Lila Pham works at one of the busiest nail salons in the city; with business booming out of proportion and her fear of her friends and fellow classmates discovering her location of work is at bay, all seems to be going well.
Except for the fact tha...
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"I know I did."
I adjust my weight on my queen-sized mattress, getting comfortable as the elbows that propped up my upper body was growing numb. I've been staring off at my makeup station for the past fifteen minutes, revisiting Kenji's words since last night. The one sentence spoken standing out largely against the rest.
I know I did.
What does that mean?
Does that mean that Kenji was once like me? Where he didn't know anything about his culture? Does that mean that his friends made fun of him for being Asian and his friends concocted a lot of stereotypical jokes about being Asian? Does that mean that Kenji was once popular and cared about his status as much as I do?
What does it mean?
Or maybe I'm just overthinking his words and Kenji actually meant something else—something completely unrelated to culture. Maybe he did once cared about people's opinions—about what other thought of him—but for an unrelated topic. Maybe it was just primarily popularity, or his looks, or his grades, or his—
"Lila." I snapped off from my spiralling thoughts and look up, finding my mother knocking her knuckles against the white wooden door. Her jet-black hair wrapped in a loose bun as she gives me a concerned look. "Con đang làm gì vậy? [What are you doing?]"
I shake my head, ridding myself of the haunting words. "Đâu có gì đâu. [Nothing.]"
She doesn't look too convinced from my words—probably because of mother's instincts—but nonetheless, doesn't push it. Her eyes scanned across the room, for a brief moment, before landing back on me. "Con có lái xe đi học như này không? [Are you driving your car to school today?]"
My brows furrowed at her unusual question. I nod my head. "Dạ có. [Yes.]"
She remains neutral in her facial expression, giving off the fact that my words didn't penetrate her as a surprise. Instead, it caused me to question why she would ask me that in the first place. She glances back around the room. "Thì sao có con trai đợi ở ngoài nhà mình làm gì vậy? [Then why is a boy standing outside our house, waiting for something?]"
My expression hasn't changed as I look at my mother with confusion. I ran a check through my head mentally, wondering who could be out there waiting for—I stopped. The sudden realisation dawns on me and I shot myself up from my spot. I run from my bed to my window, peeking through the blinds to see the familiar black Jeep Wrangler parked behind my mother's car.
He did not.
Kenji continues to stay inside of the car, and I had to rub my eyes to make sure I wasn't imagining things. When the blurred vision cleared, and his car continues to stand in the driveway, I swallowed hard.
"Má, con phải cần đi, [Mom, I have to go.]" I announces, rushing over to unplug my phone and running over to grab a hold of my backpack. I threw the strap over my left shoulder as I bid my mother a peck on the cheek before exiting out of the bedroom, running down the stairs and towards the front.
