“Excuse me, but this is our house,” Mr. Wang piped up.

Crap. I knew her parents were pro Jing-Jing & Hongbo, but their Category 1 personalities were also supposed to respond positively to a protective significant other.

As I faltered, unsure which way to play this, Jing-Jing also stood.

“Hongbo, please leave. You’re not welcome here, at least not by me.”

He shook his head at her. “Like I said, UChicago is a safety school, which explains why you have no brains, girl. I don’t need this shit.” He turned to me. “Be careful, dude, because she might be a lesbian since she said no to this.” He gestured dramatically to himself, chin up, chest out.

How did he manage to be worse than the monster Jing-Jing had described?

Hongbo stomped off.

Mr. and Mrs. Wang trailed after him, yelling “Hongbo! Please! Jing-Jing doesn’t mean it!”

I turned to Jing-Jing, whose fists were clenched. She slowly sat back down.

“Sorry,” she said, her voice and eyes faraway. “I… He… It’s—”

“You don’t have to say any more,” I interrupted.

We shared a sad smile. I hovered a hesitant hand over hers, unsure if she wanted comfort from me, Drew, while her parents were nowhere in sight. She reached up and grabbed it, and we sat in a quiet that would have been comfortable if not for the bang-your-head-against-the-wall words floating down the hall.

Tell your parents Jing-Jing is as virginal as they think.

Anthony’s just a friend, we swear.

Jing-Jing’s too innocent to know what’s good for her, that’s all!

“Do you want to get out of here?” I asked.

She didn’t say anything. Just shot up out of her chair and led the way out the back door.

Chloe CHAPTER 7 NON-FRANKENBĀO

As I stepped into our poorly-cared-for backyard—the previous owner’s plastic pink flamingo looked like it had died three deaths with its deep-rooted brown smudges, toppled form, and gaping hole—I heard the front door open and slam shut. Then raised voices filled the air.

Andrew and I hurried through the once-white gate, through the neighbor’s backyard, and onto the street.

Once we were a couple doors down—in the opposite direction Hongbo would be heading—I paused. Were we just going for a stroll or did we need a destination? And given that we were in my neighborhood, were we supposed to act like a couple to keep up the charade? Did we want to stay away for a bit so I could catch my breath, or should we use this very expensive time to let Andrew work his operative magic?