“Nobody took advantage of you, nobody molested you, and you don’t have any repressed memories of your childhood. I’m the child who was hurt, not you. You didn’t believe me, but now I’m supposed to believe that you’re worried something ‘might’ have happened to you, even though you don’t have any reason to think that whatsoever? Why are you trying to diminish the horrible thing that happened to me and make it about you?”
WHAT I ACTUALLY SAY:
Exactly that.
I leave her and her reality TV show and her stupid, stupid made-up problems on the couch, and when I’m miles away from her, blasting Wilco in the car, I shout as loud as I possibly can, “I HATE YOU.”
• • •
I drive to Dad’s. It was never my plan to bring up Uncle Max ever again, but something has changed. There’s a desperation inside me that I want to rip out. I want this horrible thing out of my body and my mind, and I don’t want to touch it anymore.
I tell Dad everything.
I tell him about Uncle Max. I tell him about Mom. I tell him I know the truth about their divorce. I tell him I thought it was my fault.
He’s quiet at first, but when he starts to cry he has to bury his face in his hands to hide from me. I think he feels ashamed, even though I tell him I don’t blame him. When he calms down, he hugs me and says he thinks I’m the strongest person in the world, as strong as a polar bear.
Dad says he didn’t tell me about Mom and Brandon because he didn’t want me and my brothers to take his side. He says he’s not perfect either, and that no one is, really, but that he is trying to do right by the people he cares about.
He tells me he wants me to live with him and Serena and the twins and Shoji. He says we can all be a family.
I don’t want to tell him it’s too late for that, even though that’s how I feel. I don’t want the life I wanted as a child—I want the life in my future. I want art school. I want bills. I want friends. I want to meet people who inspire me. I want to inspire people I meet. I want to live.
Dad goes in the other room to call Mom. I stay downstairs with Serena, Shoji, and my two sisters, who seem to be growing at an impossibly fast rate. Leah is still bald. Emily is still chubby.
• • •
I move in with Dad. He goes with me to help pack up my room when Mom is at work. She left a letter for me on my bed. It’s from Brightwood. I’ve been accepted into their art program.
I know I should be more excited, but it’s hard to be happy when I still don’t know what I’m going to do. California feels like it’s slipping farther and farther away from me. I’m not sure I’m brave enough to go back and do it all over again but this time without Jamie.
I want to be brave. I just don’t know where to start.
• • •
Jamie calls me on my birthday. I don’t answer. He doesn’t leave a voice mail.
I think we might be over.
• • •
I draw a ghost wandering through an airport because she doesn’t know where to go.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Idon’t recognize the number when my phone rings. For a moment I wonder if it’s Jamie. Maybe he’s trying to trick me into talking to him. And for that same moment, I really want it to be him.
I answer, my voice hurried and cracked. “Hello?”
“Hi. Is this Kiko Himura?” A man’s voice, but not Jamie’s.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“This is Dexter Graham from the admissions office at Prism Art School. How are you doing today?”
Oh my God. “I’m God. I mean, good. I’m good. How are you?”
His chuckle is light and disarming. “Great, thanks. I’m calling because we’ve just looked over your application for the fall. Unfortunately, that program is already at max capacity for this semester. However, we were very impressed with your work. Your portfolio is quite stunning. So although we won’t be able to offer you a place this year, I was getting in touch to see if you’d like us to hold your application until next year. We could interview you sometime in the spring, although—and I’m not supposed to say this—the interview is much more of a formality than anything. You’d basically have a place here if you’d like it.” He pauses. “Is that something that would interest you?”
Oh my God. “Yes. Yes, absolutely. Umm. I don’t understand though. I got a rejection from you guys already.”
“Yes, for our painting program.” He pauses. “But you applied again, for drawing? About a month ago? I’ve even got your recommendation letter here from Hiroshi Matsumoto, which was quite impressive.”
“And you’ve seen my portfolio?”
“Yes,” he repeats. “Well, the photographs anyway. We’d expect you to bring your actual portfolio with you to the interview, but the photographs were very well done. We got a good idea of your level of talent.”
My stomach knots. It was Jamie. It must have been. Or maybe Hiroshi and Jamie, but either way, I didn’t take those photographs, and I certainly didn’t apply to Prism for drawing.
“So are you interested in us holding your application?” he asks again.
My heart races. “Yes. Thank you so much. This is amazing.”
He laughs a little louder this time. He must be used to the dizzying excitement on the other end of the phone. “That’s great. Well, I’ve got all your details here in the computer. We’ll be in touch to set up an interview sometime in the spring, but if you have any questions at all, please do give us a call.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“No problem, Kiko. It was nice to speak with you, and we really look forward to meeting you in person.”
The phone clicks.
I collapse onto my bed in a fit of pixie-infused giggles.
• • •
I paint the world in completely different colors because nothing is the same as it was before.
