If You Could See the Sun

by Ann Liang

Despite myself, I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. Less than ten minutes ago, she’d been commenting on how my cheeks had grown rounder over the summer holidays; only by her logic is it possible to be too chubby and dangerously undernourished at the same time.

relatable content

Without waiting for the traffic lights to turn—no one here really follows them anyway—I cross the road,

Real

I sneak a peek at his Spotify playlist, half certain it’ll be all just white noise or classic orchestral music, only to find Taylor Swift’s latest album playing instead.

Cant escape taylor swift

I’m about to make a comment on it, but then my eyes fall on the laminated photo taped to his desk, and the significance of Henry Li secretly jamming out to Tay Tay pales in comparison. It’s a photo of us.

Jaw dropped

“No,” Henry interrupts, with surprising force. His gaze darts to some spot near my chin, as if he’s looking for me. As if I’m suddenly an important part of this conversation. “I have no interest whatsoever.”

HEehhhhe

“Cool cool cool,” she says, bouncing her head in beat with every word. “There’s also a little discount if you use my code, INTHERAINIE. It’s the same as my handle—”

This is crazy lol

the user wants me to remove a series of nudes from Jake Nguyen’s phone before he can send them out.

Ohhhh rainie

But here’s the thing about living in a place full of people who don’t look like you—whenever shit like this happens, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been singled out for a reason.

real

“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” For some reason, he sounds weirdly excited.

HE LIEKS HER

He’s dressed even better than usual today; his hair is all soft and freshly combed and falling just above his eyes, and he has on a crisp white shirt underneath, the collar strategically undone, the sleeves peeking out every time he moves his arms around. Maybe he’s heading off to a big event after this. A tech convention or something.

HES ON A DATE WITH U

“So. Where do you want to go?” Henry asks, his steps falling in line with mine. Our shoulders are just close enough to touch, which, I realize, isn’t something I should be noticing. I shoot him a strange look. “Wherever Vanessa is. Where else would we go?” “We could grab dinner first... Maybe walk around a bit—”

DATE!!!!!!

Henry’s voice comes out muffled through my palm, and only then do I realize how close we still are. How easy it would be, in our current position, to stand on tiptoe and tilt my head just so and— I lurch back. “Sorry,” I apologize hastily, bringing my hand back down. “I was scared she’d see us.” “No worries.” His tone is equally dismissive, nonchalant, but the tips of his ears are a deep pink.

OWO

I guess that’s the thing: I’ve spent my whole life longing to be seen, but I’ve also come to realize that when people look too closely, they inevitably notice the ugly parts too, like how the tiny cracks on a polished vase only become visible under scrutiny.

real

Chanel just winks at me, while Henry stares down with extreme focus at the single sesame bun on his plate, the tips of his ears pink.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Some emotion I can’t name passes over his face. He reaches out, his fingers forming a warm circle around my wrist, and I stop walking. Stop everything. “Then tell me,” he says, very quietly. “What exactly do you feel toward me now?”

U LIKE HIM

“I—” Confusion tangles my tongue, speeds up my pulse. Dimly, I think: He really is good at this whole distraction thing. “Why does it matter?” “You really don’t know?” I stare at him. Something is happening, I can sense it, but just like his expression, it’s impossible for me to decipher. “Know... Know what?”

HEHKJHDSKJHF

“Oh,” I breathe. Oh. Wow. I sit down on the carpet, dizzy with comprehension. After a few minutes of pure, unadulterated silence, I realize Henry’s watching me, sharp-eyed and tight jawed, waiting for my response. This might be the most nervous I’ve ever seen him. “Good,” I manage at last. “It’s good. For me as well.”

THIS IS THE CONFESSION?

He moves so our knees are close to touching, and I ask without thinking, “Is this the part where you kiss me?” He leans closer, and even in the dim hotel lights, I can make out the silent laughter in his eyes. “That was not my intention.” A pause, teasing. “Why? Did you want me to?”

yes

He gets up and walks closer so that he and Henry are standing face-to-face and asks, very slowly, “Are you...dating my daughter?” Oh. God. I definitely should’ve made Henry hide under the bed. “No, no, of course not,” I hurry to tell Baba, the same time Henry says, “Yes.” I whip my head around so fast I hear my neck crack, my heart flying into a frenzy. No way. Henry meets my disbelieving gaze with a grin, and I don’t know if I want to strangle him or throw my arms around him. This is all very confusing.