Page 40 of A Banh Mi for Two
“Hold on to me tighter this time. Tighter than when we saw the kites.”
Blushing, I wrap my arms around her, and instead of simply holding on, I’m embracing her—embracing the girl who makes me burn. She maneuvers with her legs through the flood, mumbling sorry whenever water splashes onto my clothes. Soon, we reach an intersection and join the other motorbikes swimming through the current, the murky water dragging plastic bags and leftover food and plastic chairs. The rain beats down on our backs and I press closer to her, wishing to shield her from the stinging shower that threatens the softness of her skin. Around us, people tread water with their motorbikes, but the chaos of the city only intensifies. Some are rushing home, swerving past us without honking and not caring about who they’d bump into.
“Ouch!” I yelp. Something just cut me and it stings.
Lan whips her head around. “Are you okay?”
My leg throbs in pain, and a line of red trickles down my foot and inks my white socks. “Yeah, I think—I think something scratched my leg. I’m okay though, just keep going.”
Lan says nothing and we continue, swimming through the currents while I tighten my embrace. She leads us onto an unfamiliar road and stops in front of a pharmacy. “Here, let me help you get down.”
“Lan—”
Wrapping me in her arms, she gathers my shoulders and helps me wobble to the front steps of the pharmacy. “You’re not fine. I felt you hissing in pain from behind me. It’ll get infected if we don’t treat it.”
She lowers me onto the stoop by the storefront, wiping rainwater from my knees. “Wait here,” she orders, and heads for the pharmacy’s counter.
I nod, fidgeting with my hands and the sloppiness of my socks and shoes. Lan comes back carrying a first aid kit. Dropping to her knees, she wipes water off my legs with a towel. Finding it hard to stay still, I grit my teeth.
“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know,” I whisper. I know that she wouldn’t. Ever.
She holds my knees gingerly, tenderly, brushing feather-light touches on my goose bumps, kissing it all with her fingers. The pain dissipates, replaced by the searing heat of skin to skin—thundering heartbeats matching the drums of the monsoon. She locates the slit on my leg and gently rubs the disinfectant on it. The medicine stings, and I tighten my jaw. Lan intertwines her left hand with my right one, smoothing the lines of my palm as she works on my leg with her other hand. Outside, the thunderstorm pounds on the roof, joining the chorus of motorbikes honking and trees howling with the wind.
She places the bandage over my cut, pausing before letting her touch fall from my skin.
Chapter NineteenLAN
Vivi and I rode home in silence. Even the brisk rain couldn’t extinguish the burning inside my chest. As I reluctantly watched her back disappear behind the dormitory doors, I thought about the way our hands touched, the way my fingers lingered on her back, and the way she hung on to me.
I slip inside the house, careful not to kick Tri?t while tiptoeing past the living room. I’m dripping wet from head to toe, my clothes leaving puddles on the floor behind me. Má snores softly from her room, the ceiling fan whirring above. Tri?t, to his credit, doesn’t snore. He’s sprawled across the bamboo mattress in the living room with two pillows tucked under his arm and a stack of engineering books piled next to his head. In the dark, I bump into the living room table and groan.
“You’re back?” Tri?t mumbles, half-asleep. He rubs his eyes and yawns, making me jump.
“Shh, you’ll wake Má up!” I whisper-yell.
He sits up and clears a space on the mattress for me to sit down. “Relax. She’s not going to yell at you. You’re grown.”
I shove the pile of textbooks onto the floor, grimacing at its weight, and sit down. Outside, the thunder and rain drown out all the sounds of Sài Gòn. “Not that… I just don’t want to wake her up. She needs rest.”
He gives me an incredulous look and bursts out laughing. “Is that what you tell yourself? It’s not because you don’t want her to find out about your girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?” I scoff.
He slides back down onto his back and shoves me away with one leg. Offended, I slap his arm.
“Go to bed. I don’t need your negative energy right now. I have an exam tomorrow,” he says.
“Here’s some good energy,” I say, making rippled waves with my arms pointing at him. “Feel it yet?”
He pretends to catch the nonexistent energy waves. “Sure. You can tell me all about your date tomorrow.”
I roll my eyes. “Who says that I’ll tell you?”
“Then who else are you going to talk to about it?”
I smack his arm again, earning a hiss from him. “I’m going to sleep. Good luck tomorrow.”
