If We Ever Meet Again

by Ana Huang

  Farrah dropped her hand from her throat and wrapped an arm around Kris’s waist. “I know.”

  Kris rested her head on Farrah’s shoulder in an uncharacteristically vulnerable gesture, but neither girl acknowledged its strangeness.

  Instead, they stood there, soaking in their last moments together in this place, while the storm raged outside.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The lights dimmed. The music swelled. The air filled with giddiness and nostalgia.

  Within an hour, the FEAers transformed the program’s staid dance into a rave reminiscent of their heady first days in Shanghai, only this time, it was a last hurrah instead of a kickoff.

  Blake leaned against the wall and sipped his drink. A few months ago, he would’ve been right there with them on the dance floor. Now it felt wrong. Were soon-to-be dads allowed to dance like that? The parenting e-books he downloaded didn’t cover party etiquette for parents.

  “Did you do it?” He sensed the new presence next to him without having to turn his head.

  “Yeah.” The disapproval came through loud and clear. “You should’ve done it yourself.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “You have arms and legs. You could’ve picked up that locket, walked into the dorm and up the stairs to Farrah’s room, and handed it to her.”

  “You know that’s not what I meant.” Blake tossed back the rest of his drink and slammed it on a nearby table. His head pounded with tension.

  “I don’t know shit because you won’t tell me shit.” Sammy jabbed a finger into Blake’s chest. “You better clue me in fast unless you want another punch to the face. Obviously, you still have feelings for Farrah, so why the big breakup?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Uncomplicate it.”

  Blake exhaled sharply. He looked around. Everyone was too lost in their own worlds to pay attention to him and Sammy. Luke, Leo, and Nardo gathered at the bar with a few other guys. Courtney and Kris danced like maniacs to the latest Top 40 chart-topper. Farrah and Olivia were nowhere in sight.

  “Not here.”

  Blake led them to the terrace and closed the sliding door behind them, muffling the music and raucous laughter. The rain had cleared, and the moon shone bright in the sky.

  Sammy leaned against the railing and crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s hear it, Ryan.”

  “Who are you, and what have you done with Sammy Yu?” Blake tried to lighten the mood. He’d known Sammy for months. He’d never seen him like this.

  Sammy didn’t smile at the unintended play on words. “It pisses me off when people hurt my friends, and you hurt one of my best friends. I want to know why.”

  Sammy might tell Farrah. She was, as he said, one of his best friends.

  But this was Sammy. As much of a stranger as he’d been this past month, he would never go back on his word.

  Blake’s jaw worked as he rifled through his options. “Promise you won’t tell anyone. Not even Olivia. Especially not Olivia.”

  “I promise.”

  Blake hesitated another second before he spilled the beans. New Year’s, Cleo, her pregnancy, why he broke up with Farrah. Everything. As he spoke, Sammy’s expression morphed from anger to shock to sympathy before settling on a mix of all three.

  “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re going to be a father.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re in love with Farrah, and you’re having a baby with someone else.”

  Blake flinched. Sammy’s matter-of-fact summary of his mess hit harder than it should have. Blake had months to reconcile himself with his situation; clearly, he still had work to do.

  “You need to tell Farrah.”

  “No!”

  Sammy’s eyebrows shot up at Blake’s vehement response.

  Blake sucked in a deep breath. The mere thought of Farrah finding out the truth had his heart skittering like a panicked rabbit. “She deserves a clean break.”

  “She thinks you played her.”

  “And that’s the way it’ll stay,” Blake said grimly. “You promised.”

  Was it better that Farrah thought he played her instead of cheated on her? Probably not. Given his harsh words the night they broke up, cheating was more redeemable—even if she did hate cheaters. After all, Blake didn’t even remember his night with Cleo.

  But that was the point. Blake didn’t want to be redeemable. Farrah deserved a clean break, and she couldn’t get one if she thought he still loved her and just made a mistake over New Year’s. She had to think he never loved her at all. It was the only way she could move on.

  A spike hammered into Blake’s heart at the thought of Farrah moving on with someone else.

  “Jesus.” Sammy rubbed a hand over his face. “What are you going to do?”

  “The only thing I can do. Go home and be a father.”

  Sammy’s gaze flicked toward the balcony door. He pushed himself off the railing and clapped a hand on Blake’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

  Something in his tone compelled Blake to turn around. His blood ran cold.

  Farrah stood in the corner, half-hidden in the shadows. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew every curve of her body. Her scent, the way she moved, it was all imprinted into his memory.

  “How long have you been standing there?” His pulse pounded with fear. If she heard what he said…

  “Right after Sammy left.” Farrah stepped out of the shadows, and his heart tripped over itself trying to get to her. Standing there bathed in moonlight, she reminded him of the first time they kissed. The Great Wall, the stars, their kiss…they may as well be a dream from a previous life.

  Blake shoved his hands into his pockets and clenched them into fists, stopping his runaway emotions in their tracks. “You found your necklace.”

  Her pendant rested against her throat, where it belonged. At least one thing went right today.

  “Sammy found it.” Farrah fiddled with her necklace. “You guys looked like you were having an intense conversation.”

