FRANCESCA'S POV.
It had been three weeks since that stupid, humiliating day in the mall.
Three weeks in China, and I was still learning how to say "good morning" without twisting my tongue.
I never imagined I'd get used to the smell of Beijing… that mix of roasted chestnuts, exhaust fumes, and something spicy that lingered in the air like a memory. My mom kept saying it was a new start, but sometimes it didn't feel like one. Sometimes, it just felt like I'd been dropped into another planet and told to figure out how to breathe.
Classes at the international college were overwhelming at first. Everyone seemed so fluent… in Chinese, in confidence, in everything. But I was trying. My accent was a disaster, my Chinese app kept mocking me, and I'd once told a fruit vendor that I wanted to buy his son instead of buying apples.
Still… I was getting there.
And honestly, I wouldn't have survived without Meilin.
Meilin was my roommate… short, bright-eyed, with the loudest laugh in the dorm. She talked like she was born with a microphone attached to her throat. Half the time, I just nodded and smiled because she never really paused long enough for me to respond.
She barged into my life like she'd been waiting for me forever. The first night, she'd hugged me after hearing my accent and said, "Ah! You're from America? Beautiful! I've always wanted skin like yours…so smooth and strong!" Then she'd asked me what shampoo I used before I'd even unpacked my toothbrush.
Now, she was my anchor. The girl who made me eat hotpot, who taught me to swear in Mandarin, and who never stopped talking about boys, makeup, and concerts.
Especially concerts.
That evening, our room was chaos.
Clothes everywhere. Makeup scattered across the small wooden desk. The air smelled like hairspray and Meilin's floral perfume. She was standing by the mirror, curling her hair and humming loudly to some pop song blasting from her phone.
"Cesca, we are going to be late!" she said, stretching the word like it was my fault.
"For something I didn't even agree to go to?" I muttered, trying to detangle my hair with my fingers.
Meilin gasped dramatically. "You did agree! You said, and I quote, 'Fine, whatever, I'll go if it makes you stop talking.' That counts as consent!"
"I was half asleep, Meilin."
"Still counts!"
I groaned, pulling my hoodie tighter. "Remind me again why we're going to this concert?"
She spun toward me, eyes sparkling like she'd been waiting for that question all day. "Because it's Li Wei!" she said, clasping her hands under her chin like she was in love. "He's the rising star of China right now! His new song just hit a million streams in twenty-four hours!"
I frowned. "A million streams? That's like… normal in America."
"This isn't America!" she said, throwing a pillow at me. "He's young, he's cute, and he has dimples. Dimples, Cesca. Dimples are a religion here!"
I laughed despite myself. "So we're leaving our dorm for dimples?"
"For dimples, voice, style, charm, and fame."
"You're hopeless."
"And you're boring," she countered, hands on her hips. "You've been in this room every day since classes started. You don't go anywhere, you don't talk to boys, you don't even flirt!"
"I'm not here to flirt."
"You're not here to turn into a nun either," she said softly, her voice suddenly less playful. "You came to live, Cesca. Not hide."
Her words sank deeper than I wanted them to.
I looked at her reflection in the mirror… that glowing energy, that easy confidence …and wondered what it would feel like to be so alive all the time.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I was hiding …from people, from language, from something else entirely. From him.
I swallowed hard. I still remembered that man from the mall…. his voice, his stare, the way his hand felt against mine before the orange juice spilled. Ugrrh, why am I thinking that much about an asshole.
"Cesca?" Meilin's voice broke my thoughts. "You spaced out again. What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing," I lied quickly. "Just… my mom."
"Your mom? Aw." Meilin walked over and sat beside me, resting her chin on my shoulder. "You miss her, don't you?"
I nodded. "Every day."
She smiled. "Then let's go have fun tonight. She'd want that for you."
I sighed. "You're using emotional manipulation now?"
"Absolutely," she said proudly. "Now get dressed. You're not wearing that hoodie to a concert."
I looked down at my outfit… jeans and a worn hoodie that said California Dream. "What's wrong with this?"
"It screams freshman misery," Meilin said, standing and rummaging through her closet. "You need something that says I'm new, but I slay."
She tossed a black dress at me. "Try this."
"Too short."
She threw another one… a flowy red top with flared sleeves. "Too bold."
"Ugh, you're impossible," she said, hands on her hips. "Fine, wear what you want, but at least do your hair."
"I'll try."
"Good." She turned back to the mirror, adjusting her eyeliner. "Li Wei's concert is going to be amazing. I heard he's performing his unreleased song. And rumor says he's coming with a secret guest!"
"Let me guess… another dimpled boy?"
"Maybe!"
We both laughed. For the first time in days, I actually felt light.
The room buzzed with energy… the kind that only comes from being young and a little unsure but still daring to exist anyway.
By the time we finished dressing, the dorm looked like a storm had passed through. Meilin was in a sparkly denim skirt and silver boots, while I stuck to black jeans and a soft white blouse. Simple. Me.
"Not bad," she said, tilting her head. "You actually look kind of hot."
"Kind of?"
"Okay, very. But still foreign hot."
I raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She giggled. "Like… you stand out. In a good way. You have that foreign-girl energy. The kind that makes boys nervous."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not trying to make anyone nervous."
"Yeah, sure."
We left the dorm just as the evening sun dipped below the campus buildings. The streets were glowing with red lanterns and shop signs. Students were rushing everywhere… laughing, talking, holding hands.
Meilin kept pulling me along, waving at everyone, explaining random things. "That's the best bubble tea place. That one sells fake Gucci bags. Don't ever buy dumplings from that old man… they'll ruin your stomach for three days."
I couldn't stop smiling. She was ridiculous.
As we crossed the street, she suddenly linked her arm through mine. "Promise me you'll smile tonight, Cesca."
"Ill smile."
"Not the polite one," she said. "The real one."
I hesitated. Then nodded. "Fine. I'll try."
"Good," she said, squeezing my arm. "Because who knows? Maybe tonight you might meet your soulmate."
Her words lingered in the cool night air. I didn't know what she meant, but a part of me… the part that still believed in coincidences… felt a tiny shiver run down my spine.
As we reached the train station, lights flickering above us and music echoing from someone's phone nearby, I realized how strange life could be.
You could run
halfway across the world to start over… and still, something would be waiting for you.
Something you thought you'd left behind.