I checked behind me as a reflex and banged my face against the door in the process.
"Genie," Mom said, beaming like we'd won the lottery. "You have a visitor. A friend from school."
I pointed at Quentin while holding my nose. "How did you get inside?"
He looked puzzled. "I knocked on the door and introduced myself to your mother? We've been chatting for a while now."
I had taken the shortest route home and hadn't seen him pass me. Given that I was a decent runner, he must have sprinted here like a bat out of hell. How was he not winded in the slightest?
"Quentin is so nice," Mom said. "He explained how you rescued him this morning. He came over to say thank-you in person." She pointed to a fancy-wrapped box of chocolates on the kitchen counter.
"I had to ask around for your address," Quentin said. "In case you were wondering."
I rubbed my eyes. I felt like I was going crazy. But I could figure out his little magic trick later, once he was gone.
"I don't know how you got here before me," I said to Quentin. "But get the hell out."
"Pei-Yi! Rude!" Mom snapped.
Quentin made eye contact with me. Maybe he thought I'd stay quiet in front of my mother for the sake of decorum. That a boy's good name was more important than a girl's safety. If so, he was dead effin' wrong.
"Mother," I said slowly. "While this person seems like a nice young man on the surface, he threatened me during class this morning. He's not my friend."
My mother looked at him.
"I'm so sorry!" Quentin cried out, his face stricken. He shot to his feet and lowered his head. "I came here to apologize. And to explain my horrendous behavior."
"I'd love an explanation," I said. "Starting with what happened in the park."
"That was a misunderstanding that got out of hand," he said. "Those men weren't even bad people, just ordinary folk I tried to make conversation with. But I accidentally insulted them to such a degree that they sought to teach me a lesson. I can barely even blame them."
I frowned. At the time, the beating had seemed a bit extreme for a misunderstanding. But then again, I hadn't turned the other cheek in class myself. I guess he had a knack for pissing people off to the point of violence.
"After they left I picked up your bag, cleaned myself off, and brought it to school," Quentin said. "I knew you went to the same one as me because I recognized your uniform."
"It was just a fortunate coincidence I was assigned to your class on my first day," he went on. "I was so happy when I saw the person who saved my life this morning that I lost my head and made the same error all over again. My English is from a book, and I still don't know how things really work in America."
Mom sniffled like she was watching a soap finale.
"I'm sorry to have spoken to you so personally," Quentin said, his voice cracking.
I bit the inside of my cheek. I wasn't inclined to believe any of his BS, but he said it in such a heartfelt way that I was actually considering giving him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was just a really, really awkward transplant with no sense of personal space.
That's when the bastard winked at me.
Fine. Two could play at this game.
"You know what would be great?" I said, putting on a coy expression. "If we could have you and your parents over for dinner. Let us welcome you to the States."
Quentin raised a black, regal eyebrow.
Got you, jerk. Let's see if you can handle me blowing your creepstory to the real authorities. If I let his parents know about his behavior, there'd be no way he'd get off scot-free.
"Oh, how lovely," Mom said, clapping her hands. "That's a wonderful idea."
"Uh ... okay," said Quentin, looking unsure of himself for the first time ever. "They would also want to give their thanks ... I guess."
"But for now you must be going," I said. "You promised the chess club you'd go out with them to try your first real American hamburger."
"Yes!" he said. "I am most interested in this thing that you're talking about."
As Quentin laced his shoes up in the hallway, Mom pulled me aside.
"Be nice to him," she said. "Not so harsh, like you always are."
Ugh. My mom is of the generation that believes the male can do no wrong.
"I should be nice like you were?" I said. "You took his side over your own daughter's pretty quickly. Did he tell you exactly what he did at school?"
She looked up at me sadly. "It's hard, coming to this country," she said. "You were born here; you never had to experience that. Of course he's going to make some mistakes."
Then her eyes gleamed. "Plus he's so handsome. And rich, too, probably. Like a prince. I can tell these things."
Ugggghhhhhh.
I showed Quentin out, mostly because I wanted to make sure he walked the hell away and didn't sneak into our bushes or something. Once I'd closed the door behind us, I stared him down.
"You picked the wrong girl to bully, asshat."
"I said I was sorry!"
"No, you lied about being sorry to my mother! There's a difference!"
"What, do you want me to grovel in front of your dad, too? Where is he? Still at work?"
At the mention of my father my teeth clenched so hard they almost turned to shrapnel.
"You don't have the right to talk to any of my family!" I said. "You have no right to anything of mine!"
"I don't understand why you're so upset!"
I poked him hard in his chest. It was like tapping granite.
"That doesn't matter," I hissed. "You are not entitled to my thoughts, emotions, or any other part of my life unless I say so. What you get from me is jack and squat, regardless of whether or not you understand. Ming bai le ma, dickhead?"
Quentin opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out. He stood there, failing to turn over, like a car with a faulty ignition. I could read his face as plain as day. He just couldn't believe that I, an actual human being, was talking to him like this.
Finally he just scowled and stomped away.
I watched him go. I waited till he was out of sight.
The tension in my body left with him. I nearly toppled over with relief. He'd been banished, out of sight and out of mind. Hopefully for all time.
Then I remembered he was in my homeroom, where I'd see him every day.
