Page 91 of You Had Me at Hello World
The revelation reminds me of the first time I saw the Milky Way, on a family camping trip in seventh grade, before things got really bad with Michael. We were in eastern Oregon, the middle of nowhere, and the night sky brimmed with countless celestial objects. The edge of the galaxy, a bright arc of silver, filled me with astonishment.
But the stars had always been there, no? I simply hadn’t been able to see them. They’d been washed out by artificial light, the light that comes from cities, the light that seems so important to us but is a mere speck compared to a star.
“Yes,” I say. “I do love him.”
I just haven’t told him yet. And suddenly, now that I know, I want to race outside, find him, and blurt out my feelings. They feel too big to be contained.
“Baobei,” she says, trying to hide a smile and completely failing at it. “I think you know what you need to do.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
But I can’t rush to Khoi immediately. I have to slay the dragon that is the Boston public transportation system.
First the red line is delayed by twenty minutes. Then my bus transfer at Porter Square gets held up by a passenger’s emotional support peacock that escapes its carrier. In retrospect, true love is probably worth calling an Uber for.
The Astors reside in Arlington, a suburb west of Cambridge. As I walk through the neighborhood, passing by these million-dollar homes on a sleepy street, I feel so out of place. Like a dandelion hiding in a field of daisies.
They’re in an adorable brick town house. White-picket fence, garden gnomes. It’s so quintessentially American.
I ring the doorbell. It sings through his house, shriller than I expected. Ugh. What if Khoi isn’t the one to answer the door? What if it’s his aunt or uncle? What if they think I’m not good enough for him? I’m suddenly struck by an urge to play ding-dong ditch.
But I force myself to keep my feet planted. I’m not going to run away anymore.
Seconds crawl by before the door opens.
When I see him, my breath catches.
Khoi looks better than he did yesterday. Healthier. Like he finally got a good night’s sleep. His black hair is shiny and the color has returned to his face. He’s beautiful, but of course, he always is.
He rubs his eyes like he’s not sure his vision is working right. “Char? How did you find this place?”
“It’s on your prescription labels.” I hadn’t meant to memorize the address, but somehow it had carved itself into my mind anyway. Like so many other Khoi-related facts.
We sit on the steps in the bright sun. There’s so much to say but I don’t know where to start. On the bus ride over I had this entire monologue I was trying out in my head, but now that he’s here, it’s completely dissolved on my tongue.
So what comes out isn’t a gorgeous, heart-wrenching declaration of love. It’s “I’m not going to sign with Edvin.”
I wasn’t totally sure what I was going to do until right this moment, but now that the words have left my mouth, it feels like the obvious choice. The only choice. I’ve already wasted too much of my life with trash dudes, forcing myself to tolerate their shit because I needed something from them. I don’t want to spend another second doing that.
Khoi doesn’t seem surprised.
“Yeah, I was wondering if you saw the news,” he says. “Myuncle is pissed since the Nilsens are a major donor to his university. It’s pretty terrible what Nexus is doing.”
“Did you know about that before?”
He leans backward, shifting his weight onto his hands. “There were always whispers.” I suddenly remember that Obi had mentioned something similar during the opening ceremony, which feels like a lifetime ago.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He sighs. “You seemed to really look up to him. I didn’t want to take that away from you if the rumors weren’t confirmed.”
“They’re confirmed now. I realized he was using me as a PR stunt.” I try to sound breezy about it, but it doesn’t quite work.
“I’m so sorry, Char.” He starts to reach for me but then he hesitates, like he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to do that anymore.
So I pull the guy into a hug, tucking my face against his shoulder. The scent of sandalwood soap wraps around me like a blanket.
“It was just kinda nice to have someone like Edvin believe in me, I guess,” I say into his shirt. Embarrassingly, my voice cracks on the last syllable.
