THE WEEK PASSED quickly. I went out with Orion that weekend to watch the movie, but nothing happened. We had lunch together, briefly discussed it (he knew I was an avid DC fan, though he seemed far less enthusiastic about it than I was) and went our separate ways after arriving back at our apartment. As expected, as planned. But I still couldn't help the little tug of disappointment every time he turned and left me by myself.

  But the start of a new week meant the starting of school. Monday was new student orientation, and Camille and I were separated due to different department and subjects. I was introduced to my tutor and brought around the campus buildings, and briefly introduced to a few other students in my year group.

  Everyone seemed fairly nice. I met a mainland girl who I got along with fairly well, and we both exchanged numbers. Her name was Eileen. She'd chosen it, she told me, after Eileen Gu.

  "My idol," she grinned, flicking her dyed purple hair to the side. "I love her so much."

  That got a laugh out of me. She was another Politics and International Relations major, much like me, and a glance at our schedules showed that we had plenty of classes together. That was nice, having a friend there.

  There was another boy, Ben Sinclair, who I knew and was studying my major too. He'd been a schoolmate of mine back at Arrington, though we had never been very close. We had lots of classes together, though, so I was fairly familiar with him. But we said hi, and we sat together with a few other new kids at the cafeteria when it was time for lunch.

  I was more or less familiar with the area by the end of the day. I'd travelled up to Redchester during my last term at Arrington to scout out the area, so I already knew where most of the buildings were. The tour was thorough, though, and still appreciated despite all that.

  Camille and I met up together after orientation ended, returning to my apartment. Lessons didn't start until tomorrow. My first lecture wasn't until ten the next morning, and Camille's wasn't until the afternoon.

  "I met some new kids," Camille told me, head tilted. "And some of the kids are hot."

  "I saw Ben Sinclair. Met some new kids too. There's this mainland girl, Eileen, who's pretty cool."

  "No old schoolmates in my major," she grinned. Camille was a Maths major, being the absolutely perfect Asian she was. "Everyone seems nice."

  "That's good, isn't it?"

  "Yeah," Camille agreed. "No one interesting, though."

  "You're doing Maths," I pointed out. "That's not a major to find interesting people."

  "Fair enough, I suppose."

  We fell into a comfortable silence. Camille got on her laptop, humming a soft tune as she typed away. I turned into the kitchen, glancing at the fridge to prepare the evening's meal. Of course, Camille planned on eating at mine today. She didn't even have to tell me for me to know.

  I connected my phone to the speaker I had on the kitchen counter, and a moment later, our favourite songs were blasting into the room. Camille and I had similar music tastes. A healthy dose of western pop, a few Chinese songs sprinkled in here and there, and a mix of Kpop songs. Though my Kpop taste was limited to girl groups, Camille's was reached further.

  For a moment it felt like Arrington College again. Weekends in the common room, with Camille on her phone laying on the couch, me working around in the kitchen trying my best not to set off the fire alarm. And things weren't all that different, were they? A change in environment, a little bit older, but at the core of it everything was still the same.

  Camille's phone suddenly rang, and my gaze shot to her. "Parents," she grumbled.

  I blinked. "It's like... midnight in Hong Kong."

  "They're on vacation," Camille explained. "Wait, turn off the music." I did, and she accepted the call.

  "Tsang Yu-ning! Do you care about your poor parents or not?" a feminine voice cried out in Cantonese. I stifled a burst of laughter and Camille shot me a glare. The voice seemed to calm down, and I could practically envision Camille's mother squinting on the other side of the screen. "Wait, where are you? This isn't your dorm. I hope you're not already going to some boy's—"

  My jaw dropped, and Camille quickly cut off her mother. "Ma! I'm at Salome's!"

  "Oh." A pause. "Say hello to Salome for me."

  I strolled over, extending my neck so that I was on the screen. "Hi Auntie!"

"Hello Salome." I was fairly familiar with Camille's parents. Having been friends for so long, we'd been to each other's apartments more times than we could count. "Enjoying university?"

