Chapter Text
Only mid-September, yet evening was already falling into sub- 4-degree Celsius weather. Thirty-nine degrees Fahrenheit, Minghao reminded himself. Americans use Fahrenheit, even though no one else in the world does.
His phone buzzed. The blue glow from his iPhone was jarring, but Hao didn’t mind it. Dance practice finished especially late tonight, and while he had gotten used to the shortcut through the cemetery to his dorm, it was still comforting to have some light on moonless nights like these. Not that he was afraid of the walk; Minghao was used to the solitude.
You should have let me walk you home tonight! See you tomorrow! Let’s get dinner before practice!
I’m sry
I should have taken
Ur choreography idea
More seriously
C u
Tomorrow
Pls don’t
Be mad at me
Hahaha
Rly tho
He sighed, silver clouds exhaling and disappearing into the Vermont night air. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Jun or Soonyoung or any of the other dance team members; he just wished he didn’t seem to spend most of his waking hours with the same three people. But English was still awkward, and while he liked how dance didn’t require so much language for self-expression, he missed easy conversation. Plus, his writing tutor Jeonghan always nagged that he would only improve by speaking more. But nobody expects a first-year Chinese international student to provide a dazzling or witty banter.
Minghao shoved his phone in his back pocket and tried not to think about home. You love America, he told himself. The East Coast is such a great adventure and tomorrow you’ll show Soonyoung that back flip and –
“Hello?”
Minghao stopped, wary. The cemetery was public grounds, and town locals didn’t love international students. Half his brain cycled through years of martial arts training while the other half told him to calm down and act normally.
The sound of leaves crunching underfoot drew near. “Hello…? I thought I heard – oh, hi.”
Minghao sighed, relieved. The voiced belonged to a skinny Asian boy in a frumpy sweatshirt and a backwards baseball hat, not a menacing local. “Hello,” Hao acknowledged.
“S-sorry to scare you, man. I was just surprised because I didn’t think anyone else walked here at night. I’m heading back to the dorms from the music building… you’re a student too, right?”
American-born, Minghao noted. That dammed perfect English. “Yes… I am going to the dorms too. From the dance building,” he said carefully.
“Oh, dance. Cool, bro,” the American boy said. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”
“No, that’s okay. You didn’t scare me.” Minghao put his hands in his pockets and continued walking. It was too cold to stand still, and his Uniqlo bubble jacket did nothing to keep out the windchill.
The American boy walked next to him. “So, how come you’re walking back so late? I walk here all the time and I didn’t think anyone else knew this shortcut.”
Minghao thought about the words before making his sentence; Jeonghan said that might help him speak more confidently. “Our dance practice goes very late today, so I am walking home late. Usually, not this late.”
“No wonder I never see you,” the boy said. “It’s like after 10 PM! My music practice usually gets out around now. What, uh, kind of dance do you do?”
“At school, I do contemporary dance. But, at home, b-boy.”
The American boy stopped in his tracks, so Minghao also stopped out of politeness, although he wished he wouldn’t because his hands were starting to hurt from the cold. “B-boy? That’s amazing! I wish I could do that, but I only know one trick – look –“ The boy grinned and pindropped onto the leaf-covered cemetery floor.
Minghao smiled. “Wow, not bad!” He hoped that didn’t sound sarcastic. There was no concept of sarcasm in Chinese culture, but Jeonghan said that sometimes in English, you mean the opposite of what you say, and it might cause misunderstandings. He didn’t find the pindrop very exceptional, but he didn’t want the boy to know that.
“I know you didn’t mean that. It’s not very good,” the boy laughed sheepishly as they continued walking. “I’m like, not really a dancer, I guess. Music and singing is more of my thing. I’m a music major,” the boy explained.
“I love music! Do – do you play any instruments?”
The boy laughed. “I hoped you would ask! I play guitar. I’ve played it since I was a kid when my mom gave me my guitar, and I’d really like to learn drums and other instruments too. But guitar is definitely my thing. I also sing, but I don’t know if I’m any good at it.”
“I think you would have a beautiful singing voice,” Minghao replied honestly. “Your mom… is in America too?” Hopefully that made sense.
“My mom… she’s in America, yeah.” The boy paused, and Minghao wondered if he had said something wrong. Maybe he had a bad relationship with his mom and didn’t want to talk about it, and it was rude to ask, or made the boy feel bad, or – “She’s in California, which is where I’m from. But it’s so far away that it feels like a different country.”
“My mom is far away too. In China. But California is also very far away,” Minghao added quickly. He didn’t want the boy to think that he was trying to outcompete him in who was more foreign to the East Coast. “Vermont is… very different. California and China are like different countries from here.”
“Right, man?” The boy exclaimed. “See, you get it. So many people don’t believe me but California is like a totally different country from the East Coast. The culture shock is, like, so real.”
Minghao nodded, and the two continued walking in silence save for the soft sounds of their breathing and footsteps. The warm light of the dorms came into view, and Minghao gestured towards Stewart Hall. “Here is my dorm.”
“Oh, you must be a freshman! I live in LaForce. Hey, I never introduced myself,” He extended his hand. “I’m Joshua.”
Hao shook the boy’s hand; it was extraordinarily large and strangely comforting. “I’m Minghao.”
“Nice to meet you, Minghao,” Joshua grinned. In the dim light, Minghao could see the corners of his mouth curve upwards, catlike. “Hey, man, if you’re going to go the same way tomorrow, wanna get dinner together? Like 5, 6 PM or something? If you’re free that is.”
Minghao smiled, and despite the fall air, his face felt warm. “Yes, I am free. I would like to get dinner with you.”
“Great, man. Now I don’t have to walk by myself. By the way, what’s your number?” Joshua handed his phone to Minghao, who punched in his number and returned it. “See you tomorrow, Minghao.” He turned around and walked into the evening.
“See you tomorrow, Joshua.” He waved, although Joshua surely couldn’t see him.
Tomorrow morning at tutoring hours he would tell Jeonghan about his long English conversation. He would ask Jeonghan to help him prepare what to chat about over dinner.
Despite Mingyu’s snoring, Minghao slept soundly that night. That is, until he woke up suddenly at 2 AM remembering to text Jun back. Sorry, I can’t get dinner with you tomorrow. See you at dance practice though.
Jun messaged him back immediately. AWEJFILJIDSJFLID DO YOU HAVE A DATE?
Minghao smiled, falling back asleep. Mingyu’s snoring gently drowned out the continued buzzing of his phone.