Just Be Cool, Jenna Sakai

by Debbi Michiko Florence

  I’d wanted to ask those questions, but I hadn’t meant to ask them now. Not like that. So I tried something more neutral. “What other things do you like to draw?”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Rin said, his voice flatter than usual.

  “Yeah?”

  “We’ll share the booth like before. No talking about personal stuff. No prying, no sharing, no questions. Okay?”

  I blinked. That would have been the ideal situation when he’d first stolen my booth. No involvement, no conversation. But now? Now I wanted to know things.

  Rin’s hands were still and empty as he waited for my answer. They looked odd without a pen or pencil. I knew if I didn’t agree that this would be it. He wouldn’t show up here anymore.

  And I’d miss … whatever this was.

  Suddenly, I realized I wasn’t here to get information from him for my article. I mean, yeah, I still hoped I could find the right facts I needed. But if I was being completely honest, I wanted to share this booth with Rin.

  I took in the hard look on his face, the light missing from his eyes. He’d still show up here. But he didn’t want us to be friends anymore. I could deal with that as long as I could see him.

  I nodded and said, “Okay.”

  Monday at the diner had been a little awkward, but we quickly fell back into our routine—comfortable silence sprinkled with occasional comments, but never anything personal. By Friday, I realized that I might have to accept that Rin and I weren’t talking enough for me to get the information I needed to write my article. At least not in time for the deadline that was coming up in two weeks. Applying for the scholarship with a mediocre article I wasn’t passionate about wasn’t worth it. The thought of Elliot winning, and then gloating, set my teeth on edge.

  But I could still beat him out for editor in chief of the digital paper next year. And if Ms. Fontes decided on no editor in chief, I at least wanted to be a news or feature editor. I sighed. I’d have to turn something in to show I deserved it. I guessed writing the article highlighting the good things the donation had done for the school wasn’t the worst thing in the world. But it wasn’t going to win any contests. This whole situation stunk.

  I watched Rin draw. At least he hadn’t put up the textbook wall today. His long, tapered fingers gripped his pen as he moved it in sure strokes across the page. He was drawing a new manga character, and his glasses had slipped down to the tip of his nose. I waited. And as he always did, he pushed them back onto the bridge of his nose with his drawing hand. He never accidentally marked his face with his pen, even though he’d come close a few times. His hair fell across his forehead. It had gotten longer lately. Or maybe he’d stopped using so much product.

  Suddenly, my phone rang. Both Rin and I jumped. I grabbed it and smiled when I saw who was calling.

  “Dad! Hey, what’s up?” I leaned back against the booth.

  “Hey, kiddo! Where are you right now?”

  “That diner I told you about. Why?”

  “It’s on Beach, right? I’m on my way.”

  “Wait.” I bolted up. “You’re here? In Pacific Vista?”

  “Yep! Sit tight!”

  I glanced at Rin, who had stopped drawing and was obviously listening to my end of the conversation.

  “Dad, wait. I can meet you somewhere else. At school or even at my house.”

  “Nah, I’m almost there. See you in a minute!”

  I ended the call and started packing my things.

  “Your dad is coming to pick you up?”

  I tossed my newspaper club notebook into my bag. Today, I’d doodled a lot.

  “Does your dad not live with you?” Rin asked.

  “Why would you assume that?” I scooped up my pens and dumped them into my pen case, but one of them rolled off the table and under the booth. I leaned down to snatch it up and then knocked my head against the table.

  “Are you okay?” Rin asked. When I nodded, he continued. “You asked him if he was in Pacific Vista. And then you said you could meet him at your house, not the house.”

  Gah! Rin would probably make a better reporter than me. “I thought we had an agreement,” I said as I scooted out of the booth, leaving money on the table for my bill. “No personal questions.”

  Rin tossed cash down, too, and grabbed his things.

  “Why are you following me?” I asked as I waved goodbye to Leigh.

  “I’m not. I’m leaving.”

  “Okay, then. Have a good weekend.” I sat down on the vinyl bench at the door, relieved that Rin would be leaving first.

  But no. Rin sat down next to me. “What are you doing?”