  "Orientation was pretty fun," I told them. "You guys have fun talking to Camille! I'm preparing dinner."

  That began another barrage of chidings. "Camille! You should go help! Not let Salome cook all of it by yourself! I cannot believe you still cannot cook, so useless!"

  "Mum!" Camille sounded genuinely annoyed now. I shot her a concerned look and she shook her head. I gave a little nod and returned to the kitchen, where I could still hear her voice. "Ma, I cannot help her if you're calling me right now."

  That logic seemed to stump her mother for a moment. "Oh, do not make excuses!"

  Listening to my friends talking to their parents always made me slightly uncomfortable. Especially when it came to Camille's Mum. She'd caused Camille plenty of brief back in our years of school, always expecting the worst of her. It was like in their eyes, Camille could never do anything good.

  It was, well, fairly common Asian parenting. But there were always times when it went too far, and Camille's case was constantly on the edge.

  But it wasn't my place to say anything. I couldn't help Camille. I could provide her some emotional support, comfort her when she wanted to cry, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't interfere—it wasn't my family, and it would reflect badly on me and my parents.

  It was common Chinese courtesy that what happened in a family stayed in the family. It was an excuse that was used to explain many horrible things—domestic abuse, child abuse, the never-ending sexism in some old-fashioned families. I knew it was wrong. But when you lived in a society like that, what could you do about it?

  I wasn't brave enough to stand up. Only a few people were.

  They were still talking, but I zoned it out. It felt like I was encroaching on her privacy. If Camille wanted to talk to me about it, she would afterwards. If she didn't, I would never mention it again.

  There'd been many times back at Arrington when us girls would show up at each other's dorms at random times of the day, eyes red and puffy from crying without a single explanation. Most of the time it hadn't been boys.

  My phone buzzed and I took a quick glance. It was a text from Orion. He'd been texting me quite often in the past while, as if we were old friends—and well, we were. But it still felt strange. Being his friend now, when before I'd always firmly placed myself in the spot of the neighbourhood little sister. But he said we were friends, and that had to mean something, right?

  (I really should just move on. Stop thinking about him. Forget about it all. But after eighteen years of living rationally, always listening to my brain rather than my heart in matters of feelings and romance, I wanted to let go for once in my life.)

  How was orientation?

  I picked up my phone, typing a quick response. Pretty good! Camille's at mine rn, she's staying for dinner.

  He sent back a thumbs-up emoji. Good luck with uni! If you ever need anything just give me a knock on the door.

  To that, I replied with an okay emoji before placing down my phone, turning back to the vegetables I'd laid out. I'd gotten some Chinese leaf, and I knew that was both Camille and my favourite.

  I wasn't in the mood to cook too much tonight. Three dishes. I'd already made some red braised pork the night before, and I'd left enough for two or three more meals. But knowing me and Camille, we'd be able to finish it all up tonight, so I took it out of the fridge. The Chinese leaf could go into that.

  I still had a mackerel left from a few days ago, and I opted to steam that. And some broccoli with oyster sauce. Along with two bowls of seaweed soup, which only required me to add water to the dried soup packs.

  Simple enough.

  Camille's call seemed to have ended. I didn't hear anything from the living room, so I assumed she was alright. No sniffling, no nothing, but I took a glance out just in case. She looked fine, albeit glummer than before, swiping away on her phone.

  I didn't say anything. No point pulling at scabs.

  Quietly, I turned the music back on. Camille glanced up and met my eye when it started playing, and I offered her a little grin. She nodded, turning back down to her phone.

  I plopped in my rice cooker the rice I'd already washed and soaked, pressing the button to hear the familiar little melody. "We can eat in an hour!" I called out, walking back into the living room to sit down besides her. "I am so tired."

  "I can help if you want," Camille said. And suddenly I was reminded of her conversation with her mother, but I shook my head.

  "What kind of friend would I be if I needed your help with that? It's a treat, Camille, take it."

