woman wearing irish linen shirt

I sat in the co-pilot and put on my seat belt.Miss Pan De first turned around to confirm my situation, and then asked: "Is everything all right?" Seeing me nodding, she started the car.

The air-conditioning in the car was very strong, and the scorching heat brought in when the door was just opened was instantly dispelled, and the sunlight was isolated from the glass windows.Miss Pender changed into a pair of square polarizers after she got in the car, which suits her very well.Her silhouette is so deep that I didn't realize before that she has such smooth bones that she can even manage angular sunglasses.

Miss Pender's car is bigger than I thought.I was blinded by the black color, and guessed it was a sedan, but here, it is rare for a car of this displacement to be used for personal use-her car does not even have a child safety seat, the interior is clean, only the rear There is a box of tissues.I also saw two small lumbar pillows when putting things in the trunk, maybe she would occasionally take a lunch break in the car.

She didn't wear a wedding ring, so buying such a car was probably out of interest.

Indians like to buy British cars, just like we like to buy German cars: although we buy German cars many times for "safety", or a marketing cue related to safety, Indians just... like it.But this is too stereotyped, and I don't know much about cars, so I started a separate topic: "People all over Singapore are playing badminton on weekends. I didn't expect you to be able to book an indoor court."

"I just got lucky," she explained, "someone just happened to cancel a [-]pm-[-]pm reservation."

"An hour? Just the two of us?"

"You can take a rest if you are tired halfway, and relax." She laughed, "I also brought some snacks made at home, which may give you a little energy."

I was very surprised: "Can you cook?"

She turned and glanced at me, dark glasses blocking her eyes: "I've lived in America since seventh grade. There were no Asians in Massachusetts, you know, and I was in the same dorm with a Japanese girl. There was only We are two Asians, thanks to her I am very good at making tonkatsu."

"Wow." She definitely wasn't talking about the semi-finished products in the supermarket. It is very troublesome to make tonkatsu from scratch.I was a little impressed, and sighed: "It must have been a hard and fulfilling time for you. Moving to the other side of the world, culture shock, and different teaching methods... It's amazing that you can cook by yourself."

"That's nothing special." She walked carefully through a side road. "You must think that I grew up in England, surrounded by a group of servants, and went back to New Delhi once or twice a year. I didn't even go out of the city center, just say Indians who say 'I love my country'. I'm not that type."

I froze there, she was still concentrating on driving, not looking at me.I resolved to be honest: "Frankly, given your age and position, and you're in a Commonwealth country, I do sometimes guess that way. I apologize for the stereotype."

She turned around for a moment, her smile seemed interested: "Don't worry about it. You are more interesting than I thought, Yao."

Is this a compliment?I didn't jump in and said, "I'm just trying to be upfront."

"I admire it," she said, "but it's not your job to be honest with me, and maybe it's better to give up trying."

The strings in my brain suddenly tensed.

At this time, she continued, "But I really didn't expect you to tell the truth."

I said, "This is what you hear when I try to be honest."

"Okay." She smiled. "I won't encourage you to do that, but I'm glad to hear a truth once in a while."

I just went to the badminton court with trepidation.

Today is obviously a private meeting. Although it is easy for two partners with awkward positions to meet in private frequently, I still did not expect that she would drag me out of the chat and let me face reality.

Is this hitting me?threaten me?Warn me?

Or is this just a joke with black humor?

Miss Pender took the snacks she had made from the small refrigerator and put them in thermal bags.I carried our racket on one arm and two bags of clothes on the other.

She didn't insist on carrying their own, but raised her eyebrows and said, "Very gentleman! Thank you, Yao."

"Thank you for your gentlemanly preparation of snacks for us." I said, "Now I hope I will be tired after playing for five minutes."

This joke made her very satisfied.It seems that Miss Pan De is very confident in her cooking skills.

I waited for her to open the locker before I went to the next door to open my own locker. Maybe Miss Pender didn't notice, or she thoughtfully understood the shyness of an East Asian girl.In short, she didn't ask any more questions, and I was relieved, because I didn't know how to explain it: I can't really push it to East Asian stereotypes, can I?We already have to bear the label of bad driving and good math, and I don't want to add something weird on top of that.

Thanks to my mother who is from the south, I have not been taken to the bathhouse like ordinary northern children.