  He grinned. “Sitting.”

  He was so annoying! “Why?”

  “I think that’s a personal question.”

  “You are not meeting my dad.”

  “Who said I wanted to meet your dad? Besides, you met Tate. In fact, you forced your way into the car.” Rin’s voice had a teasing note I’d never heard before. I wasn’t sure I liked it. In fact, I was sure I didn’t like it!

  “Tate isn’t your dad,” I said.

  Rin shrugged. “I see him more than I see either of my parents, so he might as well be.”

  “Oh?” I turned to him. “Why is that?”

  Rin’s face closed.

  “See? You don’t like talking about your family, either.”

  “I didn’t ask you to talk about your family.” Rin leaned back, stretching his legs out like he was going to be there for the long haul.

  Fine! I stood up and left the diner. I’d wait outside. When Rin stepped out next to me, Tate, who was parked across the street, started the car, made a very illegal U-turn, and pulled up in front of us.

  “See ya,” I said.

  Rin walked over to the Lexus. I relaxed. He would be long gone before Dad showed up. Rin tossed his backpack into the car, said something to Tate, who nodded, and then returned to stand next to me.

  I ignored Rin. The more I made a big deal out of this, the more he seemed to get a kick out of tormenting me.

  A few minutes later, I was surprised when Dad pulled up in a car that looked exactly like his blue BMW. Except it couldn’t be since it was back in Texas.

  “Nice wheels,” Rin said.

  “Shut up,” I said. “It’s a rental.”

  But when Dad parked in front of us, I saw it was his car. I could tell by the tiny dent on the passenger side door from the time I’d accidentally bumped it with a shopping cart. Dad had been upset at first, but he said he knew it was an accident and told me to forget about it. Except I hadn’t been able to because on the drive home Mom accused Dad of caring about the car more than he cared about me and they’d yelled at each other all the way home. In the end, I realized the fight had nothing to do with me or the dent, but it had still made me feel terrible.

  As Dad shut off the engine, I was already reaching for the passenger door. Rin was faster and opened it for me. I gave him a death glare, but he ignored me and leaned down to look at my dad.

  “Hi,” he said. “I’m Rin.”

  Dad smiled. “Hello, Rin! Always happy to meet one of Jenna’s friends.”

  My friend? That was a laugh. Friends talked to each other. About themselves and what was going on in their lives. Friends really knew each other!

  “Do you need a ride?” Dad asked.

  “No, he doesn’t,” I said, shoving Rin out of the way and getting in the car. “Goodbye.” I yanked the door from his grip and closed it. He saluted before sauntering over to the Lexus.

  “That wasn’t very nice, Jenna,” Dad said with a frown.

  “Let’s just go.”

  Dad raised his eyebrows at me. He started the car and pulled out into the street. I glanced back a few times to make sure Rin wasn’t following us. This wasn’t a spy movie. It was real life. My real life. I relaxed when the Lexus turned right at the first corner.

  I faced Dad. “This is your car.”

  He smiled. “Yes, it is.”
r />   “Why do you have your car here?”

  He laughed. A full-on Dad laugh.

  “Dad!”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you, but give me a few minutes.”

  Fine. I’d play his game and wait him out.

  Ten minutes later, we drove to a fancy condo complex halfway between the beach and school. Dad hit a button on his visor, and the metal gate in front of a parking garage rumbled open.

  “What’s going on?” I asked warily.

  He pulled into a spot marked B-345 and got out of the car. I followed him through the garage to an elevator. My heart pounded as I added up the clues.

  Dad and I rode up to the top floor, where an outdoor walkway overlooked the street. The sun beat down on my bare neck and sweat trickled down my back as Dad took out a set of keys and unlocked the door to B-345.

  “Welcome home, kid.”

  I stepped into the foyer and looked around. The living room was bright with natural light streaming in from the big picture window that reflected on the white ceramic tile. In the distance, I could see a sliver of ocean. The faint hum of an air conditioner harmonized with the sounds of traffic outside.

