Come to think of it, I’m not entirely sure Frank hasn’t run away from me too.
“Then you accidentally backed your car through your own house?” Ruby asks, looking incredulous. “At your own party?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Not my best moment.”
She starts laughing, and as I think about it, it seems pretty hilarious and ridiculous too. Who wouldn’t notice accidentally turning the car engine on? Only a flower-heart like me. Iris Weijun Wang, who is reckless and impulsive and formerly cursed. I’m lucky that no one was hurt. That I didn’t give myself permanent brain damage or kill myself while being in the driver’s seat, drunk and stoned.
I laugh but inwardly, I grimace from embarrassment and shame.
How do I even recover from the regret that is never going to leave me? It’s not just a feeling that can be cleansed away with a deep pore facial or zapped away with multiple laser treatments. It feels more than a superficial film on my skin. It’s a recurring blackhead, that creepy dude who follows you around the mall and won’t take no for an answer.
The horrible remorse I feel for all the things I’ve done and did not do feels a lot like cystic acne on my insides. Shuddering, I can only imagine the damage done because I used to be a shakier earthquake of myself.
While we enjoy our pampering, Ruby’s phone buzzes nonstop with TanTan messages. I try to read them, but they’re all in Chinese. Her active phone reminds me of my silent one. Speaking of Frank, I wonder if he’s okay?
When everyone is relaxed and chatting and drinking icy cucumber water, I sneak to the bathroom and text Frank. I have not received a single text from him even though we’re supposed to have a tutoring session tomorrow. Did Uncle Dai already phone him? Did he threaten him and tell him to stay away from me forever? I need Frank to know that I’m going to fix everything. I send him a WeChat message. What are you up to? Everything okay?
No response.
I send him another message. Please text me ASAP. Things have been chaotic here.
I email him two times.
No answer.
We haven’t been in contact since we arrived back in Beijing from the hot springs. It has practically been nine whole hours since we last spoke or touched each other. After we had an enthusiastic and fantastically long makeout session in the cab before dropping him off at his dorm at Tsinghua University. Frank promised solemnly that he would call me as soon as he got home. I expected at least one PG-13 if not R-rated text. We had solid romantic plans: a Chinese cinema movie, a Western-style pasta dinner, and lychee-ice dessert next weekend. He was going to take me market shopping for more jade jewelry. He promised that he knew all the vendors who sold the best, most expensive stones. We were also going to hang with his cool artist friends again.
It all seemed too perfect.
I told Frank that Uncle Dai could easily find me a new tutor or we could just continue to have fun together during our tutoring sessions, but he seemed absolutely horrified by the idea. He said that he would come up with an idea of what to tell Uncle Dai. Come to think of it, he turned toothpaste-green when I mentioned it, and looked a bit queasy.
Is he still working out a plan on how to tell my uncle? Is that why he’s avoiding my texts and emails?
Sighing deeply, I turn on the faucets and keep the shower running so no one will hear me when I call him. But all I get is Frank’s infuriatingly polite voice mail; no one is picking up.
Anxiously, I leave a voice message.
“Hey, it’s me, Iris. I’m in trouble for leaving and spending the weekend with you. My cousin saw our hot spring photos. My uncle is super angry and he doesn’t want you to see me anymore. Call me back when you get this.”
I leave another voice mail. “Are you okay?”
After six additional texts and three more voice mails, I join the rest of the nail party and try to enjoy a hot stone massage. But I can’t relax as the masseuse tries to work out the knots in my neck and back. It’s like I’ve turned into a piece of furniture.
Although I am warm, well-fed, and surrounded by people who love me, I can’t help but think that something horrible is going to happen.
I close my eyes and think of my red fortune-teller claws, and it only helps me relax a little.
Before bed, I check my phone again and there are zero texts, emails, or missed calls from Frank. What if he was hit by a car? Is he having a personal emergency? Maybe he’s holed up studying somewhere?
Isn’t he concerned that he’s going to miss our tutoring session tomorrow?
Polite, overly serious, studious guys like my dad don’t just ghost you after you sleep with them, right?
Jumping out of bed, I begin pacing in the humongous bathroom, careful not to wake Ruby in our shared hotel bedroom. As I tiptoe back and forth, my jade iris necklace from Frank gets tangled in my long, messy hair, so I quickly unclasp it. But in my hurry, it flies from my fingers, bounces off the marble floor, and shatters completely.
“Shit!” I exclaim loudly.
How could I break his beautiful gift of jade so soon? What would Frank think? Would he accuse me of being careless and spoiled? If the iris pendant was a test, I need to find superglue ASAP.
My stomach flips with burning anxiety.
Have I lost my chance to date a proper CPA boy???
Before I go into panic must-fix-it mode, I get an inkling that something is not right. If I try to use my brain to think about the issue at hand, my panic eventually softens. Think, Iris, think, I tell myself. Wait, does jade, which is practically a cousin to the rock, actually break if you drop it?
My mom once said that authentic jade stones last forever, which is why Chinese families always give them as gifts to loved ones at weddings and for when babies are born. According to my mom, jade stones are even inherited and passed down through multiple generations like ultra-coveted real estate.
People who give you expensive jade jewelry are saying that they cherish you indefinitely.
Confused, I examine the tiny green shards as I slowly clean up the mess in the bathroom. Did Frank know that he gave me a dud? But wouldn’t Frank, who grew up in Beijing, know the real difference between cheap glass and real jade? Did he just make an honest mistake? He wouldn’t be bullshitting me, would he?
Or was my mom somehow wrong about the enduring meaning of jade?
My brain hurts from overthinking.
My insides somersault again, as if I’ve ingested a gallon of chocolate milk in one sitting. I feel bloated with gassy and indigestible confusion. Frank wouldn’t lie to me, right? He meant what he said about spending the summer together. The jade present and apology were supposed to show that he really, really liked me. I didn’t expect eternity, but I was hoping to post In a relationship for two months on social media.
But then why does it feel a lot like I’m picking up broken beer glass the morning after one of my super-fun parties in Bradley Gardens, New Jersey?
WECHAT GROUP (#1WangFamily!!!)
Mom: Uncle Dai says you are pregnant! Your aunt sent us a photo of you in a magazine.
IrisDaddy: Is this true?????
Mom: We need to talk ASAP!
IrisDaddy: Also, American Express called and said you forgot to pay. I checked and someone has been using your credit card. They spent approx $7,000!! They even bought round-trip tickets to Paris. I’ll talk to the company later. Be careful of fraud!
IrisDaddy: How much yuan do you have left?