CHAPTER SIXTY
Icall Hiroshi to ask him about Prism. He says it was all Jamie’s idea, and he just made sure to provide him with a copy of his recommendation letter. He also mentions there might have been a phone call as well, again at the request of Jamie.
I don’t deserve how much Jamie loves me. But I want to be in a position where I feel like I finally do.
I ask Hiroshi if the job at the café is still available, and he tells me I can start as soon as I’m back in California.
It doesn’t take me long at all to make up my mind. I’m going to spend a year in California, working in the café, working on my art, and saving up for school. And next year, I’ll move to New York and go to Prism.
It’s not hard to say my good-byes, because I don’t have that many people to say good-bye to. I tell Emery my new plans over the phone, and she tells me she wants to spend spring break on the beach with me. The manager at the bookstore wishes me luck. Dad and Serena get a little tearful and tell me I’ve been the perfect houseguest. Shoji even gives me a hug, which feels weird for both of us. Leah manages to smile at me when I kiss her good-bye, and Emily squeezes my finger and coos.
On my way out of town, I stop at Mom’s. I don’t want to leave without saying good-bye, even if she isn’t the mother I need. I’m not sure when I’ll see her again. Saying good-bye feels like the right thing to do—it’s the last page before a new chapter.
She buys sub sandwiches for lunch and makes an oversized pitcher of sweet tea. She asks about Shoji and the twins like nothing is weird about our arrangement or relationship at all.
Mom has always been good at pretending things are fine when she doesn’t want to apologize.
But I don’t need an apology. Not anymore. I have my whole life ahead of me—there isn’t room in it for anger about things I don’t have the power to change. I’ve mourned the loss of the mother I imagined could exist. I accept the one I have will never be the one I need.
And that’s okay—because I will be the person I need. I will be the one I can depend on, the one who has the power to make my life better or worse.
&n
bsp; I’ll still panic when I’m in a crowd. I’ll still question whether people mean something different from what they say. And I’ll probably always feel my heart thump when I think someone is criticizing me.
But I can live with that.
I accept myself.
Mom tells me to call her when I get to California. She doesn’t hug me good-bye, but she stands in the doorway waving until her house disappears from my rearview mirror.
I don’t drive north or south or east or west. I drive forward.
EPILOGUE
When I hear the bell ring, my heart catches. I set the mug behind the counter, take a deep breath, and turn my face toward the café doors.
Jamie is wearing a thin jacket to protect him from the January chill. His tan has faded, but otherwise he looks exactly the same as he did all those months ago.
Locking his blue eyes on me, he smiles like he has something stuffed in his mouth. Too many words, probably. Too many things that were left unsaid.
Still, it’s a smile.
I pull my apron off and hang it on the wall peg. “Thanks for coming,” I say. Jamie still towers over me, but somehow I feel taller.
He nods, his hands stuffed in his pockets like he doesn’t know what to do with them. “I was wondering if you’d ever call.”
“You knew I was in town?”
“I saw you through the window once.” He shrugs. “Just passing by.”
“I wasn’t ready back then.” My voice isn’t timid—it’s exactly the right amount of volume.
He doesn’t say anything. He just keeps looking at me like he isn’t sure I won’t disappear.
“I want to show you something,” I say.
We walk up the stairs at the side of the building, and I unlock the doors to the studio. When we step inside, I think I’ll have to point out what I want him to see, but I don’t. He sees it. He sees everything.
The right wall of the studio is covered in paintings I’ve done over the last six months. Some of them are hung up on the walls. Some of them are set along the floor because there’s not enough space. Hiroshi says he wants to feature me in his next art show. He says I could sell some of them to help pay for Prism.
And I’d sell all of them. All of them except for one.
The biggest canvas is wider than my arm span. It’s bursting with so much color it looks like a graffiti artist got too excited with a spray can.
But it’s my story, told in brushstrokes and acrylic paint.
There’s Jamie and me as children, hiding in trees and searching for ladybugs. There’s me alone, searching for stars in the dark. There’s my mom, the queen of the starfish, existing in a tornado of glitter that poisons anything else it touches. There are my brothers and me, living on opposite sides of a triangle, experiencing the same things but never together. There’s my dad, never knowing or doing as much as he should but trying to fix the poison all the same. There’s Hiroshi, painting my hands so I can paint my voice. There’s me split in half—Japanese and white—stitching myself together again because I am whole only when I’ve embraced the true beauty of my heritage.
And there’s Jamie and me in June, the sun on our faces and the sand at our feet, finding each other again after all those years. Our lives trail around us, sometimes broken and sometimes beautiful, but all puzzled and tangled up into the lump that is us.
We fit together not because we need each other, but because we choose each other.
Our friendship was always our choice. Love was a natural progression.
