(1)
"Hey, how about coming to my place?" Chenhui suddenly said to me.
We were standing outside The Joker's at the time. Although my head felt a bit woozy, I was still very much aware of what was going on. But thinking about how red Chenhui's face had been earlier, I didn't feel right about letting him go home alone. So, I'd decided to hail a taxi and take him back myself.
"Aren't we going to your place now?" I asked him, a bit puzzled. Friday nights were the worst when it came to finding a cab – we'd been waiting for at least ten minutes and hadn't seen a single empty one go by.
"That's not what I meant. I'm saying… how about staying over at my place tonight?" he clarified.
"Why?" I asked, though I was never going to say no. Still, he hadn't mentioned anything about this before.
"No real reason. Just thought of it." Chenhui watched the cars pass by casually, then added, "Your mom won't mind, right?"
"She won't. I'll just give her a call in a bit," I said.
"Great. Then let's go catch a bus." Chenhui said cheerfully, starting nudging me toward the bus stop.
"Huh? aren't we taking a taxi?" I turned my head, confused.
"I want you to get familiar with the route. Just in case you might want to come over by yourself someday," he explained.
I thought about it for a moment and figured he had a point.
Buses were way easier to catch than taxis. Before we got on, Chenhui reminded me – again and again – that we'd get off after four stops, and that the stop was practically right in front of his place. While he was talking, I looked at him sideways, wondering if he really thought I was that forgetful.
"I mean, it's not like I'm gonna be visiting you on my own all the time. Do I really need to remember it that clearly?" We squeezed onto the bus, which was packed with people. We managed to push through the crowd and find a spot where we could at least stand side by side.
"You never know," Chenhui said with a grin, resting one hand on the back of a seat and pointing out the window with the other. "When the bus stops in a bit, you'll see where I went to junior high."
That was actually new to me.
Although I'd always wanted to know more about Chenhui, the amount of information he was sharing felt a bit overwhelming. He told me which restaurants and stores he used to go to near his old school, where he took art classes when he was in kindergarten, and even about a time he got mugged in a dark alley by some thugs. When he mentioned the last part, the middle-aged man sitting in front of us turned around and gave Chenhui a weird look.
"You're acting like we're on a blind date or something," I joked to him as we got off the bus and he led me towards his residential compound.
"What are you talking about?" he glanced back at me before continuing ahead. "I just thought you'd never been around here, right? Do you remember the bus stop we got off at? It's just outside the 7-Eleven."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," I said, closing my eyes in mock frustration. "You've been nagging about it since before we even got off."
Chenhui laughed. "Good. As long as you remember."
(2)
His place wasn't hard to find. Once inside the compound, we just walked straight to his building unit. It was the apartment on the left of the 11th floor.
"Your mom's not back yet?" I asked, surprised to find the place in the dark when we walked in.
"She's probably working overtime again," He said casually while taking off his shoes. "Sometimes she's so busy she doesn't even come home at night, and she might not even tell me. Like today." He shrugged at me.
His bedroom was bigger than mine. It looked like the master bedroom of the whole apartment. Walking to the balcony inside the bedroom, the huge floor-to-ceiling windows offered a perfect view of the fountain in the courtyard. Though it was already late, a few children were still chasing each other and laughing around the fountain.
"If I had a balcony like this in my room, I'd be doing my homework out here every day," I said while gazing out, almost to myself.
Chenhui smacked the back of my head and laughed. "With a balcony like this, couldn't you just relax with a cup of tea or something? Why homework?"
Okay, that was fair.
Walking back into the bedroom, I stared at his clean white walls and said, "I was expecting to see some Robbie Williams posters on your wall."
"Mom didn't like them. She wanted the walls to stay clean, so I took them down," he said while walking to the window and pulled the drapes fully open. It was almost completely dark outside. The courtyard lights shone in. He then turned on the light.
"What's that?" I pointed at a box-shaped object on the nightstand, covered with a striped cloth.
"A turntable," he said, walking over and uncovering it. It was a beautifully crafted turntable. The base was solid wood in a warm brown tone, and a clear cover sat over the record platter.
"You've got both a CD player and a turntable?" In a time when MP3 players had long been popular, I was honestly surprised that someone would have such a complete set of playback equipment.
"Yeah. I prefer vinyl records, but they're just too expensive for me. I mean, I don't have that much pocket money, so I mostly buy CDs," he said, opening a tin of gum that was next to the turntable and tossing a piece into his mouth. "Want one?"
"I'm good. Anyway, why did you cover it up? Guess you haven't used it for a while, huh?"
He let out a small sigh and smiled, "I just used it yesterday. Mom covers it whenever I'm not home. She's a bit of a neat freak, I guess."
That was funny. My mom did the same thing. She'd cover anything that hadn't been used for more than two days with a piece of cloth. Sometimes I wondered if she already knew what she was going to cover when she bought the cloth. If a burglar ever broke into our place, he'd probably think we were off on a European vacation. And just when he was about to let his guard down, my mom would strangle him from behind – with one of those cloths.
Maybe all moms were like that.
While I was picturing that ridiculous scene, Chenhui put on a record.
