Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. Josh tightened his grip on my waist and smiled at the neighbor. “We were high school sweethearts. Just got back together. I don’t really have a ‘job‘. I own a gaming company in San Francisco.”

The neighbor’s eyes widened. “A CEO! My, my, very impressive.”

I shook my head at her. “No, we didn’t get back together.”

Josh patted my head. “She’s just playing hard My mom was shaking with rage.

She grabbed both of us and dragged us inside, then poked her head out and hissed at the neighbor, “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll tell everyone about your husband and his salsa dancing partner.‘

The neighbor scoffed. “The nerve!”

My mom slammed the door shut and glared at us. Josh finally seemed to realize something was wrong. He whispered, “The mood is…tense. Your mom seems really angry.”

I rolled my eyes. “What are you doing. here?”

“I couldn’t explain everything in a text,” he said, gently gripping my shoulders. “Melanie and I are nothing. Believe me.” He looked at me pleadingly. “I messed up, Amy. I shouldn’t have used her to make you jealous. Forgive me?”

His eyes softened. “I’ve realized something. Even if you don’t know how to love…it doesn’t matter. I love you enough for both of us. I’ll be good, I promise. I won’t do anything to upset you ever again. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

I stared into his sincere, earnest eyes. My mom stepped between us, blocking my view. “You have the nerve to show your face here?”

I sighed. This was ridiculous. I took my mom’s hand and pulled her aside. “Josh, after we broke up, my mom kept asking about you. I got tired of it, and since I thought I’d never see you again, I told her you dumped me because I wasn’t good enough for you after you got into UCLA. That’s why she hates you.”

I turned to my mom. “I lied. I broke up with him, not the other way around. And we haven’t gotten back together. We just saw each other at the reunion. That’s it.” I added, “And about Dr. Evans…I’m going to see where things go with him.”

After explaining everything, I ignored their stunned expressions, opened the door, and shoved Josh outside. He stumbled, his eyes welling up. “Why?”

My throat tightened. I looked down. “Your mother hates me. You saw those messages. What if she does something crazy again? I can’t handle that, and I don’t want you to hate me too.”

Josh shook his head tearfully. “She won’t. I’ll fix it. I’m flying back to San Francisco tonight to talk to her. Just…wait for me, okay?” He looked at me, tears streaming down his face. “At least…don’t see that doctor again. Please?”

I closed the door and slid to the floor, burying my face in my hands. My mom knelt beside me, stroking my hair. “Honey, I won’t ask about the past anymore. I just want you to be happy.”

I wiped my tears. “It’s not going to happen, Mom. It’s over. He’s just here for a few days. When he leaves, things will go back to normal.”

That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. They say you should never meet the people you idolize in your memories because it ruins the memory. But Josh was different. Seeing him again…it reawakened something in me.

It was like that day in high school, when he walked nast my classroom blocking the sunlight. He past my classroom, blocking the sunlight. He was tall and lean, his back straight, like he’d never bowed to anyone.

He turned slightly, and our eyes met. My heart pounded. The sun backlit him, almost blinding me. In that moment, I knew. I was in love. After Josh left, things did return to calm, except for the group chat, which remained a whirlwind of gossip.

Strangely, my classmates seemed to have become paparazzi, constantly tracking my every move. If I had dinner with Sam, pictures would appear in the chat, tagged with, “Your first love is having dinner with another man!”

Josh would immediately send a red envelope (a digital cash gift) to whoever took the pictures. If Sam and I went to the movies, more pictures, along with captions like: “Your first love is at the movies with another man! He tried to hold her hand but chickened out.” Or: “Report: Your first love just got in the other man’s car. Unknown if hand–holding occurred.”

One day, as Sam and I were walking down the street, he suddenly turned around. Seeing no one there, he asked, “Do you feel like we’re being followed?”

I shook my head, embarrassed to admit my classmates had turned into stalkerazzi. A few days later, I visited Sam at the hospital to thank him for performing my dad’s appendectomy. My dad had insisted I invite Sam over for dinner as a thank–you.

Sam arrived with a trunk full of gifts. Pictures of us carrying the gifts into my apartment building immediately appeared in the chat: “Your first love just took the other man home to meet her parents. Wedding bells are definitely ringing.”

Someone cheekily added, “If you can’t make the wedding, just send the cash gift. I’ll pass it along. How much are you thinking of giving?”

This time, Josh didn’t react. Maybe he was finally moving on. Sam and my dad chatted for a while, then Sam came and sat next to me. He looked at my phone, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You seem to spend a lot of time on that group chat.”

“Do I?” I said defensively. “It’s just… entertaining.”