Free Graduates in Wonderland by Jessica Pan Page B

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    DECEMBER 22
    Later that day
    Rachel to Jess
    Don’t sleep with your roommate!!! You never had this problem when you lived with Astrid....
    DECEMBER 30
    Jess to Rachel
    Rachel! Rachel! Wake up! Wake the fuck up! I met a boy! All because I live with Chris, and apparently boys are like Russian dolls—­if you find one, he leads to other ones (who are inside of him???). Or boys beget boys who beget boys or something. (I don’t know, Rachel! Old Testament? WHAT DOES IT EVEN MEAN?)
    Sorry for the yelling. I don’t know where to begin. There. Is. A. Brazilian. Boy. Asleep. In. My. Bed. THERE IS A BRAZILIAN BOY ASLEEP IN MY BED! I think he is a belated Christmas present.
    He plays on Chris’s rugby team, and I met him at a terrible, terrible trashy Chinese nightclub when I was out with Chris. I wish I had some witty story about how we started talking, but we were mostly SHOUTING into each other’s ears to be heard above the music. It was dark, there were strobe lights, and I was holding a gin and tonic in a plastic cup. I think the conversation went something like:
    Me: WHERE ARE YOU FROM?
    Him: NEW ZEALAND.
    Me: OH! Like Chris! NEW ZEALANDERS UNITE!
    Him: NO! BRAZIL.
    I said it wasn’t a good story.
    The rest of the rugby team attempted to sit down in a crowded booth and I ended up on top of him. Bruno. His name is Bruno, and it turns out he is half-­Chinese, half-­Brazilian. He has a heavy accent and he is a male god. Dark beautiful skin, thick lips, broad shoulders. Somehow, sitting on his lap turned into full-­blown making out, and I just didn’t care that I was in public. At all. This is growth, right? I’m growing. Since we’re both part-­Asian, we compared our Asian glows. Do you remember this phenomenon? It’s when I (and most other Asians) drink alcohol, and our skin turns bright red, our eyes become bloodshot, and our skin becomes hot? Well, Bruno has it too (as will our children).
    At 4  A.M. , he came home with Chris and me, because he lives outside the city, and now he’s fast asleep in my bed. I can’t sleep when boys are in my bed! One person tells you that you snore and you’re doomed for life (Damn you, Astrid!). Besides, there is a Brazilian god in my bed—­who can sleep at a time like this?!
    How do I make him stay there...forever? He was a really good kisser.
    He is completely naked. Nothing happened besides making out, but in his drunken tiredness, he flung off all of his clothes.
    What do you say to a naked Brazilian god when they wake up in your bed? I would try to Google this, but currently Google is blocked in Beijing AGAIN.
    Text me your reply. I don’t care if it costs three dollars to text China.
    AHHHH,
    Jess
    DECEMBER 30
    Later that day
    Rachel to Jess
    Look, are you even sure he speaks English? I have no advice for you! In movie scenes like yours, the girl often brings back a bag of bagels and coffee and then they walk around Central Park, and the guy sort of brushes the girl’s hair out of her eyes, squints, and says, “Let’s do this again,” and he gets into a yellow cab. So...do that.
    I am at home and just finished a juice fast. I will never drink juice again. I did lose four pounds (all back now, in case you were wondering—­WORTHLESS). I would not recommend.
    Even back home and faint with hunger, I’ve gotten more writing done than I have in the six months since graduation. My dad and I just sit up in his office with our backs to each other and type, type, type.
    It’s such a peaceful life.
    It hasn’t snowed here yet, so everything is brown and muddy and gray, with bare tree branches and huge flocks of blackbirds, and in this world, New York City does not exist.
    Back there, I still have really low periods maybe once or twice a week, where it’s