"Close your eyes so you don't fear them. They don't need to see you cry. I can't promise I will heal you. But if you want to, I will try…"
It did add some atmosphere to the room. Without any posters, it had felt a bit empty before.
"Is that your dad?" I pointed at a small, framed photo next to the turntable. His mom stood beside a man who was holding a baby version of Chenhui. They were all smiling so brightly. But the second I asked, I regretted it because I suddenly remembered what his mom had said to him outside the office that day.
You're just like your father. So disappointing.
Thinking about the tone in which she'd said that, I still felt a little shiver.
"Yeah. I was two, I think. We might have been traveling somewhere, but I don't really remember," he said, kneeling by the bed, sorting his records in a big case, eyes fixed on his task.
"You do look kind of like your dad when he was young."
Hearing this, he stopped sorting, got up, and sat beside me on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. "Yeah, I think so. But I don't know if I still look like him now. It's been years since I last saw him. And I never ask my mom anything about him either. I guess he must have done something that really disappointed her. Oh, right, you heard what she said that day," he said with a helpless smile.
"Sorry."
"So I'm always trying my best not to let her down."
"Even if it means taking down posters from your wall? Stuff that small?"
"Probably." He smiled. "I think the only thing I didn't listen to her about was throwing away this photo. He's my dad, after all. Besides this one, there aren't any other photos of him in the house."
"I'd do the same if I were you."
I never expected this to be the situation at his place. I didn't talk about my dad much either, but mostly because he'd never been in my life to begin with. I never felt the need to bring him up. Sometimes I did feel curious, but I didn't know how to ask my mom, so I just let it go. But I did see photos of him in our family albums growing up – I always knew what he looked like.
"You never mentioned your dad either," Chenhui said, lying back on the bed.
"It's not that I don't want to," I turned to look at him. "But asking me anything about my dad is like asking me how to calculate the minimum speed a car needs to stay at the top of a loop, given the loop's radius."
Chenhui burst out laughing. "What does that even mean?"
"It means I have no idea," I smiled. "Besides giving me a last name, he never left anything behind in my life."
"Okay, that makes sense," Chenhui nodded.
"Someone said the truth will out. I believe without a doubt, in you…"
I suddenly noticed the music from the turntable and said to him, "Chenhui, I think we've been listening to the same song since you put that record on."
"Crap. I must've hit repeat," he said, reaching out to grab the remote control on the other side of the bed.
"Oh no. Don't do that," I stopped him. "I was gonna say I really liked this one."
He looked a bit surprised, raising his eyebrows. "This is my favorite one. It's called Eternity."
"You were there for summer dreaming. And you gave me what I need. And I hope you find your freedom, for eternity…"
"It's really good," I agreed.
"Take the CD version with you when you go home tomorrow." he said.
I replied, puzzled, "No need. I don't even have a CD player at home."
Without saying a word, Chenhui got up, walked over to his backpack on the chair, and took out his portable CD player.
"Take this too," he said, walking back and placing it next to me.
Looking at the player, I suddenly felt like something was off. Ever since we'd left the bar, things just seemed a bit strange.
"You keep it. We can still use it at school," I said, looking at him. "Why are you giving it to me?"
Chenhui looked back at me but didn't say anything.
"So what's the real reason you suddenly invited me over? It can't just be about listening to music, right?" I pressed on, starting to feel uneasy.
Chenhui laid back down, staring at the ceiling. "Because I'm leaving. My mom has already arranged for me to transfer schools."
What does it mean – "transfer schools"?
My mind instantly flooded with a hundred questions all at once. I wanted to ask when this decision had been made, why he was transferring, who else he'd told, and which school he was going to.
But in the end, I didn't ask any of them. Because no matter what the answers were, they couldn't change the fact that it was happening. I even had the urge to check if he was actually sober, or just acting crazy from being drunk.
"She's been looking for a better school for me for a while. She's always thought I should transfer to a better school before the third year…" Chenhui continued, his tone so firm it left no room for doubt.
Thanks for the information, I thought. But honestly, none of that mattered to me. I didn't even know if I should congratulate him now that he was going to a better school.
"I've told her so many times not to transfer me, but she won't listen," Chenhui went on, talking to himself more than to me. "I just kept hoping she'd change her mind and call it off. But it looks like it's too late for that…"
I always thought high school was a long, endless stretch. Every day was filled with non-stop exams and practice. Sometimes in math class, I'd feel like I'd gone through the full storyline of the entire Harry Potter book series in my head, only to check my watch and see that just ten minutes had passed. And summer only made it worse. The scorching sun seemed to melt the clock's hands, making the already dull class feel even more never-ending. But just when I'd finally found a reason to make peace with summer, what Chenhui just dropped on me made me realize that this semester was about to come to an end. And with it, so was the summer.
"Yang?" Chenhui prodded me. "Are you still listening?"
"Oh, yeah, I am," I snapped back to reality. "At least I can still come to your place. That's why you brought me here today, right? And I have to tell you, I really do remember the route. It's not that complex at all."
Chenhui smiled, and softly sang along with the music, "I'll sing a summer serenade. The past is done, we've been betrayed. It's true…"
So maybe, just maybe, things won't be that bad.
We're not really saying goodbye.
Right?