by Mae Coyiuto
Looking forward to meet you,
Camille
Dear Future Partner,
I think Nikki is better. I still hear Taylor Swift when I pass by her room at night, but her eyes don’t look so swollen anymore. It can also be that I’ve been distracted by all the engagement talk in the house.
All the talk was probably 90% done by my mom. She was screaming at the phone the whole night because the venue she wanted for the reception was unavailable for the next five years. When you and I get married, I think we should leave our moms out of the planning process.
My day was pretty uneventful. School was okay, and ballet practice was not-so-okay. The only thing remotely interesting was that I kept on getting text messages.
I woke up to a “Hey.”
I didn’t recognize the number, so I didn’t answer. But the texts kept on coming.
My phone was constantly buzzing throughout class. When I finally checked my phone, it had messages like:
“Yoooooo.”
“Psst.”
“Where art thou?”
I was receiving a text every five minutes so I gave in.
“Who is this?”
“Ian.”
I didn’t know any Ian.
“Sorry, I think you have the wrong number.”
“Is this Cam (the reason why my favorite pants have tea stains)?”
“How did you get my number?”
And how did he know my name? I don’t remember ever mentioning it.
“Also, it’s Camille,” I added.
“It was on your pen. And Camille is too long. You need a nickname.”
“So what’s your nickname?”
“My name is short enough.”
“Ian and Camille have the same number of syllables.”
“Why are you so uptight? It’s just a name.”
“It’s MY name.”
“By the way, it’s not safe to put your name and number on pens. Some creep might get a hold of your number.”
Like him. He was exasperating.
“What do you want?” I texted.
“Do you want to go on an adventure?”
Who even talks like that?
“?”
“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” he replied.
“School.”
“I mean after school.”
“I have ballet practice.”
“Any chance you can ditch?”
“No.”
“Meet us by the carpark outside your school.”
“I told you I can’t.”
“We’ll be waiting.”
“Who are ‘we’?”
“You’ll find out.”
“What are you going to do?”
“See you tomorrow, Cam.”
“Camille!” I replied.
I had a million more questions for him, but he didn’t send any more texts. I ripped off all the labels off of my pens. Trust me, it wasn’t because I was listening to him.
Looking forward to meet you,
Camille
Dear Future Partner,
During one of my health classes, the teacher showed a video about drug use. It told the story of a teenager whose life was ruined from smoking pot. I don’t remember most of the details, but there was this one scene where it was a close-up of the main character right after he first smoked. He told his friends:
“Dude. I’m so high.”
I think those are the perfect words to describe my day.
I don’t know what came over me. I was in the car with Jenny on our way to ballet practice when I yelled, “Stop!” Jenny looked panicked and asked me what was wrong. I told her that I couldn’t make it today and to cover for me.
Going who knows where with who knows who—it was so unlike me. Every fiber in my body was screaming that it was irresponsible, dangerous, and something I really shouldn’t do. I guess the idea of using my time on something other than ballet practice overthrew those fibers.
Ian was there, smiling smugly, his hands across his chest.
“So this is the girl who labels her pens.”
That was Erica, but she preferred to be called Rica. She had a bob with a small red streak. She also had a tattoo on her wrist. I think it was the Chinese word for strong. I never really saw anyone my age with a tattoo before. I kind of wish that I had the guts to get one. The guy next to her was tall…and really good-looking. I already knew who he was because he went to my school, and the girls in my grade all had a crush on him at one point. He shook my hand and said, “Felix.” I smiled and said, “Camille.” The last one was Gabby. I see her around school, but we never had any classes together. Jenny, Bea, and the others sometimes talked about who they thought were the prettiest girls in school. No one ever forgot to mention Gabby. She wasn’t the common kind of pretty; she was the unique kind of pretty. Gabby was Felix’s cousin. Those were some insanely good genes.
Meeting new people was probably my least favorite thing in the world. I can do some small talk. But after the basics what’s your name, what school do you go to, I’m blank. I thought that they wouldn’t feel like they had to talk to me if I looked busy. I sat at the back of the car and played around with my phone.
“I can tell you’re not texting.”
Ian said it so loud that everyone heard. I actually felt the blood flow to my cheeks.
“You’ve been pressing the same two keys for the past ten minutes. Either you’re sending out complete gibberish or you don’t want to talk to us,” he explained.
“Will you stop being an ass?” Rica said.
“What? I’m being a great observer.”
“You’re being a great ass. Don’t listen to him, Camille. All of us have slowly learned to drown Ian out,” Gabby said.
“I’m just saying, if you don’t try talking, pretty soon people are going to stop trying to listen,” Ian said.
“God Ian! It’s too early for your words of wisdom,” Rica scoffed.
That’s when I knew that I liked Ian’s friends way more than I liked Ian.
Have you ever been to a circus? I haven’t, but I’ve seen trapeze artists in movies a few times. I had no idea that there were things like trapeze schools.
“Are we actually going to do that?”
“Yes, it’ll be fun!” Gabby said.
“I can’t,” I replied.
