Neel went back. Fading of my attraction for him was a relief. The embarrassment about my earlier behavior was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the quiet satisfaction of reclaiming my own mental space. My brain stopped its involuntary chanting of his name. He hadn't texted or called to hear my answer, and I hadn't either.
It was in this new, clear state that I found myself rushing out the door for a movie date with Sayma. We armed ourselves with chips, planning a covert operation of snacking.
The movie started, and the chips were crunchy—too crunchy. Every bite and every champ sounded deafening in the theater's quiet lulls. We quickly developed a criminal's instinct, timing our chewing with explosions or loud music on screen. We felt like the worst kind of villains, our mission to eat chips without being heard. When the movie finished, we swore a dramatic oath to God that chips would never again cross the threshold of a cinema.
My next destination was the university for the Chinese calligraphy competition. It was near the mall, so I waited for Sayma to catch her bus, then bolted. I arrived just as the competition was about to begin, making me the last student to take a seat.
Teacher Wang was the invigilator. I greeted him—the same teacher I'd met at the Mid-Autumn Festival. He pointed me to a spot. My friend waved me over, having saved a seat. "I kept this one for you," she whispered. I thanked her, and the competition began.
I wasn't in it to win; I didn't even know the proper stroke order. I just knew I could copy what I saw and wanted to try. My friend, the talented one, was the sure bet for a prize. When we finished, Teacher Wang announced the results would be posted in a few days. We walked home together, buzzing from the afternoon's events.
Two days later, the winners were announced on the WeChat group. And to my utter shock, my name was there. In the first winner's row. Four of us had tied for the top spot, including me and my friend.
I clicked on Teacher Wang's profile, scrolling through his moments all the way back to 2018. It was fascinating to see how he had grown over six years. His feed was full of travel, nature, and beautiful scenery. One photo stood out: him standing in the middle of a field of bright yellow flowers beneath a clear blue sky.
I painted it.
At the next class, I went to his classroom and asked if I could show him something. Another student needed to speak with him, so he invited both of us to his office. He asked me first. I carefully pulled out my painting book and showed him. Both of them were genuinely surprised.
"Can you guess the picture?" I asked.
He smiled. "Yes, it's from my moment."
The student with us was lavish with praise. As I was about to leave, Teacher Wang said, "I want the painting."
I hadn't expected that. I had just wanted to show him. To be honest, I didn't want to part with it, but there was no polite way to refuse a request from a teacher. I had to give it to him.
Later that evening, after waking up from a nap, I saw a new message from him on WeChat.
"Both that classmate just now at my office and me think that the painting is wonderful. And I showed him the real picture, he was impressed by your painting."
I was flattered. I thanked him. We ended up chatting for a long time. He asked about my interest in China and about my education plan. I told him how desperately I wanted to study there. He wished me good luck, and a new understanding seemed to be forged between us.
During the next class, I got a text from him: "Benny, have you joined in today's class? Please come to my office after class if you came today. I have something for you."
I checked the message and smiled, a rush of excitement and happiness washing over me. I realized with a jolt that I was starting to like him. After so many years, I finally had a crush.
"I replied, 'Yeah, I have come. Today we had an exam. Ok, I'll be there.'"
I ran to his office the moment the class bell rang.
The gift was beautiful: a small, intricately designed píng fēng (folding screen) from the Palace Museum in Beijing. He even told me the history of the palace. I thanked him, and then, a little dazed by the new feelings swirling inside me, I quickly left and went straight to Sayma's home to show her the gift.
She took one look at the beautiful object and the blissful, wide grin on her face, and the teasing began.