Lies We Tell ✔

The Fortieth Dance

Next thing I knew, it was the morning of Dancerush. The day my idea would be brought to life.

I dressed while trying to ignore the fact that my roommate's bed was still empty. Never thought I would've been so desperate to have awoken to the sound of Olivia banging pots and pans in my ear.

As I trudged my way to the bathroom, zombie-like, I passed Elise, who was coming out of the girl's bathroom. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her pupils looked deadened. Apparently we'd gotten about the same amount of sleep last night—none.

She stopped me mid-step with a single utterance. "Amelia."

As if on cue, Patrick came out of his room, still wearing the black jeans and Gay Pride T-shirt he'd been sporting the night before. They stood together and exchanged a look. Then, in unison, they faced me, with a world of pain contained in their faces.

And I knew. I knew even before the words came out of their mouths what they wanted to say. Saw it in the barely suppressed tears in each of their eyes.

It's strange. I came into college thinking there was no chance I'd ever get along with my roommate. That she would be weird, impossible to integrate into American society, and I'd forget all about her after the year was up.

And somehow, Mingmei Xu had become one of the most beloved freshman student of us all.

After Elise and Patrick took turns hugging my frozen, disbelieving self, asking if I needed anything, if there was anything they could do at all. I told them no. Not unless they could bring my roommate back.

In a state of numb shock, I slowly made my way back to my room and texted Chris.

Me: Hey. Whenever ur up, can u stop by my room? I need someone to talk to.

He showed up with a knock on my door not even two minutes later. Still dressed in a pair of light blue pajamas, looking adorably disheveled.

"That was quick," I said.

"I was awake anyway." Chris shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. What's up?"

"It's...Olivia."

At my words and the expression on my face, I knew at once that Chris knew, and needed no further explanation. Good. I didn't trust myself to speak anymore. He simply opened his arms, and I fell into them. And then came the tears.

For ten, thirty, maybe even sixty minutes, Chris held me as the sobs wracked my body. Memories flooded my mind. Happy, sad, insignificant, important. The strange things Olivia would say, her innocent outlook on life. The joy on her face when she'd made nian gao in our lounge for everybody. The pride I'd felt when she'd single-handedly diffused a fight in the dining hall.

Chris and I filled the empty space Olivia had once occupied with words, so we could distract ourselves from the intense ache crushing down on our chests, making it hard to even breathe.

"Olivia didn't deserve it. Any of it," I managed to choke when the tears wouldn't fall anymore, when my throat felt raw and raspy from the sobbing.

"I know."

"Sh-she deserved a top-notch education. All she wanted was to m-make it in America, dammit. L-live the American d-dream."

"American dream? More like American nightmare," Chris spat, his voice rough with frustration. His body trembled with barely suppressed rage. "Everyone always talks about making it here, like it's some huge lifetime accomplishment. But as far as I can tell, trying to live the American dream has only brought my family and other immigrants misery."

And death. If Olivia hadn't been chasing after some huge, invisible dream, a dream that probably had never even existed in the first place, she'd be living safe and sound back in Shenzhen. Tears blurred my vision once more, and I could do nothing but let myself sob. Scream and cry and wail in pure, unfiltered rage.

Rage for Olivia. Rage for everyone else who'd been affected by the hate crimes. Rage for America.

"So what now?" Chris asked when I finally pulled back from him, leaving a giant wet spot on the front of his pajamas. His eyes were rimmed with red. Cheeks stained with tear tracks. Eyes desperate and sad, searching mine. "What do we do next?"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. The truth was, I didn't know. I had absolutely no clue what to do next. All I knew was I had to do my best to convince my parents to keep letting me attend college, despite my cousin's death. This would become near impossible once word got out about what had happened.

"I don't think I can go to Dancerush anymore," I whispered.

"Look at me, Amelia." When I kept my eyes fixed to the ground, Chris pressed his index and middle finger under my chin and tilted my head upward to meet his gaze. His eyes were still red, but a different, fiercer shade of red. A determined red. "You need to go to Dancerush. Do you understand me?'

"Chris, I—I can't. There's no way I can dance out there knowing—knowing—"

"You have to. I know it's hard." He swallowed, more tears welling up in his eyes, spilling over onto his cheeks, dripping down the end of his nose. He didn't brush them away. "But you can't let the hatred in this world stop you from doing what you love. Passion is everything," Chris said fiercely, echoing my words to him from what felt like a millennia ago. "Who taught me that?"

"But Olivia...she's..."

Chris grabbed hold of my hands and pulled me in for another, tighter hug. "I know. And that's exactly why Dancerush needs to go on. You have to keep dancing. Keep living. For yourself, and for Olivia. For the America she believed in."

I took a deep, shuddering breath. In my heart, I knew Chris was right. As much as I wanted to curl into a ball on my bed and cry until there were no more tears to shed, this wasn't the time to feel defeated.

This was the time to fight back.

*****

A/N - *cue storm of comments* DON'T HATE ME OKKKK. I did what had to be done. </3

As always, please comment/vote to show your support for this story. I will update soon! Also, this is like a super depressing chapter to announce good news in, but I officially accepted my offer of representation with Penny Moore of Empire Literary. My books are one giant step closer to being published by big, traditional houses. WISH ME LUCK AS I ENTER REVISIONS, AND, EVENTUALLY, SUBMISSIONS TO MY DREAM PUBLISHERS!!!

Thank you for always supporting in me and believing in my writing. I would not be here without all of you and am eternally grateful for your belief in my work. <333