by Nia Arthurs
Melissa lets out a loud sigh. Geez, how long can she hold her breath? The girl is like a fire extinguisher.
When her sigh is complete, after about three minutes, she presses a manicured hand to her chest. “I feel sorry for you, Gwen. I really do.”
“Thanks?”
“I hope you figure it all out.” She waves dismissively, indicating her boredom with the subject. “The salad was good. I’m stuffed.” Melissa raises her arms above her head. “Babe?”
Aiden stands to attention. “Yes, honey.”
“Where’s your room? I want to take a nap.”
“Right this way.” Aiden escorts his pregnant girlfriend down the hall.
Danny and I remain in the dining room. I move my fork over my plate and force myself to down the food even though my appetite’s gone.
When I glance up, Danny is regarding me with a thoughtful expression. My mind flits back to the almost-kiss. Or what I think was an almost-kiss. It’s hard to blend reality with my delusional desires.
“What?” I whisper.
“I have an idea. Hear me out.”
I set my fork down and lean in.
“I have a house in Belmopan. It used to be my family’s vacation home, but we don’t use it anymore.”
“Okay…” I don’t know why Danny is telling me this. “That’s nice.”
“It’s only a thirty-minute drive from the university. You should use it.”
My jaw drops. “You’re offering your house?”
“It’s not my house. And I know it’s not in Cayo, but it’s better than nothing. What do you say?”
“Danny…” My chest swells with gratefulness. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem.” He dips his chin. “I wish you would have told me about this earlier. We could have solved it all then.”
My toes curl in absolute pleasure. Every time I think I have a chance of getting over Daniel Kwan, he goes and pulls something like this.
My pathetic crush… lives.
10 Danny
Yesterday, I almost kissed Gwen Ferguson. Like an idiot.
Every time Gwen’s around me, my mind splits in two—the ‘she’s freaking gorgeous and you want her’ side and the ‘she’s your best friend’s sister and Aiden’s gonna kill you’ side.
Seems I’m leaning more toward the grab-and-kiss-her side of me than I’d like.
That’s why, when Gwen asks me to help her move in, I bring reinforcements.
“Where do you want this, Gwen?” Richie asks, carrying a huge box marked ‘FRAGILE’ in his arms. Sweat stains his pale forehead. His grey shirt is dotted with moisture.
It’s a scorching hot day, one in a long line of them. I’m stripped down to my undershirt. We’ve only been working for thirty minutes, but it feels like hours.
“Just drop it anywhere.” Gwen tugs a lock of her straight black hair. She’s wearing a polka-dot bandana around her forehead. A red flannel shirt and black leggings complete the look.
“Why’d you bring so many pots?” I point to the box overflowing with kitchen items. “I told you we had those here.”
“I have a tendency to burn things,” she admits with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want to ruin your stuff.”
“True dat.” Aiden waddles into the living room and tosses a box on the ground. “She burns water.”
“How ‘bout I burn your face?”
“Is that a threat?” Aiden’s mouth drops. “Did everyone hear that? She threatened me.”
Before the siblings can argue, I jump in. “I think that’s the last of it.”
“Yes!” Richie cries, his eyes closed in relief.
“Wait… where’s Jackson?”
“That’s the guy with the accent, right?” Aiden frowns. “I haven’t seen him either.”
“Is he still in the car?” Richie trots to the window and glances outside. “The little punk. He is!”
I run to the porch and wave. Richie’s colleague notices and shuts the engine. A moment later, he pops out of the car and strides toward the verandah.
Unlike the rest of us who wore T-shirts and jeans, Jackson’s in a fancy shirt and slacks. Every black hair is in place and not a bead of sweat mars his face.
“Do you need help?” Jackson asks.
Richie overhears and grumbles, “Would have been nice if you’d asked that before we brought everything inside.”
“You expected me to work in this heat?” Jackson’s eyes widen.
