Only time will tell what kind of ending is in store for me. One day, and one time zone, at a time.
I wake up to Sandra tapping me on the shoulder. “You need to put on your seat belt, dear. We’re landing soon.”
I reluctantly slide my sleep mask up on top of my head and look around as other passengers awaken and straighten their seatbacks.
“I guess that glass of wine knocked me out.”
“That’s a good thing. You want to look rested when you land, don’t you?” She winks.
Once I’ve come to my senses and gathered my stuff, I turn to see Stephen looking at me. His gaze is so intense, it feels as though he’s been staring for a while. It’s a bit annoying, but I just wave. He grins and waves back. Unlike me, he looks as fresh as a rose, as though he’s just shaved, showered, and changed into a new outfit. In the space of one flight, I’ve already made two new friends.
In just a short while, I’ll be meeting Henry at Shanghai Pudong International Airport. I’m nervous. I’ve got butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I recall Sandra’s words: “You’ll know what to do.” This helps me calm down enough that I manage to smile, thinking about the adventures that await me.
Before we land, I scribble my email address, phone number, and blog information on a piece of paper and hand it to Sandra.
“I’d love to keep in touch with you, Sandra. Especially since I’ll be far from my family and friends.”
A smile spreads across her face. She fishes through her handbag and hands me her business card. “Of course, Clementine. You’re like the daughter I wish I had.” She pulls out a bag filled with cosmetics and offers it to me. “Here, feel free. You know, before meeting your new friend.”
This woman is amazing. I take a peek inside the bag. There’s organic rose face spray, lavender hand cream, makeup removing wipes, and some Yves Saint Laurent perfume samples. I smile at her, grateful. I may not be dressed like a Parsons fashion student, but at least I’ll smell like one.
“Well, you’re like the mother I wish I had,” I say, and her face lights up like the sparkling lights along the Bund.
“Thank you for saying that, Clementine.”
“I mean it,” I reply, just as our captain tells us to prepare for landing.
After spraying some of the refreshing rose mist across my face and soothing my hands with lavender cream, I feel more prepared to hit the ground than I did when we first left New York.
Although we’re landing, I feel ready for takeoff.
Chapter Eighteen
“HEY, CLEMENTINE, welcome to Shanghai!”
Oh my. There’s no doubt about it: Henry is the definition of handsome. Never mind handsome — he’s hot.
I zero in on him, and any travel fatigue I had disappears. I forget that I’ve just landed in Asia, that I’m sweaty and dishevelled and surrounded by a barrage of different sights and sounds. I’m in one of the busiest airports of the world, but I hardly notice the thousands of travellers rushing around me to find their luggage. I wonder if Sandra would consider this a sign.
Henry greets me with open arms, as though we’ve known each other for ages. His smile is as devastating in person as it is in his photos, if not more so. He looks as laid-back as can be, without a care in the world.
After Stephen and I have fetched our luggage off the carousel, Henry reaches for my carry-on bag like a true gentleman, and my heart does a few flip-flops.
I can’t take my eyes off him.
While we wait for a taxi to take us into the city, I take in Henry’s outfit. He’s wearing a simple white T-shirt, a blue linen jacket, and classic blue jeans, cool aviator sunglasses, and fine leather shoes. I can tell he’s all about understated style and high quality. No cheap fast fashion for this young man. He scores points for that.
His easy smile and friendliness put me at ease so that I don’t even feel self-conscious about looking like a rumpled mess. Instead, I feel empowered by the fact that he doesn’t seem to care what I’m wearing.
His hair is neatly parted sideways with a bit of gel, reminding me of a young Tony Leung. He was the male lead in my father’s favourite movie, In the Mood for Love, directed by Wong Kar-Wai. It’s set in Hong Kong, and it’s about two neighbours who find out their spouses are having an affair and then wonder whether they should do the same. It’s about desire and lost love. I guess it reminds my dad of his own challenging love life, and it helps him to see his own life’s drama, my mother’s infidelities, reflected in a film masterpiece.
