The ride back to Dayu’s home was thick with tension and awkwardness. Dayu sat plastered to the window refusing to look anywhere but out the window. His mother was in the front seat next to the driver rambling on about the dishes she was going to prepare for us to celebrate our relationship. I could do nothing but make mild noises of agreement. I kept sneaking glances at Dayu out of the corner of my eye, taking note of the way his fist clenched when she mentioned anything about our “new romance”.

When we arrived at their home I offered to pay for the taxi but Dayu roughly cut me off and handed the driver some bills. His mother, oblivious to the storm raging inside her son, scolded him for not allowing his boyfriend to take care of him. He gave her a tight-lipped smile and a comment about not wanting to be a pampered and kept . His mother blanched at the comment but decided it was better to let it go as she led us into her home.

I was left to follow silently, pondering Dayu’s statement. Did he really think that was what he was to me? Is that how he sees what we have been doing? I will admit my strategy for wooing him has been less than orthodox, but I have never treated him like a . Have I?

Mrs. Feng insisted that Dayu show me his room, and we just relax while she prepares a meal for her “sons.” Dayu visibly flinched when she said that but like the filial son that he is he led me to his room and shut the door behind us.

He snatched his jacket from his shoulders and threw it across his bed before sitting heavily on the side. Dayu’s room was small but neat. There was a bed, a simple dresser, a small desk with a lamp on it, and posters of our University covering most of the walls. There were notes taped next to each poster. Each held different notes about the what Dayu needed in order to attend our school. It seems he was determined to get in the university at all cost and had done nothing but prepared for it most of his life.

“You were determined to excel and enter our university for a long time it seems. I’m impressed with your tenacity and dedication.”

Dayu had been staring at the floor when I spoke, but he lifted his gaze at my words. His gaze was hard and there was a hateful glint in his eyes when he replied.

“What the do you care.”

I was a bit startled at how deep and menacing his voice came out. I knew he was angry but   I was underestimating how deep his fury ran.

“Of course I care Dayu, you're my friend-”

“You are not my friend. You’re my damn boyfriend remember? That’s what you told my mother. I have always assumed that all that glitz and glam you were ing slower than a frozen molasses drip but you couldn’t have forgotten that already. When we were at the restaurant you told my mother her son, her only ing child was gay remember now, honey.”

He said all this with a nasty sneer on his lips and his voiced laced with venom. Dayu at first glance, with his small stature and bright, round eyes' comes off as mild and non-threatening. But, this Dayu, the one sitting in front of me, gave me pause to consider my next words carefully.

“I can explain things to your mother-”

Dayu stood abruptly and crossed the room to stand in front of and even though he had to look up to meet my gaze he was as fierce as a cornered cobra.

“How the do you explain away telling my mother that we are together? How do you plan on explaining my reaction to the statement? You can’t because it would make my mother feel stupid like we were trying to make a fool of her. You were so ing dead set on one-upping me in this stupid game you forced me into that you didn’t even think twice about involving my mother into your sick plan. You did something dirty and underhand, now we are both trapped in this ing drama you created. Was it ing worth it? Was it you pig? Was embarrassing me and shaming me in front of my family worth whatever win you garnered. You make me ing sick.”

Dayu brushed past my slamming his shoulder into mine as he stormed past. I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves as he exited his room.

I stood alone in his room replaying what he had said to me. I am a man and can admit my mistakes. I was wrong to outs our situation to his mother like I did, but I do care for him. He seems to think he is just a conquest to me, just toy to be played with and replaced when I lose interest. I am unsure of what I feel for Dayu, but I know I care enough about him to worry about how he views me.

I let my gaze drift around the room and my eyes land on an album on his desk. Dayu, I am sure has a mental list of all my transgressions against him, I might as well as invasion of privacy to the list. I lift the cover and thumb through the pages.

There are pictures of Dayu as a baby with his mother and his father before he passed. Pictures of an older woman I assume to be his grandmother and pictures of various stages of his life. Most of the picture are with his mother. Further, along in the album Quishi appears, Dayu appears to be in his first year of high school. He’s smiling brightly at the camera as Quishi rings water from his hair.

I turn when I hear the door creak to see his mother standing in the doorway.  She gives me a soft smile and walks over to see what I am looking at. Spying the picture of Quishi and Dayu she laughs softly.

“This was a picture I took when we went camping right before Dayu’s freshman year. We met Quishi’s family because they were staying in the campground as well. My Dayu, for all his rough edges is a soft soul.  He told me at the age of five he was going to work hard to get into a great school and become a rich business man so I didn’t have to work ever again. When other kids were outside playing, he was tucked away in here studying. Most of the arguments we had as he was growing up were because he refused to go outside and socialize. “

She smiled fondly down at the picture and ran a finger softly across the faces of her son and his best friend.

“But, then Quishi showed up with his soft features and quiet demeanor. He was not bothered by Dayu’s rough words and grumpy disposition. He took root in Dayu’s life and became his first friend, his best friend. Dayu is determined to give me a better life and often forgets he needs to live his life too. I trust Quishi to remind him of this, but; now,  I will trust you too, Qing. Take care of my Dayu, okay?”

She pats me on the arm and smiled up at me. Looking her in the eyes and telling her that I was just playing a cruel joke on her and her son would be horrible. I for the first time I can remember feeling regret. I gave a small nod as she grabbed my hand and led me out to the table for dinner, Dayu is bringing dishes to the table and pauses when he sees my hand linked with his mother. A slight scowl dips between his brow but is gone as quick as it appears when his mother glances at him. I watched in amazement at the smile that split his face when he looked at his mother.

“Ma. How do you plan on eating if you are holding Qing’s hand? Quickly sit down. Let’s eat while the food is hot.”

Dinner was a quiet affair with Dayu’s mother doing most of the talking. It passed quickly and soon it was time for us to return to school. I called a cab while Dayu’s mother loaded him down with leftovers to take back because she claimed he was losing weight. We rode home in silence once again and Dayu didn’t even acknowledge my presence until we reached the door, and he asked me to unlock it because his hands were full.

Again, he brushed past me and into the kitchen area to put away the food. I stood next to the sofa unsure of how to approach him when he solved the problem for me.

“Sit the down and listen. We have many things to discuss and a contract to negotiate my terms and mine only. You will accept my terms or get the out because I am tired of being your plaything.”