  “We were reminiscing,” Blake lied.

  This was their first conversation since the plane ride. Farrah wasn’t ignoring or yelling at him, but he would’ve almost preferred that to her obvious yet civil contempt.

  “What time is your flight tomorrow?” Small talk wouldn’t wipe that look off of her face, the one that said she thought he was lower than scum on the bottom of her shoe, but he was desperate to hear her voice.

  “Ten in the morning.” Farrah glanced over her shoulder toward the ballroom. “You?”

  “Eight. At night. I’m one of the last ones out.”

  There was a beat of silence. “Well.” Farrah stepped toward the door. “Have a safe flight.”

  “Wait.” Blake didn’t know what made him do it. Maybe it was the fresh air or the fact it was their last night together. Maybe it was a last-ditch attempt to reclaim the magic of a love lost, if only for a moment. Whatever it was, it made him close the gap between them until they were only inches apart. “I need to tell you something.”

  Farrah stared up at him, her eyes liquid in the moonlight, her face inscrutable.

  “I—” Blake reached for her before he thought twice and dropped his arm. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For everything.” For more than you can know. “I never meant to hurt you. I was a jerk when I broke up with you and I’m sorry.”

  He was repeating himself from the plane, but dammit, he needed her to know.

  “You were more of a jerk when you cheated on your girlfriend.”

  Blake flinched. He deserved that. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch.

  “I have something to tell you too.” Farrah’s voice was as smooth and cool as glass. “Thank you.”

  He must’ve heard her wrong. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re right. You are an asshole.”

  “Er, I didn’t say I’m an asshole—”


  “But you taught me some important lessons. One day, I’ll find the person I can trust more than anyone else because you showed me everything I shouldn’t look for.”

  Blake’s heart wrenched. It’d be so easy. Right then and there, when he and Farrah were the only people in the world, it’d be so easy to tell her the truth. It wouldn’t set things right—he cheated on her, even if he didn’t remember doing it—but at least she’d know. Everything he did, everything he told her was true. She was the love of his life.

  Then he remembered the look on Cleo’s face when she told him she was pregnant. His family’s reaction. The folder of parenting e-books on his computer. How his mom was already picking out color swatches for the nursery.

  He remembered all the reasons Farrah couldn’t know the truth, and so he said the words that scraped his throat raw when he forced them out.

  “I hope you find him.”

  Farrah’s nostrils flared. For a split second, her stony mask cracked, and he saw the hurt in her eyes.

  His heart wrenched again.

  Farrah turned and walked into the ballroom without another word.

  All Blake could do was watch her leave. There was nothing left to say, except the three words he could never say to her again.

  I love you.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The FEAers ended their night at the only place that made sense: Gino’s. Their home away from home. In the past year, they spent enough money here to keep the bar in the green for at least another twelve months, which may have been why the owner treated them to a round of free beers on their last night.

  Courtney raised her drink and looked around at the dozens of faces staring back at her. “Guys, we’ve made it this far. This is our last night. Our last chance to make sure we don’t leave Shanghai with any regrets. Say what you want to say, do what you want to do, or forever hold your peace.”

  Farrah flicked her eyes toward the back of the group, where Blake stood still as a statue.

  I hope you find him. His words echoed in her mind, taunting her.

  “We go back to our own cities and lives tomorrow, but no matter what happens, I think it’s safe to say this is a year we’ll cherish forever. So, cheers!” Courtney raised her drink higher. “To FEA, Shanghai, and a night we won’t remember with friends we’ll never forget!”

  “Cheers!”

  Farrah lifted her glass as FEA erupted into a cacophony of chatter and glasses clinking.

  In her peripheral vision, Farrah saw a tear slip down Janice’s cheek. The end of the semester hit everyone harder than expected.

  Janice caught Farrah’s eye, and the two girls exchanged watery smiles. They were roommates, not friends, but Farrah wouldn’t forget the way Janice comforted her the night of her breakup with Blake. Part of her wished she’d gotten to know Janice better this year, but it was too late for that.

  “I can’t stand this sentimental shit,” Kris said.

  “Don’t lie. You love it.” Olivia draped an arm over Kris’s shoulders. “I’m going to miss you.”

  Kris sighed and finished her cranberry vodka. “I’m going to miss you too.” She caught Farrah’s eye and rolled her eyes jokingly. Farrah smiled. Kris may be prickly, but she would kill for her friends. That type of loyalty was hard to come by.

  The music switched to The Wanted’s “Glad You Came,” one of Farrah’s favorite throwback songs. Her heart ached at the lyrics. Of all the cities in all the world, they ended up here. But what if they hadn’t? Even if one person chose another city, this whole year would’ve been different.

  In that way, the lyrics couldn’t have been more fitting, though she knew the song was about orgasms.

  That was fitting too.

  Farrah’s mouth tilted up at her own inside joke.

  She might have loose ends to tie up. She might never forget Blake, and she might not see half the people here again, but she was grateful for everything that happened these past eight months. How lucky was she to have spent a year in Shanghai, to have strangers turn into family, and to have loved so deeply it left scars on her heart?