“Why not?” Ian asked.
“I can’t. I can’t do any extreme sports. I might get injured and we have this recital…”
Ian grabbed my shoulders and shook me.
“Maybe this will make you lighten up.”
“She doesn’t have to listen to you, Ian,” Rica said, but he ignored her.
“When I first saw you, you know what I thought? Well, aside from the fact that my clothes were ruined. I thought to myself, thank god I wasn’t like you.”
Him insulting me wasn’t really convincing me to swing twenty feet off the ground.
“You were so uptight and seeing you even made me feel stressed. I asked you to join us because you looked like you desperately needed some fun in your life. Swinging up there will make you feel the best you’ve ever felt. And you’re going to give that up because you’re scared of something that might not even happen?”
“Ian! Camille! They’re ready for us!” Gabby called out.
“Are YOU ready?” he asked.
I really had no idea what came over me.
Our instructor, Will, first taught us the proper stance, the form, and the signal words. Lean forward, back straight, bend your knees—it sounded like ballet practice. Will brought us to the practice bar and demonstrated how to properly grip and how to do a knee-hang. A knee-hang was basically swinging upside down with only your knees hanging on the bar. I was scared enough of doing it right side up.
Gabby volunteered to go first. She jumped before Will gave the signal word. She swung for a couple of times, and then she slipped. She fell onto the net, and I think my heart stood still for a moment. But she was
laughing.
“That was so much fun.”
Will went on to berate Gabby that she should listen and follow instructions, but I was pretty sure she wasn’t listening. Rica was arguing with the other instructor because she wanted to video herself while she was trapeze flying. The instructor was very adamant that she couldn’t grip the bar on one hand and hold her phone with the other. No matter how good she claimed she was at multitasking. Rica finally went up the platform when Felix agreed to video her. She kept on shouting at Felix while she was swinging.
“Make sure the lighting is okay! Make sure you do close-up and wide shots!”
Felix went next, and he was the first one who actually did a knee-hang. I could actually see his abs through his shirt. He was wearing a black shirt so it was even more impressive.
All of a sudden, it was my turn. My mistake was looking down. I was feeling pretty confident climbing up the ladder, until I saw how far up I was. I wanted to back out, but then I heard Gabby shout.
“You can do it!”
Pretty soon, I was on the platform and was strapped up. I could see the bar dangling, teasing me. I wondered how I would look like splattered on the ground after a twenty feet fall.
“Ready!” Will commanded, and I bent my knees.
I wasn’t ready.
“Hop!” Will cried.
The scariest part was jumping off. Then I was swinging. My breathing and heart rate jumped, and for a few seconds, I was weightless. Will instructed me to do a knee-hang. I brought my knees to my chest and hung them over the bar. Will then told me to let go, and I did. My hands were off the bar, and I was flying. I loved it.
I was surprised at how sore my arms were after, but I didn’t care. When I landed on the net, Gabby was exclaiming how great I looked up there.
“I got it all on video!” Rica said excitedly.
Felix gave me a small nod of approval.
I was curious to see Ian’s reaction. Okay, I hoped that he would look impressed and actually say something nice for once. But he was looking up at the trapeze rig.
Gabby put her arm around him and consoled him.
“You can do it. I believe in you.”
Ian didn’t say anything and started climbing. He was holding on the ladder really tightly. The ladder was moving because he was shaking so much.
“Is he okay?” I asked.
“Ian has a small fear of heights,” Gabby said.
The three of them cheered Ian on, with Gabby being the loudest. I didn’t think Ian was going to jump, but he did. He was screaming all the bad words I know and some words that I didn’t know but was sure were bad.
“Don’t close your eyes!” Will cried out.
But Ian kept on closing his eyes, swearing and swinging.
“Do you want to try a knee-hang?”
“Do I look like I can do a knee-hang?” Ian shouted.
I couldn’t help myself. I started laughing, and pretty soon, all of us were laughing. Ian landed on the net, and he was drenched in sweat.
“I have no idea how you convince me to do things like this,” he said.
Then Gabby kissed him. I don’t know why it shocked me that they were together. I guess part of it was my surprise that Ian had a girlfriend like Gabby. A bigger part of it was my surprise that Ian had a girlfriend.
I couldn’t shake off what I felt when I was flying. I know this sounds bad, but it felt incredible to not do what I was supposed to for once. I guess there’s nothing more I can say aside from…
Dude, I’m so high.
Looking forward to meet you,
Camille
Dear Future Partner,
Teacher Jessie always said that she couldn’t stand two types of dancers:
A. Dancers who are lazy
B. Dancers who don’t think
I was choice C—all of the above. I was so sore from trapeze flying and rusty from missing practice that my body already felt like giving in when we were warming up. I tried to focus, but I couldn’t pick up the combinations. I kept imagining that rush I felt when I was swinging twenty feet off the ground. Teacher Jessie was so frustrated with me that she didn’t even ask me to stay after practice.
But I really had no regrets. I kept checking my phone hoping to get a text from Ian about meeting them again. My phone was silent the whole day, but I kept hoping.
