivering fingers.

“Okay, quickly now,” Nic shouted over the wind. “Work fast so we can get the fuck outta here.”

I gritted my chattering teeth and we moved swiftly and in sync, just as we had practiced in our room. Because of the wintry weather, we had opted for a simple design, just a few sheets of cardboard that were easy to carry and required minimal assembly.

The final piece. We were almost there. Just had to tie down one last corner . . . and . . . oops. I lost my footing.

The wind whistled past my ears as I careened down the side of the dome. I clutched the rope in my hands. My lifeline. My feet smacked against the limestone repeatedly. I gripped the rope until my hands hurt. A burst of pain exploded in my leg. Finally, the line went taut and I was jolted to a stop. My arms burned at the resulting tug, but it was nothing compared to what I felt in my thigh.

I bit my lip to keep from screaming—I knew it would be a five-hundred-dollar fine if we were caught up here. Nic tied off the last bit of rope, finishing our hack, then helped me inside.

As we huddled for warmth, she shined the flashlight onto my leg. My pants were torn, my Hello Kitty underwear on full display, and a trickle of bright red blood dribbled from my inner thigh down to my knee. The sight flipped my stomach upside down.