Generation Misfits

by Akemi Dawn Bowman

  “You’re definitely a duck-egg blue,” Zuki said. “Understated and cool.”

  “Whatever is happening in your brain right now, please leave me out of it,” Ashley said like a warning.

  Zuki looked too excited to care.

  Not wanting to waste any more time, Millie took the essay back from Zuki and set it on Mrs. Devon’s desk. She stared at it for an extra second before turning it over. She stared at it for another two seconds before pushing it a few inches to the left. And she stared at it for another half of a second before straightening it again.

  She turned around to look at Zuki and Ashley. “Does that look okay?”

  Zuki frowned. “Maybe you could hide it underneath something? You know, to make it look like Mrs. Devon accidentally left it there?”

  Ashley rolled their eyes, stomped over to the desk, and flicked the essay from the table. It sailed into the air for a moment before gently falling to the linoleum floor.

  “What did you do that for?” Zuki demanded.

  “You wanted it to look like Mrs. Devon accidentally left it behind.” Ashley motioned toward the ground. “Now it looks realistic.”

  “Let’s just go before someone sees us,” Millie said, tugging at her sleeves. Zuki might enjoy a bit of espionage, but Millie was pretty sure she might actually be allergic to it. Her neck was itchy, her palms were sweating, and her head was spinning like a carnival ride.

  The three of them headed back to the other classroom, making sure to close both doors behind them. The distance didn’t do much to calm Millie’s nerves, but at least she wasn’t going to fail another assignment. And it was all because of Zuki and Ashley.

  “Thanks for your help,” Millie said gratefully.

  Ashley shrugged. “No problem.”

  “What class is this?” Zuki looked around suspiciously. “And how did you know the supply closet connected to Mrs. Devon’s room?”

  “I guess people in detention know things,” Ashley replied coolly.

  Zuki’s eyes widened. “So you are in detention.”

  “I think that was sarcasm,” Millie said out of the corner of her mouth.

  Zuki looked deflated. Whether it was curiosity or a need to be in control, she obviously wasn’t happy about not knowing every detail.

  The late bell rang as if on cue.

  “We better go,” Millie said, glancing at Zuki.

  But just as they turned to leave, Millie noticed a dark green backpack on the floor near the teacher’s desk. It was covered in colorful patches of cartoon characters and band logos. But one in particular stood out the most.

  Big chunky letters—a G and an L—surrounded by a swooping rainbow heart. Generation Love.

  Millie’s heart fluttered. “You listen to Generation Love?”

  Zuki froze when she heard the name, spinning to face Ashley again.

  Ashley looked down at their backpack and grunted like it wasn’t a big deal. “Yeah. So what?”

  Zuki’s face shifted completely, like a deep sense of understanding was dawning on her. She didn’t look wary anymore; she looked positively jubilant. “It’s kismet!” she exclaimed wildly.

  Ashley made a face. “It’s kiss what?”

  “Fate,” Zuki declared proudly. Excitement twinkled in her eyes. “It’s why we ran into each other.” She looked at Millie with a wide grin. “Don’t you see? This is why we’re here. To find our third member!”

  Ashley held up their hands. “You’re saying a lot of words I don’t understand—”

  “You have to join J-Club!” Zuki interrupted. “We meet after school on Thursdays. You’ll love it! Technically it started off as a Japanese cultural appreciation club—that’s the only way the school would approve it, because they said we needed an ‘educational’ aspect—but loving J-Pop is a form of cultural appreciation, so now that the club has been approved, we mostly just focus on music. And more specifically, our love for the best group on the face of the planet.” Her eyes looked like they were ready to swallow the world.

  Ashley’s hands dropped and their expression darkened. “Sorry, I’m not really a club kind of person.”

  Zuki wasn’t deterred. “You have to come. At least once, just to see if you like it. Which I know you will, because how could you not? It’s amazing! We get to hang out, and talk about Chiyo, and watch music videos, and—”

  Ashley shook their head. “Look, no offense, but I don’t see the point in clubs that are just for socializing. It’s a waste of time, unless you’re looking to make friends.” There was a brief pause. “Which I’m not,” they added, in case Millie and Zuki hadn’t quite gotten the message.