“It’s fine,” Gwen says, ever the gracious hostess. She takes turns making eye contact, gifting even Jackson with one of her dazzling smiles. “I really appreciate you taking time out of your Sunday to help me. What do you feel like having for lunch? It’s my treat.”
As Aiden, Richie and Jackson argue about what to order, I follow Gwen into the kitchen. It’s a bad idea to get her alone, but I can’t help myself. I’m drawn to her like a freezing man to the warmth of a fire.
“Danny,” Gwen says, surprise in her voice. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Just getting some water.” I point to a bottle on the counter.
Gwen touches my arm and the gentle contact sends my nerves dancing. “Thank you so much for helping me out.”
“You’re welcome.” I’ll have to hide that she’s living here from Mom and Dad, but I don’t regret it. The thought of Gwen driving on the road every day didn’t sit well with me. I’ll sleep much better knowing she’s here.
“It’s a beautiful house,” she says.
“Yeah. There’s a lot of good memories here too.”
My gaze tracks around the room, taking in the blue walls, the tiled floors and the red wooden cupboards. I can almost hear my sisters laughing as they help Mom in the kitchen, my brother and I getting underfoot as we impatiently taste everything they put out.
There was only one bedroom, so my siblings and I slept in the living room together. We’d curl up in our sleeping bags and stay up way past lights out. Always felt like we were camping.
“Why’d your family stop coming here?” Gwen asks.
“After Cam died,” I swallow the lump in my throat, “it didn’t feel the same without her.”
“I’m so sorry.” A line forms between Gwen’s dainty eyebrows. “I had no idea, and I made you visit this place again—”
“It’s fine.” I lean against the wall and tap the surface. “You can fill this house with new memories.”
A gorgeous smile unfurls on her face. My heart turns over.
Get out of here, Danny.
Gwen still hasn’t brought up the moment we had in the kitchen yesterday. As the initiator, I should probably mention it first, but I have no idea what to say.
I wanted to kiss her.
From the way Gwen closed her eyes and leaned in, she wanted to kiss me too.
But I can’t go there. Even if it feels natural and right to do so.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and break eye contact first. “We should see how those guys are doing.”
“I hope they figure something out. I don’t know any good restaurants in Belmopan. Which sucks.”
“Why?”
“Did you not hear Aiden? The stove and I aren’t friends. I’ll starve if I have to cook for myself.”
Laughter bubbles from my throat. “That’s sad.”
Gwen follows me to the living room where the guys are still arguing over what to eat.
Aiden climbs to his feet and throws his arms skyward. “Dan, you talk to them.”
“What’s wrong?”
Jackson glares at Aiden. “Your friend thinks that Belizean rice and beans is better than any other type of rice.”
“It is!” Aiden yells.
“You are grossly inaccurate.” Jackson shoots back.
“You see what I’ve had to put up with?” Richie pulls on his hair.
A smirk tilts my lips. I was born in Belize, but my parents were recent immigrants so I grew up in a house that was very Chinese. The culture clash was hard
at first, but I was young and wanted to fit in at school.
Aiden was great at helping me transition into a true Chinese-Belizean. I love both cultures, and I’m pretty sure—given time—Jackson will come to a happy medium too.
“How about we get both—Chinese and Belizean?”
Richie pumps his fists. “I’m in.”
Aiden and Jackson nod. We order dim sung from a Chinese restaurant and traditional rice and beans, stew chicken and salad from another. We’ve got about twenty minutes to burn before the food arrives.
Since Gwen doesn’t have much furniture, she takes the old sofa while the rest of us gather on the floor. She stretches out, her toes plastered against the side of the chair. I want to stare at her, but I force myself to focus on the bare walls behind her head.
“How’s the wedding planning coming?” I ask Richie.
He shrugs. “I have no idea. All I was told to do is show up on time. Mei An and my mom are doing everything.”
Gwen overhears and turns on her side. She props her head up with her elbow. The exaggerated dip and curve of her waist catches my eye.
