“I’m—” Pain rushed in to fill the void. Incredible, soul-crushing pain, the kind that forced her to double over it hurt so much. The dam she’d erected to keep her tears at bay collapsed, sending streams of liquid grief down her cheeks.
That was it.
Farrah curled up into a ball on the floor. She hugged her knees to her chest and sobbed—huge, wracking sobs that shook her body but made nary a noise. Her stomach ached. Her sides ached. Her heart ached so much she was sure she was dying.
All the while, her brain tortured her with memories.
“Whatever happens, we can get through it together.”
“I love you.”
“Never forget how much I love you.”
It seemed so real, so sincere. Farrah didn’t just love Blake; she trusted him. She trusted him enough not only to give him her virginity but her heart. Turns out he’d been playing her this entire time.
I am such an idiot.
Farrah buried her face in her knees, struggling to breathe between sobs. Her mouth dried and her eyes burned, but she couldn’t stop. It was too much.
Everything—the pain, the embarrassment, the shock—it was too much.
Janice sat next to her on the floor and, even though the two girls hadn’t spoken more than a dozen words to each other since the year began, she placed her arm around Farrah’s shoulders and stayed with her until Farrah ran out of tears to cry.
Chapter Thirty-Two
1 month later
The day had come. FEA graduation. Their last night in Shanghai.
Blake didn’t shed a tear at his high school graduation, but a lump formed in his throat as Wang laoshi ended his speech and the ceremony segued into the retrospective portion of the evening. The lights dimmed, a giant projector screen slid down the wall, and the opening strains of Emil Chau’s classic song “Peng You (Friends)” filled the auditorium.
Images from the past year flashed across the screen. There were Blake and Luke, sweaty, grinning, and flashing cheesy thumbs-ups after their orientation week scavenger hunt. Then a semi-candid shot of FEA’s first night at 808—Sammy and Olivia dancing together, Farrah sticking her tongue out at the camera, and Courtney on stage, clutching a drink in each hand with her face screwed up in laughter.
The lump in Blake’s throat grew at the joy on Farrah’s face.
His gaze drifted to where she sat two rows down and three seats to his right. Was she laughing? Crying? She sat so still he couldn’t tell.
The slideshow continued. The guys playing basketball. Farrah and Olivia on a beach in Thailand. The group on the Great Wall pre-hike. Courtney and Leo holding scorpions on sticks at the Beijing night market.
There were countless other photos of Blake and his friends in restaurants, taxicabs, rickshaws, bars and clubs; posing in dressing rooms and dorm rooms and VIP rooms; hosting a mock singing competition in the student lounge; on the street with random people whose names they forgot or never knew to begin with.
Blake couldn’t help but laugh when he saw the photo of Farrah passed out on the couch of a karaoke lounge. They’d hiked the Sheshan trail that day, and by the time evening rolled around, they were too tired to go clubbing. They settled for KTV instead. Farrah fell asleep after the second song.
Sammy had ducked his head into the picture frame. He’d had a few drinks, and his face matched the color of his red shirt. Courtney pretended to lick Farrah’s cheek while Olivia grabbed a handful of the sleeping girl’s hair and did an exaggerated sexy pose behind the couch, her lips pursed into a model pout.
Blake’s laugh died when the next picture came up. Blake and Farrah, kissing on a rooftop bar by the Bund, their fingers intertwined by their sides. The skyline glittered behind them, bright and full of promise. He could only see their profiles, but the love radiating from the photo hit him like a punch to the gut.
Blake looked away. The pain had stabilized into a dull ache over the past month, but now the sharp pangs of his heart breaking returned with a vengeance.
Thankfully, the slideshow ended, and Wang laoshi started calling students onstage to receive their ceremonial graduation certificates.
“Congratulations.” Wang laoshi shook Blake’s hand. “Good luck with your future endeavors.”
“Thanks.” He was going to need it.
Between school, the bar, and preparing for life as a father, Blake barely slept these days. He ran on pure adrenaline and fear of what might happen if he slowed down.
So he didn’t.