  “Pleeeeease?” Zuki begged, dragging out the word. “I even made key chains!” She pointed to the string of beads on her backpack desperately.

  Ashley visibly cringed before stuffing their hands in their pockets. “It’s just not for me,” they said finally.

  Zuki’s shoulders sagged, heavy with disappointment.

  Millie could feel the tension in the air and wanted to get away from it as fast as possible. “Come on,” Millie said quietly, inching toward the door. “Or else we’ll miss the bus.”

  Zuki nodded, and the two of them headed for the front gates without looking back. On the bus ride home, Millie couldn’t stop thinking about Ashley. Something about their words just didn’t add up.

  Because for someone so adamant about not wanting friends, Ashley Seo sure had a knack for helping people they barely knew.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Zuki didn’t bring up what had happened after school the day before, so Millie decided it was best if she didn’t either. But it was clear Zuki had taken Ashley’s refusal to join J-Club as a personal rejection. Because for the first time since Millie met her, Zuki hardly said anything at all.

  “Did you check the fan forums last night?” Millie tried when they were sitting together in the cafeteria. “Apparently Chiyo might be dating Jake Takeshi from that new singing competition show.”

  Zuki hummed noncommittally, fingers brushing over her rows of rainbow bracelets.

  “There was a photo of them smiling backstage,” Millie continued. “It didn’t look like anything to me, but I guess people found an old Instagram post where he said Chiyo was his celebrity crush, so everyone is shipping them.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Zuki mumbled, eyes glued to her wrist.

  Millie tried to think of something else to say. She remembered Zuki had said her parents were divorced, and that she split her time between two different houses. “Are you staying at your dad’s this weekend? Maybe we could facetime and finish the new playlist.”

  Zuki’s fingers stopped moving, but she didn’t say a word.

  When Millie was nervous, her voice had a tendency to squeak. She cleared her throat, just in case. “I was thinking for track five—”

  Zuki sighed and shoved both hands in her lap. “It doesn’t matter about the track. Not when J-Club isn’t working.”

  Millie blinked. “What do you mean?”

  For a moment, Zuki met her gaze, and her eyes darted back and forth like a bumblebee searching for somewhere safe to land. But when she couldn’t find it, she turned away. “It doesn’t matter right now. I’m supposed to be in the counselor’s office in a few minutes anyway, so I have to go.”

  “What for? Are you changing your schedule?” Millie asked, suddenly feeling like she was saying all the wrong things.

  Zuki hesitated before snatching up her bag. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Okay,” Millie said, and watched her friend disappear in the crowd.

  When the bell rang a few minutes later, Millie could barely hear it over the worry ringing through her ears. She wasn’t sure what to do. Friends should be able to talk to each other about anything, but Zuki didn’t seem like she wanted to talk. And if there was a problem with J-Club, shouldn’t they be discussing it together?

  Unless Millie was part of what wasn’t working …

  After sc
hool she waited by the bus stop, but Zuki never showed up.

  * * *

  On Saturday, Millie’s parents took her out for boba tea. It was sort of a family tradition—or maybe less of a tradition and more of a reward for being dragged around town running errands every other week. The tradition part was what they ordered, which was always the same: coconut boba tea, with extra tapioca balls.

  Millie was studying the overhead menu when the cashier smiled at Scott. “What can I get for you today?” he asked politely.

  Scott held up his fingers—he always did that before he’d say a number, like he was trying to limit any confusion. “Three coconut boba teas, please, with extra—”

  “Wait,” Millie cut in shrilly. “I—I want to try the Hokkaido milk tea instead.”

  Scott pulled back his face in surprise. Jane stepped forward and frowned.

  “But,” she said, scanning the menu like she was confused, “we always get coconut. I thought it was our ‘thing.’”

  “I know,” Millie said, cheeks turning pink when she realized the cashier was watching her. “But I just want to try something new.”