Jamie stares at the painting for so long that I think the room actually starts to get darker. When he turns to face me, he looks relieved. Calm.
Jamie turns back to the painting.
We don’t need words. We just know.
Our fingers find each other’s.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
So here I am, writing the acknowledgments, and surreal is the only way to describe this. Seeing Starfish morph into a real book has truly been a dream come true, and it wouldn’t have happened without the help of some truly fantastic people, many of whom I’m lucky enough to call friends.
I owe so much to my incredible agent, Penny Moore of Empire Literary. People use the term “dream agent,” but you are an actual superhero. Thank you for believing in my words all those months ago, and for always fighting in my corner. Your guidance and support means everything to me. I honestly could not ask for a better agent, and I feel like the luckiest person in the world to call myself one of your clients.
To my editor, Jennifer Ung—thank you. A million times over, thank you. I couldn’t imagine a greater champion for this story. You helped shape it into the book it is today, and being able to work with someone who loves this story as passionately as you do has truly been an honor. Starfish is so many pieces of my heart—thank you for handling them with so much love and care.
Thank you to Mara Anastas, Mary Marotta, Liesa Abrams, Carolyn Swerdloff, Nicole Russo, Christina Pecorale, Chelsea Morgan, Sara Berko, and everyone else at Simon Pulse who played a role in making this story a real book. Your time, dedication, and love for Kiko’s journey has made this entire process feel like a dream. And a very special thank you to Sarah Creech, who designed a cover so beautiful and perfect that I still have trouble believing it’s real.
I also owe a big thank you to Christian Trimmer, whose feedback on an early draft of Starfish became the inspiration for Emery.
I am eternally grateful to all the people over the years who were kind enough to beta read for me. Thank you, Nikki and Dylan, for being there at the start; Jennifer G., for your generous enthusiasm; Jamie H., for editing a book of mine in eighth grade and teaching me that a first draft is just the beginning; Ian, for your never-ending support; and Anisaa and Taylor, for being the world’s best critique partners.
To the writing friends I’ve made over the last couple of years, Nicki, Jessica, Michelle, Tabitha, and Lyla—thank you for being so kind and enthusiastic, and for being such an incredible source of comfort throughout this long and often nerve-racking process.
To the readers who followed Kiko’s story to the last page (and then all the way to the acknowledgments—you’re quite thorough!)—thank you for opening your minds and hearts to a book that means so much to me. It means more than you could ever know.
And finally, I want to say thank you to the three people I am lucky enough to call my family. Shaine and Oliver, thank you for being such a beautiful source of joy and love in my life. I hope you two will always know how much I love you, and how honored I am to be your mom. To my husband, Ross—you are the most supportive partner in the world. Thank you for reading terrible first, second, and third drafts, for being a soundboard for all of my story ideas (even the ones that seem to always happen in the middle of the night or during long car journeys), for the hundreds of cups of tea and bags of chocolate (my writing fuel), and for always believing so deeply in my stories. But most of all, thank you for being the family I always dreamed about. I love you times infinity.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Akemi Dawn Bowman is the author of Starfish. She’s a proud Ravenclaw and Star Wars enthusiast, who served in the US Navy for five years and has a BA in social sciences from UNLV. Originally from Las Vegas, Nevada, she currently lives in England with her husband, two children, and their Pekingese mix.
AKEMIDAWNBOWMAN.COM
Visit us at simonandschuster.com/teen
Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/Akemi-Dawn-Bowman
SIMON PULSE
Simon & Schuster, New York
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON PULSE
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New Yor
k 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
First Simon Pulse hardcover edition September 2017
Text copyright © 2017 by Akemi Dawn Bowman
Jacket design and illustration by Sarah Creech copyright © 2017 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Jacket background sky photograph copyright © 2017 by AvigatorPhotographer/Thinkstock
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
SIMON PULSE and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or [email protected].
The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.
Interior designed by Tom Daly
The text of this book was set in Adobe Caslon Pro.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Bowman, Akemi Dawn, author.
Title: Starfish / Akemi Dawn Bowman.
Description: First Simon Pulse hardcover edition. | New York : Simon Pulse, 2017. |
Summary: Kiko Himura yearns to escape the toxic relationship with her mother by getting into her dream art school, but when things do not work out as she hoped Kiko jumps at the opportunity to tour art schools with her childhood friend, learning life-changing truths about herself and her past along the way.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016045829 (print) | LCCN 2017021696 (eBook) | ISBN 9781481487740 (eBook) | ISBN 9781481487726 (hc)
Subjects: | CYAC: Mothers and daughters—Fiction. | Racially mixed people—Fiction. | Family problems—Fiction. | Self-perception—Fiction. | Sexual abuse—Fiction. | Identity—Fiction. | Artists—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.B6873 (eBook) | LCC PZ7.1.B6873 St 2017 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23
Starfish Page 25
