But something had changed with him, with the poke, and it hadn’t reverted back yet. I laughed in the right places and smiled when Andrew grinned at me, but unlike before, the spaces between were now empty. My parents didn’t seem to notice, perhaps because the spaces with them were always empty and they couldn’t see the difference. Still, though, I worried they’d notice at some point. And besides, I had paid through the nose and gums—I deserved a better performance.

I decided to talk to Andrew later, when my parents were asleep, to make sure we were still on the same page. And so he would know that the weird moment by the kitchen sink had just been part of my act, a clear failure, and to be forgotten. Forever.

Drew CHAPTER 10 LINE

Later that night, lying in my makeshift bed, my face toward the cushions, I heard footsteps. They halted by the couch. Waiting, assessing. I tried to breathe as if I were asleep, but I sounded gaspy with a side of sleep apnea. Was it better or worse for her to know I was faking?

When Jing-Jing had poked me, I’d had the urge to poke her back, which should not have been my first thought. Her parents hadn’t even been watching! And had they been (and I should have assumed as much, as per Rule 26—never drop character while the parents are under the same roof as you), I should have been thinking about how the Wangs’ Type C classification prescribed a hand graze or bright smile in return, not flirting with her as I would in front of Type A parents or, yikes, on a date.

To be completely frank (and Drew), I might not have been in operative mode for a chunk of that last interaction (which, what the hell, had never been an issue before).

Why did she throw me off my game? Why was it not about formulas and trained responses when she was around?

Had her poke been real? Her expression had shifted from playful to embarrassed (maybe even ashamed?) when I’d brushed her off. But it didn’t matter what she’d been thinking or possibly feeling. That couldn’t happen. It was too messy. Which was why I had swung the other way and acted so cold.

Rule 5 of the Rent for Your ’Rents Operative Handbook (a rule I had memorized but never thought twice about until today): Always know the line between the job and reality.

The mission, her future, and my livelihood (and thus my artist dreams) were on the line, pun intended.

Find the goddamn line, Drew, and dig it into the dirt until you never lose it again.