Shanghai Girl by Vivian Yang

considered victims of bourgeois liberalism and criticized as the dregs of the student body. Expulsion, after schoolwide humiliation known as “self-criticism,” is a common punishment for students caught in premarital relationships. Thus, my knowledge of boyfriends is more imaginary than real. And I’ve had my share of imagining.
    Still, I did have a few encounters with boys. During my sophomore year, a handsome upperclassman I knew once approached me in a dimly lit corner of the library. "Do you know how foreigners kiss?" he asked, pursing his mouth into an "O."
    "No, I don't want to know."
    "You're not telling the truth. You do want to know."
    My cheeks burned.
    He blocked my way into the aisle. "You're blushing," he said. And he touched my face. "You want to be kissed, don't you?"
    I recoiled, yet felt warmth between my legs. "Please let me go?" I pleaded.
    My plea must have encouraged him, for he planted a moist kiss on my mouth enthusiastically. I eased away from him and ran into the ladies room, where I discovered a damp, colorless stream had stained my panties similar to the sticky onset of a menstrual period.
    I had been overcome by guilt. For a virgin to experience arousal was a social and ethical taboo. After all, Chi Gu, the words for the pubic bone in Chinese mean "the bone of shame." Even thinking of Chi Gu was supposed to make a woman feel disgraceful. The sticky stain was a warning. I must avoid the upperclassman's advances.
    Then, Lu Long came along. We met in “The History of the Chinese Communist Party” class, a mandatory course for students of all majors. During one class, Lu Long, who was majored in mathematics, slipped me a note in broken English:
     
    "Dear Hong Sha-fei,
    Your English very nice. I want go U.S. I want you, together study. OK?
    I am sitting your behind, two positions.
    Lu Long"
     
    On the back of the note, I wrote in English: "OK. Let's study English together and help each other."
    I didn't own a bicycle then. Lu Long offered me rides across campus side straddling on his. We agreed to practice English while on the bicycle.
    "I exercise mouth English and go U.S.A.," he would say.
    "You practice oral English in order to go to the U.S.," I would correct him.
    "Yes, yes. We practice oral drills, hard on and up everyday."
    "Well, we practice hard and make progress every day."
    "In U.S., bicycle useless. I drive you in big car. I want you sit on me together!"
    Back and forth, on campus, we rode and practiced.
    Once, he suggested that I wrap my arms around his waist for better balance. I declined coquettishly, arguing that we might be perceived by the school as being too intimate. Lu Long agreed that an embrace on the bicycle might indeed endanger our future chances of being granted the permission by the school to go abroad to study.
    More than once when I was near Lu Long, I had experienced the sensation of wanting to be hugged. But for the benefit of both of us, we never let that happen. Just two months ago, he managed to get a scholarship to go to New York for graduate school. He has written me a few letters saying he was busy surviving and wished I could also have a chance to study in New York.
    I look into Gordon's eyes and say, "I have nobody but you to discuss with whether or not to go to America right now, Uncle Gordon. I'm so used to making all major decisions about my life, I'm not hesitant over this one. Could you please help me?"
    Gordon examines me like a director trying to decide whether to star me in his movie. There are no more clouds of steam rising from our soup bowls. Once-floating blood chunks in the soup start to sink. The food has gone cold.
    I look around. Three waiters wearing soiled white smocks are leaning against the entrance to the kitchen, looking in the direction of our table, chatting among themselves. Two are puffing on cigarettes. The third throws me a silly smile. People at the tables surrounding us are talking, drowning out each other’s voices. I see a