Of course, there were pros to go alongside the cons. The architecture, the cheap prices, (some of) the street foods. Shanghai remained foreign to him, but it also made Blake feel connected to something bigger than himself and the world he’d always known. And sometimes, when he stared out the window at the towering spires of the Shanghai skyline, he thought he might love it enough to never go back.
“I’ve never been in love.” Farrah’s non sequitur jolted Blake from his thoughts. She wore a far-off expression, like she was dreaming of something she knew would happen but hasn’t happened yet. “I think I could fall in love here.”
Her wistful tone made his heart ache in the strangest way. “Aren’t you already in love?”
Blake’s jaw tightened when he remembered the way Farrah looked at Leo yesterday. He had no reason to be jealous, but the green-eyed monster reared its head at the oddest times.
“Leo’s a crush. I want big, crazy, stupid love. The kind that’s worthy of Hollywood.” Farrah sighed. “I just want to know what that feels like.”
Blake eased backward and sank deeper into his seat. “That’s the con.”
“Excuse me?”
“There is no romance like that in real life. Books and movies hype up the idea of a grand love and The One to make money.”
The peaceful atmosphere in the cab shattered. Farrah’s jaw dropped. “Wow. That is so cynical.”
“I’m not cynical. I’m telling the truth.” Blake wasn’t anti-love, but it was overrated. Look at him and Cleo. Childhood friends turned lovers, with plenty of bumps and obstacles along the way. Their story was made for the movies and look how that turned out. Everyone said they were meant to be together, and he did love her, but he didn’t love her the way Hollywood said he should.
Hollywood romance was a load of crap.
Farrah crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m guessing you’ve never been in love.”
“I have.” What he and Cleo had was love, right? “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
She turned her head and stared out the window again. “I’m sorry. That’s really sad.” For once, her tone was devoid of sarcasm.
Blake followed her lead and gazed out the window closest to him. The view wasn’t nearly as nice on this side. It was all old apartment buildings and concrete and smog.
“I’ll survive.”
Chapter Seven
“Have a safe flight tomorrow.” Farrah’s mom’s voice crackled over the line. “Message me when you land.”
“I will.” Farrah stuffed another bikini into the crevice of her bulging suitcase. Six swimsuits for one week should be enough, right? “Do you want anything special from Thailand?”
“No. I’m trying minimalism,” Cheryl Lau decided. She’d kept her maiden name even after she married Farrah’s dad, which turned out to be a fortuitous choice, given how that relationship turned out. “I’m doing a big spring cleaning this weekend.”
“Mom, it’s October.”
“You know what I mean.” Farrah could practically hear her mom waving a dismissive hand in the air. “Anyway, I have to go. I’m going ballroom dancing tonight at Blue Coast.”
“Ok. Have fun. Talk to you later.”
“Talk to you later. Remember, message me!”
Farrah hung up and tossed the phone on the bed, where it landed with a thump next to Olivia.
“You and your mom are so cute.” Olivia sounded envious. “All my mom ever asks me is what my grades are and whether I’ve heard back from my internship yet.”
Farrah cocked her head. “When do you hear about your internship?”
“Four to six weeks.” Olivia jiggled her foot. “They review applications on a rolling basis.”
“You’ll get it.” Farrah squeezed in one last bikini—just to be safe—and flipped down the lid. “Help?”
Olivia hopped off Farrah’s bed and sat on the suitcase while Farrah struggled to zip it up.