Xiumiao is making her parents’ dreams come true by staying in Houston for college, while Melissa goes off to the rural wasteland (by which I mean medium-sized college town) where Texas A&M is located, and I’ll be in Austin at the University of Texas. Xiumiao and I have been in the same classes since pre-K, and with Melissa since sixth grade—it’s weird that soon we’ll be in totally different cities/rural wastelands.
“I think I’ll remember what your face looks like.” Xiumiao gulps tapioca, totally unconcerned. “And anyway, I’ve been thinking . . . as far as she’s concerned . . .”
I put my phone down, because whenever Xiumiao stops using Melissa’s name it means we’re entering the secret romance zone, where Melissa is not our best friend that we speak to and about normally, but instead the object of Xiumiao’s long and painful crush on a straight girl.
“Yeah?”
Xiumiao loses some of her nonchalance, stabbing her straw up and down in her cup. “I’ve been thinking that I need to get a little space.”
“Oh? That might be good.” Especially since Melissa’s been dating her current boyfriend for a while now. “You’ve got that vacation coming up, right?”
“That’s, like, a week. I’m talking about actual physical, mental, emotional space. A total disconnect. High school is over, and it’s time to move on.”
“But,” I stammer, surprised by the sharp edge in Xiumiao’s voice. “You’re not going to stop hanging out with us?”
Xiumiao’s face falls, but I can’t figure out why. She hides it quickly with an eye roll. “That’s kind of exactly what I’m trying to say.”
“But . . . she’ll notice.” Xiumiao’s biggest fear in life, after her parents learning anything about her, is Melissa learning about her crush. And it’s probably not cool of me to use that against her, but I feel a tiny bit panicked. We’re about to be forced to get space. Why does she want to speed it along?
Xiumiao shrugs. “I’ll be really busy this summer,” she says. “Shadowing at the hospital, church stuff, camp. And we’re all going to be getting ready for college anyway.”
If by “getting ready for college” she means “desperately clinging to friends who are basically family before circumstances beyond our control separate us,” then yes, totally, we’re on the same page here.
But we’re not. Is she really ready to just move on?
“So am I supposed to lie about hanging out with you, or what?”
Xiumiao frowns and opens her mouth like she’s going to respond, but instead she just sips her tea. The silence stretches a little too long. “Like I said, I’m going to be busy.”
Wow. So maybe it’s not just Melissa who Xiumiao wants to move on from. She goes back to her phone while angry New Yorkers sing about capitalism. Usually comfortable silence is our jam, but right now it feels ominous.
I suck up the last of my tea, leaving a lonely pile of gloopy tapioca. My summer plan was to spend all my time at Xiumiao’s and Melissa’s houses, avoiding Connie to avoid fighting. Is Melissa thinking the same thing Xiumiao is? Does everyone expect us to stop being friends now that high school is over?
While I pick at the hem of my borrowed T-shirt and watch a found family grow closer through adversity on-screen, my phone buzzes. Melissa is tagging me in photos of empty graduation seats with sad-face emojis. Where are my friends? the caption reads.
I text her, My family is the worst, so Xiumiao and I ditched. Have fun.
Ugh, sorry, tell me about it later? And thanks, it’s actually really boring, Melissa responds.
I smile, about to tell Xiumiao that she was right. But maybe she doesn’t want to hear anything about Melissa, or graduation.
Anyway, happy official start of summer! Melissa texts. You’re definitely coming to quidditch practice with me and Chris this week, right?
I text back ellipses, which seems nicer than “I thought you were joking about that” or “Seriously?”
Melissa’s boyfriend Chris plays quidditch. Yeah, that quidditch. Melissa really wants to check out the real-life version of the Harry Potter game, but she’s already in marching band, so joining a nerdy outdoor activity isn’t as much of a stretch for her. It’s been a long time since I’ve willingly participated in any team sports.
You have to! Melissa texts. Quickly followed by, It’s our bonding activity for the summer! She sends an assortment of sports-ball emojis, plus a wizard in a pointy hat, making my phone ding with each text. I snort.
“What?” Xiumiao leans to see my screen, probably expecting a meme.
I tilt the screen. “Nothing,” I say. “It’s just from . . . Nothing.”
Xiumiao nods. “Thanks,” she says. “You can tell Nothing to enjoy graduation. But, uh, actually don’t say it from me.” Then she turns back to her phone with a determined nod.
She’s really going through with this. The tapioca rolls like marbles in my stomach.
I’m not one hundred percent sure how I feel about going to the park to pretend to cast spells, but I know that I don’t want to disconnect from everything this summer, and Melissa must not want to, either.
Fine. I’ll try it.
It’s not a solution to my fears about life after summer, but at least it’s something to do with my friend.
But, I mean, how are we supposed to fly?
* * *
• • •
When the movie ends, Connie starts texting. Her texts come rapid-fire, always too impatient to wait for a response.
Where are you? she asks first. Your father wants to have a celebration dinner. This perks me up momentarily, until the next ding: We need to clean and decorate the kitchen. And finally, The ceremony should be over by now.
I tell her that I went to Xiumiao’s.
Well, you should head back soon. Ding. I can pick you up on my way back from the mall. Ding. You don’t want to overstay your welcome.
I pause the credits. “I have to go. Connie.”
“Boo.” Xiumiao nods. “Good luck. See you . . . whenever.”
I change out of the borrowed clothes and drop them in Xiumiao’s lap as Connie texts me that she’s pulling up.
“Uh, bye,” I say. It feels wrong—we usually have a relationship that supersedes small talk and greetings in favor of just walking in and out and ignoring each other—but the way she hesitated, I’m not sure if Xiumiao intends this to be the last time we ever hang out or what. “Have a good vacation, I guess.” Have a good summer? Have a good life?