“Cool bag, Clementine,” Henry says, referring to the funky bag with the sassy slogan that Jake gave me. His English is perfect. He speaks with a hint of an accent, but he’s clearly spent a lot of time in the States.
“Thanks. It was a gift from my best friend.”
“It suits you!” he says, batting me on the shoulder playfully. I tense up at his touch at first, then immediately melt.
“Thank you so much for picking me up.”
“My pleasure. Welcome to Shanghai.” He grins and I melt a little more.
I can’t believe my luck. But then I remember that I’ve arrived in a nation whose culture is preoccupied with luck and fortune. I have a feeling that a lot more luck is waiting for me.
“Whoa, Clementine, this place is amazing!” Henry says as we walk into my apartment.
We first dropped Stephen off at his posh high-rise, then Henry came with me to the closest police station to get my fingerprints taken, which is mandatory for all non-residents of China not staying at a hotel. Henry offered to take me out to eat after I’ve dropped off my bags at the apartment rented by Condé Nast for its exchange students.
“I know! I can hardly believe this place will be mine for the whole summer.”
I’m as impressed as he is by the floor-to-ceiling windows and the magnificent view overlooking the courtyard below. Knowing that I’ll have this place all to myself makes me giddy. It’s a step toward independence: I’ll have complete autonomy over what I do, say, and eat, and over the messes I make.
I saunter from room to room like a kid in a toy store, noticing all the details: the touches of pastel, the local art, the many potted plants. There’s a small but well-appointed kitchen perfect for making quick meals and hosting my favourite thing in the world, weekend brunches. There’s an L-shaped living room with a white sofa and a low coffee table covered with stacks of fashion books. The bedroom is decorated with touches of gold, tiny Buddha statues, and a stack of colourful pillows that give the space femininity and charm.
The main attraction is a large yellow-painted antique desk placed in front of one of the big windows. I can see plane trees, flowers, and people sitting on park benches below. This is where I’ll write my blog posts for Bonjour Girl. I just know I’ll be super prolific and creative here. I can’t wait to get started covering local designers and Chinese fashion issues — and to post the piece I wrote on the plane.
Henry flips joyfully through the pages of a large fashion book. His passion reminds me of Jake, and this makes me smile. I guess your vibe attracts your tribe.
“I’m so lucky this place was available. My cousin Maddie says it’s really hard to get. I guess it was divine synchronicity.”
“You are lucky,” Henry says with a grin. He seems so at ease with me. Is that a blessing or a curse? “And meeting you is divine synchronicity.”
I blush. Here we go again.
“I think you need a painting on that wall over there,” Henry says, touching his index finger to his nose thoughtfully, like a gallery owner.
“It is a bit bland, isn’t it?” I say, laughing at the all-white walls, something Jonathan would appreciate. I prefer bright pops of colour.
“Yes, the complete opposite of you,” Henry says. He’s flirting, but it’s harmless fun, I tell myself. There’s nothing to worry about. Right?
“Oh, stop it. How do you know that? I may just disappoint you by being supremely boring.”
“Pfft. I don’t buy it!” he shoots
back. “But what I am buying is dinner. You must be starving.”
“Totally!” I’m also jet-lagged, in desperate need of a shower, and dying to call Jonathan, Maddie, and Jake. “How about we try a café nearby so I can freshen up first? I’ll meet you in an hour.”
“Sure. Let’s meet at Baker & Spice down the road. They make the best soups. And I’ll get you a special coffee to help with the jet lag. Take all the time you need.” He disappears into the hallway, leaving a trace of his elegant scent: a mix of lemongrass and neroli. I try not to get too affected by it, but it’s tough.
Before contacting anyone, I fall back onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling, just taking a few minutes to soak up this glorious moment.
I’ve made it halfway across the planet, and I’m about to begin an exciting fashion program. The bullying I faced last semester was just a test to build my inner strength. It was all worth it.
