Refugee Prison Break

Chapter 1

I became friends with Basuki, or Bas as I call him, when I told him I wanted to marry him. We were both five years old, and had only met minutes before. His answer was immediate and forceful: "Go away!"

We went to the same school and grew up in the same condo complex. Bas's apartment was in Tower A, and mine was in Tower B, and we could see each other from our bedroom windows. Before we were old enough to have phones, we would exchange dumb messages using big sheets of paper.

The island of Penang in Malaysia was a beautiful place to grow up. Jungle-covered mountains, palm-lined beaches, morning sunshine, afternoon storms, a lively, tasty nightlife. That's why, from around the age of thirteen, I found it odd that Bas would begin dreaming of getting away. America—he wanted to go to America.

Specifically, he wanted to go to San Francisco. One day after school, he showed me a poster of the Golden Gate bridge he had bought, planning to hang it by his bed.

"Penang Bridge is just as impressive!" I told him. "Anyway, if you go there, who am I supposed to hang out with and mentor?" Bas wasn't the brightest kid in our class, and I enjoyed both teasing him, and helping with his homework.

Around a year later, I began to understand his obsession. Bas had made a new friend, a guy from a neighboring school called Jee-Say. Jee-Say was the hottest guy I had ever met. He was slim, tall, had thick black hair and a smile that made my heart jump.

"Is he single?" I asked.

Bas shook his head.

"So who's his girlfriend?"

Bas paused for a second. "He doesn't have a girlfriend."

"How can he be single and not have a girlfriend? You're not making sense. That must mean he has a boyfriend!" I said, jokingly.

When Bas stayed quiet and appeared anxious, my demeanor changed from jovial to serious.

"You mean he has a boyfriend?"

Bas continued his silence.

"Wait... Are you his boyfriend?"