The group entered the sprawling casino where the gaming tables seemed to glow with a peachy, golden light. Colin crossed the opulent sea anemone–patterned carpet and approached the Texas hold ’em table. “Colin, the VIP salons are this way,” Bernard said, trying to steer Colin toward the sumptuous salons reserved for high rollers.

“But it’s more fun to play five-dollar poker,” Colin argued.

“No, no, we’re moguls, man! I created that whole scene with the manager just so we could score the best VIP room. Why would you want to mix with all these smelly Mainlanders out here?” Bernard said.

“Let me just play a couple of rounds here and then we’ll go to the VIP room, okay?” Colin pleaded.

“I’ll join you, Colin,” Alistair said, sliding into a seat.

Bernard smiled tightly, looking like a rabid Boston terrier. “Well I’m going to our VIP room. I can’t play at these kiddie tables—I only get hard when I’m betting at least thirty thousand per hand,” he said with a sniff. “Who’s with me?” Most of Bernard’s entourage peeled off with him, with the exception of Nick, Mehmet, and Lionel. Colin’s face clouded over.

Nick took the other seat beside Colin. “I have to warn you guys, two years in New York has made me quite a cardsharp. Prepare to be schooled by the master … Colin, remind me what game this is?” he said, trying to lighten the mood. As the dealer began to expertly flick the cards across the table, Nick quietly fumed. Bernard had always been a troublemaker. Why should things be any different this weekend?

SINGAPORE, 1986

 

It all happened so fast, the next thing Nick remembered was the feeling of cold damp mud against his neck and a strange face looking down on him. Dark skin, freckles, a shock of brownish-black hair.

“Are you okay?” the dark boy asked.

“I think so,” Nick said, his vision coming back into focus. His entire back was soaked in muddy water from being pushed into the ditch. He got up slowly and looked around to see Bernard leering at him, red-faced, arms crossed like an angry old man.

“I’m going to tell your mum that you hit me!” Bernard shouted at the boy.

“And I’m going to tell your mum that you’re a bully. Plus, I didn’t hit you—I just pushed you away,” the boy replied.

“It was none of your bloody business! I’m trying to teach this little dick here a lesson!” Bernard seethed.

“I saw the way you shoved him into the ditch. You could have really hurt him. Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” the boy replied calmly, not the least intimidated by Bernard.

At that point, a metallic-gold Mercedes limousine pulled up to the driveway outside the school. Bernard glanced at the car briefly, and then turned back to Nick. “This isn’t over. Get ready for part two tomorrow—I’m really going to hun tumb you!” He got into the backseat of the car, slammed the door, and was driven away.

The boy who had come to Nick’s rescue looked at him and said, “You okay? Your elbow’s bleeding.”

Nick looked down and noticed the bloody scrape on his right elbow. He wasn’t sure what to do about it. At any moment, one of his parents could arrive to pick him up, and if it happened to be his mother, he knew she would get all gan cheongc if she saw him bleeding like this. The boy took a white, perfectly folded handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to Nick. “Here, use this,” he said.

Nick took the handkerchief from his rescuer and held it to his elbow. He had seen this boy around. Colin Khoo. He had transferred in this semester, and he was hard to miss, with his deep-caramel skin and wavy hair with the strange light brown streak in the front. They weren’t in the same class, but Nick had noticed during PE that the boy had swim practice alone with Coach Lee.

“What did you do to piss off Bernard so much?” Colin asked.

Nick had never heard someone use the term “piss off” before, but he knew what it meant. “I caught him trying to cheat off my maths test, so I told Miss Ng. He got in trouble and was sent to Vice Principal Chia’s office, so now he wants to pick a fight.”

“Bernard tries to pick a fight with everyone,” Colin said.

“Are you good friends with him?” Nick asked carefully.

“Not really. His father does business with my family, so I’m told I have to be nice to him,” Colin said. “But to tell you the truth, I can’t really stand him.”

Nick smiled. “Whew! For a second I thought Bernard actually had one friend!”

Colin laughed.

“Is it true you’re from America?” Nick asked.

“I was born here, but I moved to Los Angeles when I was two.”

“What’s LA like? Did you live in Hollywood?” Nick asked. He had never met anyone his age who had lived in America.

“Not Hollywood. But we weren’t very far—we lived in Bel Air.”

“I’d like to visit Universal Studios. Did you ever see famous movie stars?”

“All the time. It’s no big deal when you live there.” Colin looked at Nick, as if assessing him for a moment, before continuing. “I’m going to tell you something, but first you have to swear not to tell anyone.”

“Okay. Sure,” Nick replied earnestly.

“Say, ‘I swear.’ ”

“I swear.”

“Have you heard of Sylvester Stallone?”

“Of course!”

“He was my neighbor,” Colin said, almost in a whisper.

“Come on, that’s bullshit,” Nick said.

“I’m not bullshitting you. It’s the truth. I have a signed photo from Stallone in my bedroom,” Colin said.

Nick jumped up onto the metal guardrail in front of the ditch, balancing himself nimbly on the thin railing as he moved back and forth like a tightrope walker.

“Why are you here so late?” Colin inquired.

“I’m always here late. My parents are so busy, sometimes they forget to pick me up. Why are you here?”

“I had to take a special test in Mandarin. They don’t think I’m good enough, even though I took classes every day in LA.”

“I suck at Mandarin too. It’s my least favorite subject.”

“Join the club,” Colin said, jumping up onto the railing with him. Just then, a large black vintage car pulled up. Ensconced in the backseat was the most curious woman Nick had ever seen. She was rotund with the most immense double chin, probably in her sixties, dressed entirely in black with a black hat and a black veil over her face, which was powdered an extreme shade of white. She looked like an apparition straight out of a silent film.

“Here’s my ride,” Colin said excitedly. “See you later.” The uniformed chauffeur got out and opened the door for Colin. Nick noticed that the car door opened opposite from the way other cars normally did—outward from the end nearest to the driver’s door. Colin climbed in beside the woman, who bent down to kiss him on the cheek. He looked out of the window at Nick, clearly embarrassed that Nick had witnessed this scene. The woman pointed at Nick, talking to Colin while the car idled. A moment later, Colin jumped out of the car again.

“My grandma wants to know if you need a ride home,” Colin asked.