Page 60 of Somewhere Only We Know
The boat was driven by a lady who looked as old as time but had the energy and zing of a teenager. “Neih hou, Jack,” she said in greeting as we stepped on.
“Neih hou, dím a?” Jack said, handing a couple of bills to one of the crew, a young guy in a T-shirt, impervious to the cold.
She grinned widely, her tanned skin stretching to accommodate thehugeness of her smile. “Hóu hóu,” she said. Then she glanced at me and said something else to him in Cantonese. Jack held up his hands and laughed in response. She chuckled deeply, starting the engine.
We went upstairs to the top deck, snagging a couple of upholstered seats with great views. “I didn’t know you spoke Cantonese,” I said as Jack sat down next to me.
“Not that well,” he said. “Most people here can speak English, but I like to butter up Mrs. Hua because she’s the only driver who doesn’t make me seasick. Well, notthatseasick.”
“I can’t believe you’re getting on a boat twice in one day,” I said as I closed my eyes and let the breeze glide over me.
“I have to give you the full Hong Kong experience,” he said. When I opened my eyes he was watching me with a strange expression. Was he going to kiss me again?
How soon was too soon to kiss again, anyway?
But it didn’t happen. We sat there silently with him looking at me, the sound of the waves lapping against the boat as it started to move, repetitive and lulling.
“What?” I asked after a few more seconds went by without any kissing.
“You were good at the tai chi back there,” he finally said, his lips hitching up into a smile.
I laughed. “Thanks.”
“You’re good at a lot of stuff.”
The sun was almost gone but the words warmed me. “Yes, I’m great at eating and tai chi.” I felt nervous from his attention. Jack payedsuchclose attention to me. It was unnerving but also incredibly pleasing. It was a type of attention that I should have been used to as a celebrity, but felt totally new when it was with a boy I’d kissed and held handswith all day. I guess this was what it might feel like to be in a real relationship.
I understood. How it was like a drug. Intoxicating and all-encompassing. I’d been floating along in that feeling for the past couple hours.
“You’re also good at a lot of things,” I said, turning to him, my arm draped along the top of my seat.
He shook his head. “Not like you.”
“Jack, I learned to get good at a lot of things,” I said. “Hours and hours of work. This is a job.”
Blast. Church choir was my job?!
Luckily, Jack didn’t seem confused by that. He was too busy concentrating on breathing like he did on the ferry to dodge nausea. “So, I asked you earlier. Does it still bring you joy?”
A chill went through me. I stared into the skyline alongside the water. The buildings reflected brilliant colors from the setting sun. “Yes. And no.” Those three words unpacked something in me that I had been keeping tightly locked away.
“You talked about why you liked singing. Do you still feel that?”
Twenty-four hours ago I had been on a stage, singing. And I remembered feeling the euphoria. But it had been mixed with something else. Weariness. Dread.
“I feel it. But it’s been a little polluted,” I answered carefully. Not sure when everything I was saying could turn into something that no longer made sense for a girl in a church choir. “Something’s changed but I don’t know what it is or what to do about it. So I do nothing.”
“And stay miserable?”
I looked up at him sharply. “I’m not miserable.”
He untied his green shirt from his waist, pulling it on as a cool breeze whipped over us. “You were running from something last night.”
It was true, but I didn’t like it being so obvious. “I was hungry.”
“Yeah, I remember,” he said with a smile. “But you straight-up panicked when I tried to get you back to your hotel.”
The moment in the alley came back to me. When Jack was about to call me a car, moments before I passed out. It had freaked him out.