When did she get so voluptuous? I feel like a creep for enjoying the view.
“Are you going to have a traditional Chinese wedding or will your fiancée dress in white and get married in a church?” Gwen asks.
“We’re doing both. Because my family is extra.” Richie scoffs. “Guess who comes up with the ideas and guess who has to pay for it?”
“It is the Western ceremony that is a waste of time,” Jackson mumbles.
“We’re having the church service and ceremony here in Belize,” Richie explains, ignoring Jackson’s snide comment. “Then we’re going to China to have the traditional wedding with her parents and siblings.”
“It seems like the best of both worlds.” Gwen peers at Richie. “Wait… aren’t you marrying someone from Belize?”
“We’ll live in Belize after the ceremonies, but no. My parents sent for a Chinese bride from our family’s province.”
“So you didn’t meet her before then?”
“Nope.”
“Didn’t you at least text?”
“I looked her picture up online,” Richie says. “She was pretty enough.”
Aiden scrunches his nose. “What if you didn’t want to marry her?”
“So what?” Jackson narrows his eyes. “It is what the elders want.”
“But what if it’s not what you want?” Aiden insists.
I can see that Jackson is getting irritated, so I jump in. “We trust that our elders know best since they’re older and wiser.”
“What if they’re wrong?” Gwen taps her chin. “What if they don’t always know best?”
Richie squirms. “That’s an option we don’t allow ourselves to think about.”
“It is only right that the family has a say in who we marry.” Jackson waves his arms, his voice climbing. “When two people come together, it’s not only them as individuals joining, but their family as well.”
“You’ve explained it to me before, Dan.” Aiden shakes his head. “But it still sounds dumb.”
Jackson bristles. “It’s much better than your way of having no respect for elders and jumping around making children you don’t take care of.”
Aiden jumps to his feet, nostrils flaring. “You wanna say that again?”
“Hey!” Gwen yells. “Aiden, cool off.”
“Jackson,” I place my hand on his shoulder, “cut it out. We’re all friends here.”
I glance at Aiden. Jackson’s comment hit close to home given his current situation.
As awkward silence and heated breaths fill the room, Gwen speaks up. “We’re different. Anyone could look at us and see that.” A frustrated gleam fills her eyes. “That doesn’t mean we have to argue with each other.”
“I agree,” Richie says.
Gwen narrows her eyes at Aiden. “Bro, it might seem weird, but at least respect how their family does things. Just because we don’t understand doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
“Right.” Jackson jerks his chin.
Aiden sneers.
“And you,” Gwen points to Jackson.
“Me?”
“Don’t judge all black people on the stereotypes you hear on the news or in mainstream media. Some fathers do stick around. Some women do finish school without getting pregnant out of wedlock.”
Jackson’s face turns pink. “I-I didn’t mean to imply—”
“It’s fine.” Gwen arches an eyebrow. “Let’s try to have a nice lunch without mauling each other. Alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Fine.”
I hide a smile as Gwen slides her killer gaze through both men. She subdued them and deescalated the argument in less than five minutes.
Her confidence is hot.
And I’m not the only one noticing.
Richie is staring at Gwen with an expression that can only be described as hunger.
My defenses fly up. I don’t like that look.
A knock interrupts my study of Richie’s face. I flash a glance at the window overlooking the verandah. A deliveryman stands outside.
Gwen hops over our legs and prances to the door. “The food’s here. I’ll be right back.”
The moment she leaves, the tension in the room thickens. Jackson and Aiden have returned to their seats, but from my best friend’s clenched jaw I can tell he’d rather be anywhere but here.
Gwen walks through the door, her arms burdened with plastic bags. Both Richie and I jump to her rescue.
“Let me take that,” he says, reaching her first.
“Thanks.” Gwen flutters her eyelashes as if stunned. “You didn’t have to…”
“Where do you want us to put this?” I ask gruffly.