  Scott and Jane exchanged a glance, and Millie immediately felt anxious.

  It was already difficult enough to tell her parents how she was feeling on a normal day. But to break one of their family traditions? To change the plan?

  She didn’t want to disappoint them. But if she didn’t say something now, it would be like the roast chicken all over again, and she’d be eating greasy chicken legs for the rest of her life.

  Scott shrugged and faced the cashier. “Okay, three Hokkaido milk teas.” He turned to Millie with a smirk. “With extra tapioca balls?”

  Millie smiled back with relief and gave a series of quick nods.

  The three of them sat at one of the corner tables. When her parents started talking about new tiles for the family bathroom, Millie took the opportunity to check her phone.

  There hadn’t been any texts from Zuki since Thursday—before their rebellious adventure outside Mrs. Devon’s classroom.

  Before Ashley basically said J-Club was pointless.

  Millie didn’t want to go the whole weekend without talking to Zuki, so she tried to think of something to say that had nothing to do with J-Club at all.

  She snapped a quick photo of her drink and sent it to Zuki along with a text: Look what I’m finally trying! You said Hokkaido milk tea was the best, and you were right

  She stared at her phone for a while, waiting for the typing icon to appear. It didn’t.

  “What are you up to over there?” Jane asked, sipping her boba tea.

  Millie shoved her phone into her pocket. “Nothing. Just texting.”

  Scott chased the tapioca balls with his straw, watching as they moved around the bottom of his plastic cup. “Hey, this is pretty good!”

  “Better than coconut?” Jane lifted a brow, teasing.

  Scott laughed. “Nothing is better than coconut. What do you think, Millie?”

  Millie froze. She wasn’t sure if disagreeing would hurt their feelings. She’d already broken tradition; maybe that was enough of a win for one day. “I like them both,” she said finally.

  Her parents smiled and carried on with their conversation about bathroom decor.

  Millie retrieved her phone, drank big gulps of milk tea, and waited for a text that never came.

  * * *

  On Monday, Zuki was back to her old self. Except maybe more her old self than usual. Everything she did seemed to happen in double time. She was like a spinning top that had begun to wobble or bubble gum that had been blown too big. Millie wasn’t sure what would happen if she nudged her the wrong way.

  So she didn’t bring up Ashley, or the weekend, or Zuki’s previous comments about J-Club. Deep down, she hoped maybe they could pretend that none of it had ever happened.

  When Millie walked into the orchestra room on Thursday, Zuki was pacing in front of a row of chairs. Her arms were folded stubbornly over her chest, hiding her rows and rows of rainbow-hued bracelets.

  Millie made it all the way to the center of the room before Zuki looked up. When she did, her eyes rounded and her words burst out of her at full volume.

  “Okay, so I’ve been thinking about what Ashley said—you know, about our club needing a bigger purpose?—and I think they might be right. J-Club needs something bigger to offer. Something more than just sitting around making playlists. I think we need a hook,” Zuki explained quickly. “We’re never going to find more members if we don’t make the club more appealing. I mean, who wants to join a club just to listen to J-Pop for an hour?”

  I’d join a club just to listen to J-Pop for an hour, Millie thought, instantly deflated. She couldn’t help it; she’d only just found something she loved, and now Zuki wanted to change it. Besides, Millie liked making playlists. And what did a hook even mean?

  She’d left Zuki to her thoughts, and now everything was going to be different. Zuki wanted new rules and new members, and maybe even new friends to eat lunch with.

  Panic thundered in Millie’s chest.

  “I think we should start a band,” Zuki said matter-of-factly.

  Millie wasn’t sure she’d heard her right. “A band?”

  Zuki’s smile grew. “We could start an imitation band of Generation Love. We could learn the songs, practice all the dance routines, and perform them as a group. It would be perfect!”

  Millie’s voice cracked. “You mean you’d want me to be in the band, too?”

  Zuki laughed. “Obviously! You’re vice president!”