  She pouted. "Fine."

  I picked up my own phone, scrolling through my social media. I was feeling rather tired, and Camille, who was usually the more social of us two, was feeling rather down. Thus, neither of us made a move to start another conversation.

  Instead, we enjoyed each other's company in relative silence. It was us at our most natural. Did most good friendships dissolve into this at the end? Even when you hung out, both of you on your phone, giggling and sharing if you found something particularly interesting, but otherwise simply enjoying each other's presence?

  Some people thought it was a pity. That everyone seemed to focus on their own things instead of spending that entire time chatting with each other. But I much preferred this.

—

  LESSONS AND LECTURES started the next day. It was a flurry of excitement as I attended my first lecture, selecting a seat near the middle row.

  I'd selected it because no one was sitting on either side, but shortly after I'd settled down, an Asian boy who I'd noticed sitting behind me suddenly slid into the seat beside me, grinning from ear to ear.

  I glanced at him and was about to turn back to my laptop when he started, "Hello."

  Seemed impolite for me to ignore him. So I replied, "Hello."

  "I saw you yesterday at Orientation but didn't have time to say hello," he laughed. His hair was dyed blonde, dark at the roots, his skin pale. Fairly handsome. Not Chinese, definitely not. I'd guess he was Korean. He gave the vibe. "Us Asians have to stick together. I'm Jeremiah Park."

  Korean. As I'd guessed.

  "Salome Lam," I replied. "Nice to meet you."

  "Salome... pretty name for a pretty girl."

  That, was more likely why he'd slid into that seat besides me. Not because of some Asians sticking together bullshit—he was Korean anyways, and I'd noticed at least two or three other Korean-looking kids around the room. No, Jeremiah Park was sitting next to me because he was either a shameless flirt, or found me attractive.

  Most likely a combination of both.

  I'd always been considered fairly beautiful. I knew that. It was difficult not to know you were conventionally attractive when you grew up being told it by every stranger or adult you met. Kids were less likely to say that kind of stuff—appearances mattered less when you were younger.

  And I'd cleaned up nicely today. A clean face of makeup (nothing more than my usual mascara, blush and lip gloss along with some concealer for my eyebags), wearing a short-sleeved beige cardigan, low-waist jeans that showed some waist, my dark hair pulled up by a claw clip in a high ponytail. It wasn't necessarily surprising that someone would become interested, especially since it was the first day.

  "Oh really?" I asked, one brow raised. I wasn't against some casual flirting. It could be fun, and I wasn't against the idea of, well, falling for anyone else either. I'd tried, throughout the years. It was just... difficult. I'd think I'd develop a small crush on someone, and then I'd be reminded of Orion and I'd start comparing them to each other and somehow Orion won. Every single time.

  "From the opera, eh?"

  "I doubt my parents thought that far when they named me. They probably just thought it sounded nice."

  "It does." A brilliant smile. "You Chinese?"

  "Yeah," I told him. "I'm from Hong Kong." I eyed the professor at the front of the classroom on the lecture stage, but he didn't seem to be starting any time soon yet. "You're Korean, then?"

  "Yup," he replied, grinning. "How you enjoying the British experience so far?"

  "I've been studying here for a couple of years, so I'm used to it. Redchester has been fine so far."

  "Ah, you're one of those boarding school kids. I studied at an international school back in Korea."

  "How nice."

  He was about to say something, scratching his neck, when the professor abruptly started speaking. I felt him take a glance at me and then turn back to the front of the classroom. I gradually phased him out as the lecture began, busying myself with notes.

  It wasn't really a sign of anything. I'd had casual flirtations. I'd dated someone before. But it never meant anything in the end.

  But maybe this could be the start of something new.

  Maybe. Just maybe.

  Jeremiah asked for my social media at the end of the lecture. I gave it without much thought—no matter what became of this, whether we actually end up having anything more, became friends or just stayed classmates, it seemed a fairly normal thing to do. Nothing to really think too deep about, I thought.

