Last Night at the Telegraph Club(13)

Afterward, drowsy and full, Lily lay down on the grass and threw an arm over her eyes to block the sun. She began to doze off, feeling as if she were sinking slowly into the warm ground, the voices of the youth group members growing ever more distant. Someone was talking about how China was moving forward into the future, and Lily imagined a Chinese man in a space suit, his face blurry behind his round helmet, standing on a red planet. Behind him, an army of similarly space-suited explorers blinked into existence: hundreds, thousands of Chinese, and the man in the lead now held a Red China flag, its five gold stars on the red cloth blending into the Martian landscape.



* * *



—

She must have fallen asleep, because when she woke up, blinking slowly at the bright blue sky above, she was alone on the picnic blanket. She heard laughter nearby, and the thunk of a volleyball. She rolled onto her side, and green blades of grass poked against her cheek. The volleyball net had been strung between two poles, and the youth group members divided into two teams, while others watched from the sidelines.

She pillowed her head on her arm to make herself more comfortable, but she didn’t get up. Shirley was actually playing in the game, which was somewhat unusual. When they were children, Shirley had been quite good at sports; she was always getting chosen first in gym class and dominated the basketball games they played on the courts behind Cameron House. It had been a long time, though, since Lily had seen Shirley dust off her athletic skills. Now she saw Shirley standing with her knees slightly bent, eyes up as she followed the trajectory of the ball, hands clasped in front of her. The ball came at the player beside her, who bumped it with his forearms, and then Shirley jumped up, arm outstretched to smack the ball down over the net, where it struck the ground between two players.

Shirley’s team broke into cheers, and Lily saw Calvin run up beside her, patting her on the back. If his hand lingered a bit longer than necessary, nobody noticed except Shirley—and Lily, who saw her friend lean into his hand, tilting her head up to smile at him.



* * *



—

“You like him, don’t you?” Lily asked Shirley as they walked home from Stockton Street.

Shirley, who always played it cool, couldn’t prevent a slight flush from coloring her face. “Everyone was very nice.”

Lily laughed. “Yes. Everyone. But Calvin was especially nice to you.”

Shirley shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said loftily. “I noticed that Will was especially nice to you.”

“What? Will was just . . . Will.”

Shirley gave Lily an incredulous look.

Lily frowned. “He was just being nice. As usual. Why do you always see things that aren’t there?”

“Why don’t you ever see what is there? You can be so oblivious sometimes. If you don’t pay more attention, you’ll never have a boyfriend.”

Lily almost retorted, I don’t want a boyfriend, but she stopped herself just in time. Instead she said, “My parents won’t let me have one until I go to college, anyway. So it doesn’t matter.”

They saw their friend Mary Kwok coming up the street then and dropped the topic, but later that night as Lily climbed into bed, she realized Shirley had succeeded in distracting her from her original subject: Shirley’s interest in Calvin. It was strange that Shirley didn’t want to talk about it, but the whole day had been somewhat unusual. Spending it with two dozen strangers, for one thing. Lily and Shirley had had the same group of friends for as long as Lily could remember. Although there were always new immigrants from China showing up at school, they were relegated to Americanization classes and didn’t interact much with the American-born Chinese kids. And this was the first time Lily had spent so much time with college students. She couldn’t quite believe that she’d be one of them in less than a year. Their lives seemed so different from hers, both freer and more weighted with responsibilities. Lily also noticed that Shirley had inserted herself deliberately into the college students’ conversations in addition to their volleyball game. She had been charming, too, in a way that she normally wasn’t. She’d kept a lid on her bossier tendencies and instead played the part of modest, cheerful guest.

All of that had gone out the window as soon as they left Calvin and Will on Stockton Street, of course. You can be so oblivious sometimes, she had said. It had irritated Lily that afternoon, and now the feeling flared into frustration at the way Shirley saw her—or didn’t see her.

The sheets felt hot and scratchy tonight, and she threw them off, kicking her legs free. She had opened the little window in her room, but the air was still and didn’t circulate. She heard the sounds of the city floating through the window: car engines chugging up and down hills, the distant sound of someone laughing. She punched her pillow and flipped it over to the cool side, and wondered if what Shirley had said about Will was true.

She called up Will’s face in her mind’s eye, but she didn’t feel anything special for him. She tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss him, but the idea felt distinctly embarrassing and oddly repugnant. He was just Will. Ordinary, same old Will from Commodore Stockton, perfectly nice, who used to want to be a basketball player but now wanted to be a lawyer. She began to imagine Will throwing the basketball through the hoop in the Cameron House yard.