Eventually, I reach for my phone. It’s six in the evening here, which means it’s six in the morning in New York. I’ll take a chance and call Jonathan to wake him with a kiss.
I dial his number, but it goes directly to voicemail. I feel a pang of worry. I hope everything’s okay. Then I try Jake and again, get no answer. I finally try Maddie, who picks up with a squeal.
“Hel-lo, Clementine! How was your flight?”
“Great! I slept really well and I met an amazing lady named Sandra. She’ll be your temporary replacement,” I say.
“Sounds good, as long as it’s only temporary! How’s the apartment?”
“A dream! It’s gorgeous, Maddie. I’m so happy and grateful. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Now I’m worried that you’ll never come back!”
“Very unlikely. I can’t stay away from my tribe for too long. How are you doing?
“This place is deathly quiet now. I already miss you.”
“Me, too. I wish you were here so we could stroll around the designer studios. I know how fond you are of Chinese fashion.”
“I wish I were there, too. There’s a amazing store you need to check out called Song Liung. They’re committed to promoting up-and-coming local designers. And sustainable fashion, too. Shanghai is on the cutting edge of eco-fashion.”
“Yeah, I read about that on the flight.” Eco-conscious fashion designers here are leading the way to a greener future with recycled and organic couture. Apparently, in Shanghai, it’s easy to find chemical-free baby clothes, bamboo evening gowns softer than silk, and purses made from recycled billboard paper.
“You’re going to adore that store. Maybe something to write about on your blog?”
“Sure.” This reminds me of Brian’s advice. He thought I should write about local stores, designers, and retail. If Maddie likes it, then so do I.
“Okay, I gotta run. I have a dinner date and a call to make before I go,” I say, looking at the time. “Can you please let my parents know that I made it here safely?”
“A dinner date already? You don’t waste any time, do you? It doesn’t sound like you’re missing me or anybody!” she teases. This makes me think of something I once read about Shanghai: “New York may be the city that never sleeps, but Shanghai doesn’t even sit down.”
I have a feeling my life is about to get busy — and that’s the way I like it.
“I’m so proud of you for doing this, Clementine,” she says. “I know there was some hesitation, but I know you’ll come back a changed woman. I’ll let you get to your dinner, and don’t worry, I’ll contact your mom. Have fun, okay?”
After Maddie hangs up, I wonder just how much change I’ll be going through.
One more call to make.
“Hey, Ellie. I’m so glad I managed to catch you online,” I say, as her face comes into view on FaceTime. “I need to talk to you about something.” For the last month, Ellie’s been on a short-term exchange program at a Parisian design school that specializes in intricate beading, but she’s finally back in New York. She’s one strong female friend I can count on.
“How’s Shanghai?”
“I just landed, but so far so good. I’ve already made some friends and I’m looking forward to classes.”
“So what’s going on?” Ellie asks, taking a sip out of a mug. She looks pretty in a lilac tunic with delicate dragonfly embroidery on the collar. It contrasts nicely with the tattoo of Marie Antoinette on her arm.
“I can’t talk too long right now because someone’s waiting for me, but I wanted to tell you that I’m worried about Jake,” I begin. Ellie cares about him as much as I do.
“Why? What happened? We FaceTimed a few times when I was in Paris and he seemed okay. Just a bit tired.”
“That’s what I thought at first, but it’s more complicated than that. He’s all over the place and it’s affecting his creativity and his health. He’s really struggling to keep up.”
She gives me a puzzled look. “Aren’t we all?”
She has a point. Balancing school, work, and personal projects requires a gargantuan amount of energy and focus. And the need to focus on time-intensive activities, such as sewing and drafting patterns and chasing down internships, adds to the pressure of fashion school. Furthermore, studying in New York has a particular downside. It requires money — lots and lots of it. Students who don’t come from a wealthy background struggle to make ends meet.
“Yeah, but he’s also in serious debt … from gambling. He started off playing online poker, trying to make a little extra cash, and it got out of hand. He’s got a full-blown gambling problem.” Jake would kill me for talking about this, but I need to know someone’s looking out for him while I’m away.