  I had time for lunch between that and my next lecture, so I stopped by the school cafeteria. The food... hadn't particularly impressed me so far, but I hadn't had time to pack lunch for myself, and I didn't have time to go back home to make anything. So I made do with the shitty cafeteria food. I was going to sit alone, since Jeremiah had gone with some of his friends to do whatever, but it turned out he'd ended up at the same cafeteria too.

  So instead, I had lunch with Jeremiah and a few of his friends.

  They were all Koreans, which was slightly awkward, but Jeremiah professed that since they were international school kids (all old classmates, he'd informed me), most of them didn't speak Korean particularly well.

  One of his friends, a pretty girl with eyes that sparkled, asked me if I had any old school friends here too. I told her about Camille and Ben Sinclair. I thought about mentioning Orion, but I swallowed the words back before they left my mouth.

  Wouldn't it be nice, to have a part of my life that Orion had nothing to do with? Where no one knew who Orion Ip was?

  So I held it back.

  "British weather isn't as bad as I think so far," the aforementioned girl, who told me her name was Danielle Kim, frowned. "I thought it would be raining every day."

  I winced. "Yeah, wait til around January. It might be nice now, but it won't be in a couple months."

  "Trust Salome," Jeremiah teased. "She's been here longer than all of us."

  I shrugged. "It's not that difficult to adjust to. But the rain and stuff does tend to get very common and painful around November to January. And, well, the weather is generally nicer around the coast, and that's where I used to live, so I'm not completely sure about Redchester weather either."

  "We should ask someone," Danielle huffed. "I need to be ready."

  "Just bring an umbrella with you all the time," I suggested. "It won't do much if it's like, a lot of rain—the wind will basically make sure you're completely soaked anyways, but it does help a little bit, you know?"

  "I'll keep that in mind," Daniella hummed, nodding. "Pack up some umbrellas."

  "Make sure it's a strong umbrella," I added. "Or it'll be broken by the wind in no time."

  Jeremiah blinked. "Is it that strong? The wind?"

  "The wind is nothing compared to the rain," I told him. "It's why, really, the best choice is a waterproof coat. Invest in one sooner or later, I think, especially when it gets to the winter. Just a word of advice."

  The other boy with them, Nam Mun-hee, tilted his head. He'd been mostly quiet this conversation, choosing to spectate instead. "Which dorm do you live in, Salome?"

  I shook my head. "I rented an apartment nearby. I don't live in the dorms."

  "Damn," Jeremiah sighed. "I wish I could do that. I really don't like needing to share my room with someone else."

  Danielle shrugged. "I don't really mind. My roommate is great so far, though she can be a little loud. But I'm even louder than her, so..."

  "Pot meets kettle," Mun-hee snorted. "You are the last person who can call anyone loud, Danielle."

  Danielle pulled a face at him in return.

  My phone buzzed in my hand and I glanced down. It was from Camille, naturally, asking me where I was having lunch. I quickly sent a reply, and she told me that she wasn't going to bother coming over.

  What are you going to eat?? I sent her.

  Her reply came, I'm going to become fully British and get a sandwich from Co-op.

  Omg, Camille no.

  Camille yes.

  I must have been grinning, because Jeremiah suddenly asked, looking a little disappointed, "Who's that? Boyfriend?"

  I glanced up from my phone, blinking. He was sitting right across from me, Mun-hee besides him, with Danielle at my left. The other two seemed to be preoccupied with their own little argument. I shook my head. "No, my best friend."

  "Huh." A little smile returned to his face. He had dimples, I realised with a start. That was pretty cool. "No boyfriend?"

  And we were back to that. I raised one brow. "Nope."

  "Hmm." He sounded pensive. I decided not to entertain him in that area. I didn't know him well enough for any more flirtation—he might take it as some kind of promise. I didn't want to risk it, at least not until I knew him better. Or until I was sure I could actually provide something.

  I didn't want what happened with Frances to happen again.

  I just couldn't.