After changing into her tracksuit, Miss Pender put on a high ponytail.Her forehead was completely exposed, and her slightly curly hair was tied neatly behind her head, which was quite different from her usual elegant and calm appearance.I suddenly felt that this was a formidable opponent, and after spinning the racket twice in my hand, I decided to compete with her for the right to serve: I planned to give it to her before.

Yes, although my cardiopulmonary function and reaction speed are not as good as they were at their peak, I am very good at badminton.

Miss Pender is the darling of luck.She serves the first ball.

She is even better at sports than she looks, and she definitely keeps exercising all year round, as if she just warmed up after a game.My heart rate was already high during the warm-up, and I was sweating a lot. I lost two goals, one of which was a pass, and the other was a real miss.

Standing on the sidelines and drinking two sips of water, she looked at me provocatively, my fighting spirit rose immediately, I wiped my hands and clenched my racket, and hooked my chin at her.

The performance just now attracted several golfers in line, and there were already spectators on the sidelines at the beginning of the second round.

I originally planned to let her have one or two balls in the middle, but her heartbeat was obviously faster than in the first round, and the reaction of her legs was not as sensitive as before. The result of releasing water is likely to be a fiasco.It's one thing for me to let her win, but it's another thing in my mind if she really loses. There are spectators in this game, and we are obviously more involved than the last game.

With this investment, it took half an hour for the second game to end.As soon as she got the game point, she was tied. Repeatedly, winning her two goals was even more difficult than the original plan in Vietnam.

There is not much time left, and a one-to-one tie is not too embarrassing. We gave up the place to the guests behind and sat on the bench to rest.

"You're amazing." I said.I stretched very reluctantly, and now the calf muscles are beating uncontrollably, and tomorrow will definitely be miserable.

Miss Pender just looked at me with a smile and didn't speak.There was a thin layer of sweat on her neck, which gradually gathered together with the ups and downs of breathing. The sweat on the left and right sides of the forehead wet the scattered hair, and occasionally one or two strands stuck to the side of the temple, which made people unable to bear to look closely.I squeezed my hands tightly behind my back, so as not to cut her hair inadvertently, that would be too inappropriate.

At this moment Miss Pender approached suddenly.

I remained motionless as her hand brushed behind my ear, gathering the broken hair.

Her voice envelops me with the smell of her perfume: "You are also amazing."

"Thank you." I lowered my head and untied the ponytail and tied it again.

"you know--"

"What?" I answered too quickly and accidentally interrupted Miss Pender.

She laughed suddenly, with a mischievous look in her eyes, and said, "You know, this is the first time I've made a little sandwich like this. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to know."

I tried to calm down and took one and put it in my mouth.Tomatoes are so fresh and ice-cold, it feels surprisingly refreshing to eat them now.I ate the remaining half as well, commenting: "The absence of pickles brings it one step closer to perfection."

"Write it down." She looked puzzled, "You hate pickles?"

"That's why I accepted Crab Shell's invitation to come to Singapore." I restrained and rolled my eyes, "Pickles are basically a national treasure, and Jubilee's biscuits are so sweet that it makes me faint. I just Want to eat something better for my stomach. Maybe it would be better to move to the west of the US, but if it's going to be on the other side of the US, why don't I just move back to the other side of the world?"

"It makes sense." She nodded slightly, "What major did you study, and why didn't you go back to your hometown?"

"By chance, I guess?" I said, "I was in engineering school for my PhD."

She nodded without further questioning, and returned to the topic of pickled cucumbers: "How about European pickled cucumbers?"

I couldn't help making a face: "German pickled cucumbers are, without exaggeration, a disaster. I once ate a French pickled cucumber made by a classmate. It was very sour and sweeter than German pickled cucumbers. Pickled cucumbers are much more palatable."

"So you were an exchange student in Germany." She looked at me. "You even tried kohlrabi pickles. Why? Even pure imagination can tell that it tastes... bold."

then?Which was then?

I came back to my senses: "So we met in 09 or 10. In 09, right? You and I flew from Boston to Frankfurt?"

There was a moment of annoyance in her eyes, but she didn't deny it: "That's why I hate talking to people who are too smart."

"Well," I couldn't restrain my smile, after all, it's very difficult to win a round from Miss Pender, "At least you don't hate talking to me."

"Why?" She raised an eyebrow, "Don't tell me you don't think you're 'too smart'."

"It just feels that way." I looked at her, and repeated with certainty, "You don't hate talking to me."