“What?” Ellie’s eyes nearly pop from their sockets.
“What’s more, he’s borrowed from some shady people, and he owes so much that they’re threatening his family now.”
“Oh my god!” Her purple manicured fingers pop against her skin as she clutches her face.
“Our sweet Jake is in a really bad place.”
She looks worried, and I know what she’s thinking.
“I don’t think Jake would do anything to harm himself,” I say, “but we still need to watch for it. I convinced my dad to carry some of Jake’s skirts in his shop in Paris, but then Jake gambled the advance money away and failed to deliver his samples. He’s so devastated and ashamed about it. I just don’t know what to do now that I’m out here. I need your help. We need your help.”
She leans forward. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Wait … you’ll do what?”
“I’ll make sure the skirts are made,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Really? Do you have time for that?”
“Sure, I’m not taking any courses this summer. I have a part-time job and that’s it. I’ll make the time.”
“Wow, Ellie, that’s great.” I’m amazed by her generosity. “But I’m still worried about Jake’s safety, with those loan sharks after him.”
“I’m not too worried about them,” she says, tapping her long nails on her desk.
“No?”
“My brother’s in the NYPD. I’ll call him if they try anything.” She grins.
“Perfect! Thanks, Ellie.”
“That’s what friends are for, right? We’ll figure it out. Jake’s been a great friend. It’s the least I can do.”
I sign off, relieved and filled with hope. I can relax a bit. This will be a good summer after all.
Chapter Nineteen
I ARRIVE OUT OF BREATH at the café Henry picked. It looks and feels like one of those cool New York City coffee shops I love, but with an Asian twist. The menus are written in English, French, and Mandarin, and there’s soft lounge music playing. Thankfully, I can read and speak all three languages fairly well, thanks to my dad, who “highly encouraged” me to take Mandarin and English classes all through high school.
On display, there are buttery croissants, soups and sandwiches, and salads. The young women behind the counter are both stylish and friend
ly, welcoming me with warm smiles. I have a feeling this place will be my favourite hangout.
I’m feeling refreshed in my pink prairie skirt, T-shirt, Adidas sneakers, and layered vintage necklaces, including one that belonged to my paternal grandmother from Beijing and one that belonged to my maternal great-grandmother, Cécile. It’s a look that represents the different facets of my heritage.
Henry waves at me from a tiny corner table, looking relaxed and perfectly at home.
“Hi there.” I take a seat. There’s a cappuccino waiting for me with a heart drawn in the foam. That video, and now this heart. Is this a subtle message?
I decide not to make anything of it. Henry has a leaf drawn in his foam. Maybe it’s just luck of the draw.
“Do you mind?” I ask, taking out my phone. I want to take a picture of our coffees and post it on my blog to announce that I’ve landed safely in Shanghai. I know Jake and Ellie will both get a kick out of it.
“Of course not. I just did the same myself,” he laughs. “I ordered some soup for us, I hope that’s okay. This isn’t the most traditional cuisine, I know, but I’ll make it up to you some other time, I promise. I know a few excellent traditional restaurants that will blow your mind.”
I refrain from mentioning the restaurant Jake mentioned, but I smile to myself, thinking about its silly name and the plastic hair rollers on its walls.
“That would be great,” I say, still focusing the phone camera on the foam pictures in our coffees.
“You’ll have to add this to your WeChat, too. I saw that you’ve been posting on there for a while. Your writing style is solid and the social issues you talk about are so important. You’ll have a massive following in China in no time.”
“Thanks. I’m working on it.”
“So how long have you been at it — blogging?”
“Not that long. I used to post more often, but I’ve been really busy with finals lately. I’m looking forward to posting more frequently again.”
He nods, as though taking in what I’ve said and analyzing every word. I wonder what he’d think of all the advice I’ve been getting to take a more commercial direction.
Bonjour Shanghai Page 9