“Just lay it out in the living room. I’ll be right back with the drinks.”
Richie and I follow Gwen’s instructions. As soon as she’s gone, I grab my cousin by the arm and drag him down the hall.
“What’s up?” Richie shakes my hold.
“I saw you.”
“Saw what?”
“The way you were looking at Gwen.” My hands clench into fists. “I don’t know what’s running through your head right now, but you’re getting married in two weeks.”
He scoffs. “I don’t need the reminder.”
“Stay away from Gwen, Richie.”
“Why? So you can shoot longing looks at her without doing anything?”
I grab his collar and growl, “You think I’m joking?”
“I think you’re a coward.” Richie pries my fingers off him. “Touch me again, and you lose a hand.”
I blow out a breath and watch him storm back into the living room.
Unease slithers in my stomach.
This won’t end well.
11 Gwen
I wake up the next morning to an extra bright room. My bedroom and hall lights are on. That’s what happens when you sleep alone in a strange house, in a new district, fifty miles from your family.
I’m a big, fat scaredy cat. There. I admit it.
My phone beeps, informing me of a new message. When I turn the screen over, I see a bunch of notifications. Most are from Britney and Win. I just scroll through those.
I’m not in the mood to talk to my friends right now. Sure, Danny came through for me and all the pieces made a puzzle in the end, but I’m still disappointed that I had to scramble to find a house when I should have been safe and warm with them.
Rolling onto my back, I hold my phone over my head and read the texts from Mom and Dad. My parents always make an effort to encourage me on the first day back to school and today is no exception.
MOM: Have fun, sweetie! This is going to be a great semester. Only A’s across the board. Whoo! Love you.
I smirk. Mom’s ‘whoo’ doesn’t pack the punch she intended it to. Dad’s text is an even greater fail.
DAD: Your mom forced me to send this. Stay safe.
Laughin
g softly, I text them back and then toss my phone. My arms stretch toward the ceiling as I crack my muscles and summon the energy to prepare for my first class.
It’s early in the morning. The sunlight is faint, but it fights past the thin curtains covering the windows. My feet brush the cold floor as I head to the kitchen and rummage through the cupboards for something to eat.
The pantry is empty.
My stomach growls. I’m getting desperate now. Why didn’t I go grocery shopping with Mom when she suggested it Saturday?
I wrench the fridge open, praying there’s some leftovers in there. It’ll be a miracle if there is. Despite the heated argument between Jackson and Aiden, both men cleared their plates yesterday.
“Come on, Fridge. Give me something.”
No luck.
It’s empty.
Like my hopes for breakfast.
Just for fun, I open the freezer and stop short when I see a brown package in the middle of the rack. Curious, I drag it out and nearly squeal. It’s a chocolate Delight. I bring the wrapper to my lips and sniff it.
There’s a note on top. I pick it off and recognize Danny’s crab-like handwriting.
Have a great first day.
I hug the ice cream bar to my chest and then kiss the note on top. It crackles like fireworks. Or maybe that’s just me. It doesn’t matter. Danny snuck a Delight into my freezer. I could tap dance.
When did he have time to do that?
Danny and Richie returned to the house after everyone left, but Richie said it was so he could use the bathroom. Maybe it was just to cover up Danny’s plan.
I tilt my head, picturing his handsome face in my mind. Danny seemed moody and withdrawn yesterday. Barely spoke to anyone. He ate quickly and was eager to leave. Which was disappointing.
I was hoping he could stay a little longer so I could ask why he touched my face and tried to kiss me last week, but it never felt like the right time to bring it up.
Danny’s thoughtful gift pastes a smile on my face that lingers through my morning routine and as I drive to school.
The smile droops when I see Winnie and Britney trotting toward me on the path to the main buildings. I turn around to try and shake them, but it’s too late. I’ve been spotted.
“Gwen! Wait up!” Britney waves.
