Dear Coco...
Dear Coco...
Coco...
I used to hate studying before school—used to dread coming to school at all—but ever since the teachers put us in the same revision group, I find myself excited to wake up....
Have you ever stared at someone and wondered how it’s possible that the universe could be so kind to them? To give them not only extraordinary beauty, but also such a warm personality, a lovely laugh, effortless charm....
I get this funny feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I think of you....
Forgive me if this comes across as overly forward, but your existence lends meaning to mine, which I can only take to be a miracle, as I’d always thought of the world as a cruel, inherently meaningless place....
I wanted to extend my congratulations on your first runway walk. It comes as no surprise whatsoever that you’ve made it in the modeling world.
Do you still remember me? I know it’s been years, but I can’t stop thinking about you....
Sometimes I find myself revisiting the route I took to school. You only walked with me that one time to help carry my books while I was limping, but it was, truth be told, the best day of my life. I honestly wouldn’t have minded if my ankle had remained twisted, just to give me an excuse to walk home beside you....
Thank you for the wedding invitation. I hope you’ll forgive me for being unable to attend....
I can’t stand it anymore. You’re too good for him. I’m sorry, but you are. He doesn’t deserve you, he’s never deserved you. But right now, you’re also too good for me. I understand that. Give me three years, Coco, and I promise, I’ll be good enough. I’ll provide you with everything he does and so, so much more. If he buys you a mansion, I’ll buy you two, with a hedge mazeand a tearoom like you always wanted. If he buys you a luxury handbag, I’ll buy you the whole brand. If he flies you out in business class, I’ll fly you out on a private jet. I’ll make the entire city bow down to you.
I have to stop reading to breathe. A hot, tingling feeling spreads through my scalp, like there are invisible insects crawling all over me.
Long Ge. My mom. Of course she’s had her share of admirers, men consumed by their love for her, sick in the head with it. Like that stalker who’d broken into our holiday house in Sanya last summer and was sitting right there on our couch when we came in. Or the one who had gotten a photo of my mom’s face tattooed on his back.
But this level of obsession is unlike anything I’ve seen before.
“Xiao meimei, did you get lost on your way to the nail salon or something?”
I startle and hurriedly drop the letters back into the drawer before I spin around, coming face-to-face with two leering men. I take in their bruised knuckles, their rough features and week-old stubbles, and instinctively reach into my purse, my heart pounding.
Still, I make myself smile at them. Try to keep my cool. “I was just waiting for a friend.”
“Ah, you got a friend here?” One of the men laughs and steps forward. He’s three heads taller than I am, perfectly blocking the doorway. “We can also be friends.”
My clammy fingers close around the glass of my perfumebottle. “No, thanks,” I say mildly. “My friend might get jealous, you see. I’ll wait for him outside.”
But the man only steps closer. He smells like the train station—like cigarettes and ramen powder and unwashed clothes. “Why don’t you stay a bit longer?”
“That’s fine,” I say as firmly as I can.
He acts as if he hasn’t heard me. He looks me up and down in a way that’s as familiar as it is nauseating. Then he reaches for me, and I pull out the perfume bottle and spray it wildly, my eyes squeezed shut, knowing I’ve aimed in the right place only when I hear his grunt of pain. I open my eyes to find him doubled over, clawing at his face and coughing—
But his friend is still standing, and his eyes narrow at me.
“That wasn’t very nice,” he says.
I hold my perfume up like a gun and press down again, but nothing happens. I try one more time, my throat tight with desperation, my fingers trembling so hard that I almost drop the perfume bottle.Shit.The nozzle is jammed.
All my thoughts are lost in the sound of my own scream as the man corners me, seizing me by the wrist. I try to squirm away, but it’s futile. I don’t stand a chance, and he knows this. He yanks me to his side with such callous force that I fear he’s dislocated a bone, and I’ve never been so terrified, never been so mad at myself for getting into this situation in the first place, and I’m so fucking screwed—
There’s a flash of shadow, the heavythudof a collision.
Ares slams the man down, pinning his squirming body in place as if he’s nothing but a worm in the dirt. There shouldn’tbe anything graceful about this, the crunch of bone and the splash of blood and gasps of pain, but Ares moves with all the streamlined grace of a natural fighter, a wolf determined to clamp its jaws down on its prey.
Then he lifts his head, his blazing eyes locking on mine. “Go,” he says. “Run.”
