Out of here, headed closer to San Francisco.
“That’s…so soon.” I say, breathless.
“No more waiting, no more wondering. Just us, starting over in a new place we can call home for a while.”
I push down the growing panic spreading like acid through me because I’m going to lie to Marcus. I can’t tell him about Nick, and ruin this moment or any future moments. I’ve takenhim from one life already, and I won’t do it a second time. He wants Stanford, and I want us, so I’ll keep what I know to myself and pray to any and all gods who will listen that Nick never finds us.
CHAPTER 7
Marcus,
Answers to your 3 questions.
Yes, yes, yes. And once more in case you’re confused: yes.
Just below my belly button…mm-hmm. Yep. I’m sure of it.
Maybe, maybe not. You’ll have to wait and see.
I love you,
Mei
My autopilot feature is back in action. Thought it broke when we left San Francisco, but as I scan boxes, moving them, stacking them, my head’s nowhere near this warehouse. It’s already at Stanford. Already on the soccer field. Settling into a new place with Mei in the best of all possible worlds. Wish I could call Dad and tell him. but then again…no, I don’t. Our worlds are now two very different places.
I bend and lift a heavy box to burn off the hurt and anger that always slips in when I think about Dad. I toss the box into the passing trailer, not even breaking a sweat. This job has kept me in shape, but that’s about it. I definitely won’t miss it when I walk away from it next week. Except I’ll miss the paycheck. The agreement was that Mei and I would work for Jerry for free rent and a small stipend, but he’s paid me every week and paid me well. I’ve saved a bunch of money. It’s not enough, but it’ll help us get settled at Stanford. Just not sure where yet, even though we’ll be there next week.
I’ve said a lot of panicked but grateful prayers this week, and my mild panic is the only thing keeping me from wishing we were leaving today. Also, after talking to my coworker on lunch break, I wanna take Mei somewhere cool before we head to Stanford.
He told me the perfect place for a mini vacation. A mini vacation…or a honeymoon. If this is gonna be my new life, I want it with Mei, and thanks to Wen and all her prompting, marriage has crossed my mind about a hundred times, making a few permanent tracks through my head.
My cell phone chirps, and I set down my scanner, pull the phone out of my pocket, and glance at the number. My thumb immediately slides over the button. “Hello?”.
“Hi, Marcus? This is Sherina returning your call about on-campus housing.”
“Oh—yeah, hey. Thanks for calling me back. Just curious about the process to get into your couples housing. I have a full-ride soccer scholarship, but my girlfriend’s coming with me so we need an apartment, and I was wondering if my scholarship could help us get campus housing.”
“I’m happy to go over all your options if you have a minute.”
I glance around, looking for my manager’s orange hair, which is usually pretty easy to spot in a world of cardboard andmetal, but he’s nowhere, and I gotta take this call, so…if he fires me, he fires me.
I walk down the wide aisle between towering stacks of boxes and forklifts whizzing past me and head outside where there’s less beeping. This conversation could mean a place for Mei and me to live. Together. Motorcycle, Stanford, Mei. Happiest Marcus ever.
I ask Sherina a thousand questions, she gives me two thousand answers, and when I hang up, I set my phone on the cement picnic table I’ve been sitting on, my butt numb because I didn’t move so I could catch every detail. But holy freak.
An ant strolls across the cement table, navigating around all the holes that are probably more like craters to him. I wonder what he’s after and hope he gets it, because I just got everything I wanted, plus some. If I marry Mei, we can apply for grants for her to go to culinary school. My scholarship will pay most of the rent. If I marry Mei, she stays with me forever, starting right now. If I marry Mei, our life begins officially, and no one can end it. It’s ours. Nick can do nothing about it, even if he wasn’t in jail. Mei and I can put everything that’s happened in the last six months behind us. If Dad thought me dating Mei was crazy, he’ll give birth to a donkey when he hears I married her. If I ever talk to him again, which is doubtful.
I blink away from the ant and back into my world where the craters I was navigating this morning have disappeared. I squint into the hazy sun. Marry Mei? Yeah. Definitely. Right now, though? Like…this week?
I scan the gray metal buildings. They’re stuck in one place, rust creeping onto them. Doing the same thing they did yesterday and who knows how many days before that.
Not gonna be me. I’m marrying Mei. We’re doing this life thing together.
So if I’m gonna marry her, I need to propose. And it has to be like…soon. Tomorrow, actually. We have to be married before Stanford. Six days. It’ll take that long for us to get there if I take Mei to San Juan Island. Three days there, two days driving…one day left.
My heart picks up speed and takes a crash course through my head. Every corner I turn has a flashing “MARRY HER” sign, and there are no brakes on any of these thoughts—just full throttle toward Mei.
I snatch my phone and jog back inside the warehouse, looking for orange hair, which I spot bobbing above row 38. “Darrell!” I yell, and he whirls around, his orange safety vest reflecting the florescent lights.