“Why not, though? Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?” Khai asks.
“It’s not that easy—”
“Yeah, it is,” Michael interjects. “It’s exactly that easy.”
“It’s not,” I say, and my certainty is conveyed in the tone of my voice.
Khai starts to speak, but Michael shakes his head at him so he falls silent.
I spin my glass several more times, around and around. “I don’t know how to tell her about what happened.”
“Then don’t,” Khai says. “It’s not information that she needs to know.”
Michael nods in agreement. “He’s got a point. You can tell her later if things progress.”
I just shake my head. Parts of me don’t look quite right anymore. That’s the simple truth and something that I feel I need to explain. There’s also the other thing, the thing that I haven’t told anyone yet, because it’s awkward and it sucks and sometimes it still makes me cry. But I’d have to tell Anna. It’s relevant when it comes to relationships.
“You know, I can tell based purely off text messages if a girl is into someone,” Michael says.
“Yeah, like if the message says ‘I’m into you,’ that’s a pretty sure sign,” I say dryly.
“No, get your phone out and text her. I’ll show you what I’m talking about. I can tell within three lines,” he insists. “Plus, don’t you want to know how she’s doing? You guys were originally going to meet up tonight.”
Grumbling, I take my phone out of my pocket and text her, How you doing?
“I’m not going to show you if she says something personal. Also, what if she doesn’t respond right a—”
Dots start jumping on the screen, and I get a new message with a smiley face. I’m okay. You?
I show Michael so he can analyze the exchange like it’s tea leaves or some shit, and he grins right away. “A smiley emoji straight off. That’s a really good sign.”
I narrow my eyes at him before typing, Me too. Was thinking about you.
Before I hit the send button, Michael looks over my shoulder at my phone and says, “What, no emoji? That’s so impersonal. Add a heart.”
I give him a disgusted look. “Marriage has warped your brain if you think—”
He snatches the phone from me, body checks me when I lunge at him, and dances away, typing on my phone screen with his thumbs. When he tosses the phone back to me, the damage has been done. He sent my original message. Except there’s a big red heart after it.
I’m going to kill him.
With my bare hands.
As painfully as possible.
But then my phone buzzes with a new message from Anna. I was thinking about you too. And there, at the end, is a red heart, just like mine.
I stare at her message for the longest time, completely stunned out of my rage. “Do you think she . . . does she . . . maybe she . . .”
Michael wraps an arm around my shoulders. “That, my friend, means she likes you. I read about this in Cosmo.”
“I don’t know how you can stand reading those magazines,” Khai says as he gets up and collects our glasses. “I have a bunch of limes, so I’m going to make another round. I think Quan needs it.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I say as I drop back into my chair, still staring at her message and that red heart.
This changes things. I need to completely scrap my plans for tomorrow. It’s not just about sex anymore. If it ever was.
SIXTEEN