  Her and Blake’s story didn’t end in a happily ever after, but he’d showed her that love—that deep, all-consuming love people wrote songs and movies and books about—was real. Farrah experienced it, even if he hadn’t. While this story hadn’t turned out the way she hoped, perhaps the next one would.

  Farrah took a deep breath and pushed her sadness aside. It was her last night. Time to enjoy it.

  She joined her friends on the dance floor. Sammy’s unbuttoned shirt bared his muscular chest, a sure sign he was drunk. Courtney hopped onto Luke’s back and fist-pumped the air, even though they weren’t playing fist-pumping music. Olivia and Kris took turns spinning each other around until Kris crashed into Nardo, who tried to start a conga line. No one except Flo joined him, but it was nice to see him loosen up for a change.

  “Farrah, get your sexy ass over here!” Courtney climbed off Luke’s back and corralled Farrah, Kris, and Olivia into a group hug.

  “I love you girls,” she said, her blue eyes bright with emotion.

  “No crying,” Kris warned. “It gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

  Olivia’s jaw dropped. “Did Kris Carrera just use the term ‘heebie-jeebies?’”

  “No, I didn’t. You can’t prove it. If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”

  They cracked up at the same time. Farrah took a mental snapshot and tucked it away in her box of cherished memories. She hoped she never forgot the love she felt in that moment.

  “This is it, guys.” She squeezed her friends tighter. “Let’s make it count.”

  And for the rest of the night, they did. Farrah and her friends soaked up the magic of their last hours together, surrendering themselves to the music, the lights, and the pulsing neon energy that coursed through Shanghai.

  Tomorrow seemed like ages away.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Midnight came and went. Blake didn’t join FEA’s revelry, afraid of the secrets that might spill out should he drink too much. Nevertheless, he couldn’t bring himself to return to the dorm.

  After Courtney’s toast, Blake went outside for some fresh air. He ended up staying on the bench by Gino’s entrance, watching the comings and goings of after-hours Shanghai: the street vendors hawking meat skewers to drunken revelers. The cab driver chain-smoking out his open window. The group of hip teens drinking by the curb, even though it was a school night and they couldn’t be older than sixteen.

  Blake tried to square the scene in front of him with his life back home: neighborhood barbecues, white picket fences, and minivans in the Texas suburbs. He couldn’t.

  He remembered arriving in Shanghai and being overwhelmed by the noise, the people, the strange foods and sounds and sights. He’d never visited Asia before. Hadn’t even thought about it until he quit the team and the ensuing chaos forced him to run as far away as possible.

  Blake hadn’t expected to love this city so much. It had its flaws, but this year it became his home away from home. Here, he was free to be who wanted to be—and he liked who he was in Shanghai.

  It opened his eyes to a world beyond Texas, and now that he’d seen it, he didn’t want to go back.

  His son or daughter would grow up, and if the bar was successful, he’d expand. If not, he’d try a different market. Either way, Blake wasn’t meant to stay in his hometown for the rest of his life. That, he knew for sure.

  As the wee morning hours wore on, FEAers trickled out of Gino’s in waves. Some had early flights; some had other activities in mind.

  Luke and Janice were the first to leave. He winked at Blake on his way past while Janice nuzzled his neck. As far as Blake knew, they’d spoken less than ten words to each other before tonight.

  Ending the semester with a bang—literally. Good for them.

  Courtney, Kris, Leo and Olivia left next. They all ignored Blake except Leo, who acknowledged him with a slight chin tilt.

  B
y the time the clock struck two, most of FEA had left.

  Except Farrah.

  Worry niggled at Blake. He was about to check on her when the door swung open and a sobered-up Sammy stumbled out holding Farrah. Her eyes were half-closed; her head lolled forward on her chest.

  “Is she ok?” Unsure of what to do, Blake stood, sat, and stood again.

  “Yeah. She should be fine after some rest and water. She fell asleep in there, and Gino’s is about to close.” Sammy propped Farrah up against the railing. “Can you bring her back to the dorm? I have to get Nardo. Last I saw, he was hurling his guts out in the bathroom.”

  Blake hesitated. “Sure.” He draped Farrah’s arm over his shoulder and wrapped his free arm around her waist. “Go take care of Nardo.”

  “You’re not leaving till tomorrow night, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Cool. See you later.”

  Sammy disappeared inside while Blake struggled to guide Farrah to a cab. She didn’t weigh much, but it wasn’t easy dragging 115 pounds of dead weight down the stairs and across the street without killing either of them.

  Blake finally corralled them into a taxi. The minute they sat down, Farrah dropped her head onto his shoulder. Her soft snores filled the back seat, drowning out the maudlin 80s ballad on the radio.

  Blake’s mouth edged up into a smile when he remembered how Farrah used to deny she snored.

  Outside, the streets of Shanghai whizzed by in a blur of lights. Blake tried to focus on the passing cityscape instead of the girl next to him. How many times had Farrah rested her head on his shoulder while he held her? It was such a familiar sensation he almost tricked himself into believing they were still a couple.

  He didn’t touch her. He was too afraid to even look at her, lest his heart break all over again. Still, he felt like he was taking advantage by stealing these private moments when she wanted nothing to do with him when she was awake.