  “Oh,” Millie said sheepishly. “When you said you wanted to change things, I thought you meant…” She shook her head, feeling silly for getting so worked up over nothing. Maybe Zuki really had just needed some time to mull things over. “I think a band sounds great.”

  “Right? It’s, like, the perfect solution to our problem!” Zuki exclaimed. “So many people are going to want to join J-Club when they find out we’re starting a band. We’ll probably have to hold auditions. You know, to make sure we find the best dancers and singers to fill the other roles.”

  “Roles?” Millie repeated.

  “We should have five main members of the band, to match Generation Love. I’ll be Chiyo Aoki, since I’m president, of course. And you can be Miyuki, if you want!”

  “I’ve never really sung in front of anyone before,” Millie admitted. She could sing in key, but she was hardly solo material. She didn’t want Zuki’s expectations to be too high.

  “Miyuki mostly does backup, so you don’t have to be nervous about singing on your own,” Zuki assured her. “Besides, I’ve heard you humming along to the music videos before. You have a great voice!”

  Millie could almost imagine it: a real band, with people who’d memorized every Generation Love song, who loved their dances and harmonies as much as she did. She thought of the way Chiyo acted with the other members of Generation Love. Like they were part of a family.

  Was that what Millie had to look forward to?

  Millie felt the excitement build in her chest. “How do we tell people about auditions?”

  Zuki’s eyes flashed with euphoria. “Easy. All we need is a really good flyer!”

  * * *

  Colored pencils were scattered all over the cream-colored carpet. Millie was resting on her elbows, eyes focused on the mocked-up flyer beneath her nose. Her first draft was crumpled up somewhere nearby. She’d originally drawn all the members of Generation Love, but realized halfway through the coloring stage that Brightside was full of art majors who’d probably laugh at her amateur character art. It was best to leave the drawing to the professionals.

  The newest draft consisted of big block letters with rainbow-colored hearts along the edges. She’d gotten as far as J-Club Audition when she heard footsteps coming from the hallway.

  Millie pushed herself off the floor and shoved the flyer under a textbook, pulling her band folder in front of her just as her
father opened the door.

  She pretended to be flipping through her sheet music before glancing up at him.

  Scott’s eyes danced from colored pencil to colored pencil. “Wow. It sure is a mess in here.”

  Millie tried not to look guilty, especially when the lie slipped casually from her mouth. “I was working on a school project.”

  “You’re supposed to be practicing your flute,” her dad said gently. He was wearing a collared shirt and khaki pants, which seemed to be all he ever wore. He liked routine; so did her mom. Maybe that was why they wanted Millie to like it, too.

  Did it make them less of a family if she didn’t?

  “I know. I’m going to do that now,” she said, standing up and setting the sheet music on her stand.

  He was still fixated on the colored pencils. “You know, you should really try to be better organized. Our brains work more efficiently when our workplace is clean.”

  Millie didn’t know if that was something he’d googled or something he’d just randomly made up to win an argument. Because it felt like that sometimes—like her parents cared more about sounding right than being right.

  Millie turned away from her dad to shield her annoyance. “I like being able to see all the colors. I’ll clean everything up when I’m finished.”

  He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “Your mom and I were thinking about calling your teachers. Just to make sure you’re doing okay.”

  Millie’s heart was pounding. “I really don’t think that’s necessary, Dad. Progress reports come out soon anyway. I don’t want to be the only kid at school whose parents have to check up on them for no reason. It’s embarrassing.”

  “I’m sure you aren’t the only kid with parents who care about them, Millie,” he said with a careful tone.

  “Well, like I said, progress reports come out soon anyway…” Her voice trailed off and she bit the inside of her cheek to hide how flustered she felt.

  “It’s really important you don’t fall behind. Especially because you have so many new opportunities coming your way with flute. Solo ensemble won’t be far away, and honor band, too,” he said. Millie wished she could clap her hands over her ears just to stop hearing him for a second. “With enough practice, you could get a full scholarship to a university for music. For music! Imagine that—the dream.”