Our house was crazy today because well, my mom was going crazy. It was the fifth of the month, and that meant Aunt Julie was coming over. My mom was especially nervous because it was the first time she was going to meet Martin. My parents adore Martin, but they always thought it was too soon to introduce him to Aunt Julie. Meeting Aunt Julie was equivalent to being the sole fish in a tank of sharks. All eyes are going to be on you, and pretty soon, you will be dead meat.
When I got home from practice, Mom was pushing the couch in the living room (well, trying to).
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“You know that your dad’s sister is crazy about all that feng shui nonsense. She had this whole room rearranged and I distinctly remember that she wanted this couch in that corner.”
“Do you need help?”
When she looked up at me, I thought she was going to faint.
“You look terrible! Go shower and change into something nice!”
“But the couch…”
“Camille, are you trying to give me a heart attack? Go change!”
I showered and put on my favorite dress. It was the one Dad got me for my last birthday. But when I went back to the dining room, Mom had another opinion.
“Didn’t I tell you to change?”
I decided to stay in my room until Aunt Julie arrived. It was less stressful that way. I heard the doorbell ring and my mom shrieked for me to get the door. Aunt Julie looked like she always did. She had a pantsuit on and her hair was tied in the neatest bun. The woman never ages.
I kissed her on the cheek as I said, “Hi, Aunt Julie.”
“Camille.”
Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized me from top to bottom. We always had the same conversation:
Aunt Julie blabs stuff in Chinese.
Camille nods along.
Aunt Julie realizes Camille doesn’t understand Chinese.
Aunt Julie: Ni ting bu dong ma? (From multiple experiences, I know this translates to, “Can’t you understand me?”)
Camille says no.
Aunt Julie clicks her tongue and walks away.
You would think that having the same conversation every month would remind her that talking to her nieces in Chinese was like talking to a monkey. Actually, talking to a monkey would probably be more productive. Lea greeted Aunt Julie with the same peck on the cheek.
“Lea, no boyfriend yet? You know when a lady is almost thirty and unmarried, people are going to talk.”
“Actually Auntie, this is Martin. We’ve been going out for a while now.”
Martin reached out for Aunt Julie’s hand, but her hands stayed firmly on her sides.
She looked at Martin from top to bottom and walked straight to the dining room.
“Did I do anything wrong?” Martin asked.
“You’re not Asian enough,” Nikki mumbled.
We always had dumplings when Aunt Julie came over. We were all quietly eating at first. I wished it stayed that way.
“You should have put your kids in Chinese school, Henry,” Aunt Julie said.
“The schools they’re in are perfectly fine, Jie jie.”
“I talked to Camille a while ago, and she looked at me like I was a crazy person. You know, English is going to be phased out soon. Chinese is the new universal language. Camille, are you a senior in high school now?”
God. Why was I the one under scrutiny?
“Yes, Auntie.”
“What are your plans for college then?”
“She’s going to my alma mater, Jie jie,” Dad said.
“Why doesn’t she go for the Ivy Leagues?”
“The Ivy
Leagues aren’t the only good schools. Berkeley gave me the best training, and it’s going to give Camille the proper education.”
“You should be proud of your father, Camille. Medicine is a noble profession. Why aren’t you using chopsticks?”
Martin was eating his dumplings with a fork. Poor Martin.
“Oh, sorry.” Martin quickly grabbed the chopsticks next to his plate. He was holding them the wrong way, and the sticks kept slipping. He grabbed one of the chopsticks and stabbed a dumpling with it.
“No, no, no! What are you doing? That’s bad feng shui!” Aunt Julie exclaimed.
“Sorry Auntie, it’s his first time using chopsticks,” Lea said.
Aunt Julie clicked her tongue and ate another dumpling.
“So Aunt Julie, Lea tells me that you’re in corporate law,” Martin said.
“Yes, I am,” Aunt Julie said without looking up.
“I just finished law school myself.”
“Really? Where?”
“Yale.”
“Really?” Aunt Julie said. I had never heard her sound so interested.
“Yes. I would love to sit down and chat with you about your practice sometime.”
“Sure, I’m very busy so I have to check my schedule.”
I gave Martin a subtle thumbs-up, and he winked at me.
And Aunt Julie said, “Are you sure you’re not even a little Chinese?”
We moved to the living room afterward.
“Did you move the couch?” Aunt Julie asked my mom.
Before my mom could say anything, Martin cut in and started talking to Aunt Julie with all this law jargon. Aunt Julie was in an infinitely better mood. Aunt Julie was laughing. Actually laughing.
Lea excused herself to go to the restroom, and she was gone for a long time. Mom asked me to check up on her. Before I knocked on the door, I heard Lea say, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
When she joined us again, her eyes looked a bit puffy but no one else seemed to notice. I wanted to ask her about what I heard, but I decided not to because she might think that I was eavesdropping. I really hope she’s okay.
Looking forward to meet you,
Camille
Dear Future Partner,
Yesterday was my very first all-nighter.