“Yes,” I say. “Slowly, but yes.”
Su-Lin nods. “Then I definitely do.”
I bury my face in her neck, grateful that no matter how badly I’ve messed this up, she’s not ready to give up on me yet.
Nineteen
Su-Lin
Okay, maybe Brendan hasn’t totally ruled out the possibility of someday feeling the “I’m so in love with you and please be my girlfriend” thing for me. He wants to keep trying the Plan, which means he hasn’t totally given up. Which is hope, right?
I squeeze the steering wheel of Brendan’s beat-up compact car as I drive, trying not to examine how good of an idea it is to want to be with someone who has to try so hard to feel that way about me.
Because I don’t just want to be with someone. I want to be with Brendan.
And besides, he said he really liked the sex, that I clearly knew what I was doing (even if I did not, other than in theory). He said it was “fantastic,” actually, which is definitely how I viewed it at the time—though I would add a bunch more words to that, like “life-changing” and “amazing” and “holy shit, that was incredible.” I draw a deep breath. Fantastic.That’s definitely better than mall food court pizza. Nobody calls mall pizza fantastic. Someone might call Dominos or Pizza Hut fantastic if they hadn’t had pizza in years, which is probably more realistic. But I can handle that. I can get better, right? Learn how to toss the dough, add more spices to the sauce . . . okay, this metaphor is getting away from me. But he liked it. He said that.
I’m not sure how much I believe him about it being the best night of his life—though god, I wish it really had been—but given the kinds of things Candace apparently said to him about his own performance, not having someone be a total bitch after sex probably meant the night as a whole felt a lot better.That doesn’t mean the sex itself was actually as good as he was used to. Or that he feels the level of passion for me, that high he used to feel with her—despite all the horrible ways she treated him.
God, I want to punch Candace. (Though not as much as I want to punch Brendan’s dad.That monster.) How could she say that kind of stuff to him? How could she even think it?
There’s a tight lump in my throat, and I pull into my driveway. Dad’s car is gone, which is rare—he must have taken Lan somewhere.This is good. I’d rather not have to answer questions.
I told Brendan I needed to run home to pick up my dress for the masquerade, which is totally true but implies it was because I forgot to bring a dress, which is not true. I had a dress in my suitcase already, another fun, fluffy number like I wore to prom.
But at some point in our conversation—or maybe even when I was with Emily and whining about my Care Bears t-shirt—I realized I needed something more for tonight.
I need to wearThe Dress.
I know I’m not going to be on a date with Brendan tonight. But more and more, I’m starting to feel like the Casual Dating Plan—and more importantly, the desired results of said plan—is hanging by a very thin thread, though I’m not even totally sure why I feel that way. He did say that he thought it was working, if slowly, and it’s unrealistic of me to think that a single con’s worth of pseudo-dating other people would get him over some very real and long-standing relationship-panic issues.
Unrealistic, but still what I was hoping for.
He’s definitely not ready to be with me yet, though, even after what we did, and I worry that every moment is a step closer to him realizing he may never be.That I’m his best friend and a great person to have “ back in the saddle” sex with—he did say fantastic, after all—and he feels safe trying this out with me, but that there’s still something missing that he needs.
What if the problem now isn’t actually his issues, but just that I’m not the girl who can get him past them?The girl he can fall in love with?
He should get to be with that girl, even if it’s not me. No matter how much it breaks my heart.
But if there’s even the shred of a chance that I can be that girl for him . . .
Desperation.This is what I am, personified. I am just a ball of tiny Asian desperation.
And this dress is my Hail Mary.
I run upstairs and dig it out from the back of my closet, hoping it’s everything I remember it being.
I think it is. It’s a long gown, with this gorgeous, sheer, flowing fabric that’s the blue of the sky just before total dark. And speckled across it are tiny silver beads that shimmer like stars.The moment I first saw it, it reminded me of our beach house, of that fantasy of us lying in bed and staring up at the stars, of hearing the ocean lapping the shore just outside our big picture window.
Then I tried it on, in the dressing room of the bridal shop while Mei-Ling was out looking at veils, and I felt like a whole new person. A Su-Lin who wasn’t just cutesy and silly and fun, but as beautiful as the sky full of stars.The top of this gown basically has no back and not a ton on the front—enough to cover my breasts and hook into a delicate halter around my neck, but with a deep V in between. I was a sexy, confident Su-Lin who knew she could make someone feel more than friendship for her.
A Su-Lin who probably doesn’t exist. But in this dress, maybe she could, for the night.
I try not to think about how a relationship needs way more than a sexy dress. Because this is what I have now.This is what I can do.
When I get back to the hotel, it’s already almost time for the dance. I text Brendan that I’m here, and to meet me outside the ballroom. I’m shaking from nerves, and I can’t handle walking all the way to the hotel room and from there to the dance. I check myself one last time in the little mirror in the driver’s sunshade. My makeup looks good, and the advantage of having wet hair in braids all day is that the part of my hair I didn’t pin up has this natural wave to it, falling over one shoulder. I can’t see the dress in this tiny mirror, but I’m committed now.
I get out of the car and make my way to the big exhibition hall—the same one where the prom was held—and I wait. I shift from foot to foot. I consider the fact that I am half-naked in public. I think about whether the effect will be spoiled if I go back to Brendan’s car and grab that ratty old blanket from the backseat to use as a kind of hobo-chic shawl.
