Page 50 of You Had Me at Hello World
“Your application was… eh. Nothing special. No offense. Perfect grades and test scores, sure, but everybody has that. Thatscript you wrote to catch the test bank thief took some cleverness, but it didn’t have any impact outside of your no-name school. The admissions committee was torn. People didn’t see the point in accepting you when we were already rejecting USAMO qualifiers and ISEF finalists.”
I don’t ask what those words even mean. Probably other competitions I’ve never heard of. “Uh.”
“But I wanted you,” he says, like he’s a savior swooping in to deliver clean drinking water to an impoverished village. “You reminded me of myself. From bumfuck nowhere. Surrounded by losers.”
My spine stiffens. I don’t like the way he’s talking about my background, even though he’s not entirely wrong.
“When I was a teenager, I was homeless for a while,” he says. “But I figured out how to survive. Got into college. Dropped out to catch the dot-com bubble. Made money.” From Edvin’s Wikipedia page, I already knew this origin story, but it hits different hearing him say it out loud.
“Most of the students we admit, they’re babies. They don’t have any grit. They don’t need any. I wanted you because you seemed resilient. Strong.”
I drink in the compliment. It’s embarrassing how good it feels that Edvin Nilsen thinks well of me. “Thanks.”
“So do me a favor. Prove that I was right to take a bet on you instead of Kevin Chen or whoever from Fremont who’s been winning math contests since they were in diapers.” He crosseshis arms. “What’s something unique about you? Something you could solve?”
I think. What’s special about Charise Tang? I’m a girl in a camp full of guys. “Maybe I could work on something related to reproductive health? Like a menstrual cycle tracker?”
“It’s not a bad idea, but there are already plenty of those out there,” he says.
From her corner, Janelle adds, “Also, the government can use that data to prosecute women for illegal abortions.”
“Oh.” That’s messed up. I hate that.
“Keep thinking,” he says.
I recall what Lola told me in the car.I’m worried about what’s going to happen to her once I’m gone.Her mother doesn’t have a large support system. Neither does mine.
Back in Portland, my mom used WeChat to find new friends, join local groups. Everyone typed in Chinese characters. But once we moved, she couldn’t do that anymore because there were no Chinese people around.
“Maybe an app for helping immigrants connect with each other?” I try. It sounds so trite. “It’s so difficult to move to a new country, especially if you don’t know people like you.”
For the first time since I walked in, Edvin seems intrigued. “Say more.”
So I tell him about how, before I was born, my mother lived in some dingy one-bed apartment with another roommate. She slept in the living room. It took her months to realize she waspaying double rent, and that was only because one of her school friends knew the tenant who Mom had replaced.
Edvin shakes his head. “Scamming a pregnant woman? Disgusting.”
That’s an obvious example of scum-of-the-earth behavior, but I’m thinking of all the little moments too. Like once, when my mom and I spoke Mandarin, a stranger asked why we even came here if we weren’t going to speak English. Or when she started going by Quinn instead of her birth name. When she stopped calling Michael out for wearing shoes inside the house. When she stopped cooking the dishes of her childhood. All the tiny sadnesses.
Being an immigrant in a new country means falling asleep under foreign stars that will never align themselves into the constellations you once knew.
Later that afternoon, when I tell Khoi about the meeting with Edvin Nilsen, he’s annoyed.
“Why didn’t you invite me? If the roles were reversed, I would’ve brought you along.”
“It’s not the same.” Khoi alreadyhasthe clout. People already respect him. He doesn’t need to build this connection the way I do.
“How is it not the same?”
I don’t know how to explain it. “Sorry? I didn’t know you were dying to see Edvin Nilsen in the flesh. He’s less handsome up-close.”
“I’m notdying to see him! It’s about theprinciple. We’re teammates. We shouldn’t hide things like this from each other.” He shakes his head. “Be careful. He didn’t get rich by being benevolent. Guys like Edvin always want something.”
“What are you suggesting? That he’s only interested in me because he wants something gross?” That’s so insulting. Besides, he’s married. Third wife, Australian actress who’s been in a string of Netflix rom-coms, I think. Or maybe he got divorced last year? Maybe I’m getting him confused with Elon Musk.
Anyway, he clearly wasn’t interested in me in some pervy, old guy way. His assistant Janelle was in the room the entire time.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Forget it. Did you get anything useful out of the meeting, at least?”