  Dad slipped off his shoes, and I did the same. Then he took my arm and tugged me into the living room. The couch and reading chair were dark brown leather, and sat next to a glass-topped coffee table and a wrought-iron standing lamp. Unlike his apartment in Texas, which was filled with ugly rental furniture, this room looked very much like Dad.

  “What do you mean ‘home’?” I asked.

  “I’ve moved back!”

  I blinked, looking around at the condo again. “Why didn’t you tell me? What happened to your job in Texas? When did you get back? How long have you been here?” It had to have been long enough to find a place to live and furnish it. My voice squeaked higher with each question.

  Dad’s smile lost a few watts. “I wanted to surprise you. Is this not a happy surprise?”

  “It’s great, seriously. I’m definitely surprised.” I took a breath. “Does Mom know?”

  “She does.”

  I ran my hand along the buttery-soft leather of the couch. “How long will you be around?”

  “I have no intention of leaving. I bought this condo.” Dad sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to him. “I saw it a few months ago, and as soon as I knew for sure I was moving back, I was able to make a fast purchase.”

  “I don’t understand. You were looking for a place here, but you didn’t tell me?”

  “Nothing was for sure, Jenna.” Dad ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “I made a mistake.”

  Those were words I never thought I’d hear coming from Dad, or Mom for that matter.

  “I thought the job in Texas would make me happy. It was a promotion, more money, and a new adventure.”

  I remembered overhearing those exact words just before he and Mom split up. Mom hadn’t wanted to move. She’d also gotten a promotion at the accounting firm. In the end, Mom stayed, Dad left, and I had no say in any of it.

  Dad leaned back against the couch. “The job wasn’t nearly as interesting as I had hoped, and it turned out not to be an adventure, especially because I was alone. I missed you, kid.”

  I nodded. I didn’t trust my voice, and my nose got sniffly.

  “Anyway, I’ve been looking for something back in this area since before Thanksgiving. I got a job offer in January and accepted it. I was here last week to close on this condo.” Dad smiled. “I went back to Texas to get my car and came back last weekend. New job started this week.”

  He’d been thinking about this since Thanksgiving? I’d spent all of Christmas break with him, and he hadn’t said a word. And he’d moved back last weekend? Dad had been here for a whole week already and hadn’t told me! I pressed my fists against my legs. I still hadn’t talked to Mom about what Dad said about paying for college. All three of us kept everything locked inside. Why? Why didn’t we talk about things that mattered?

  When I didn’t say anything, Dad cleared his throat and stood. “Let me give you the tour.”

  I followed him into a galley kitchen that shared a nook with a small two-person table. From there we headed back through the living room down a short hall. My socks slid on the hardwood floors. There was a decent-size bathroom on the right. And he’d picked a king-size bed and plain dark blue comforter for the bedroom at the end of the hall.

  Dad nudged me toward the other door in the hall, most likely his office. It was a small room with only one window, but the best view—the same sliver of sea as the living room. And it was totally empty.

  “This is your room, Jenna. We can go shopping for furniture and stuff.”

  “What?” I turned to Dad.

  “This is your bedroom. I talked to your mom, and you can spend as much time here as you’d like. We can be a family again.”

  The dam burst. “A family?” I said, my voice rising as the words flooded out of my mouth. “How can we be a family again? You and Mom are divorced! I have to split my time between two homes! How is that even close to being a family?”

  “Jenna,” Dad said, but I cut him off before he started spouting excuses.

  “No! It’s my turn!” I paced in circles around the room. “You and Mom made all these decisions that affected me and not once did either of you ask me what I wanted or what I thought! Not only that, but you never told me what was going on. Just like now! You make a decision that totally affects me, dump it on me, and expect me to be happy. Neither of you talk to me about anything important!”

  Dad looked miserable. His whole body sagged, and he looked older than I’d ever seen him. But I didn’t feel like cutting him a break. Not when he got everything he wanted, whenever he wanted! Like Mom said, money is power and Dad had plenty of it. Okay, so she hadn’t said that to me, but I’d heard her on the phone. And now he thought a new bedroom was going to make me forgive all the secrets he’d been keeping?

  “All you care about is money. You already make a lot, but you look for jobs that’ll make you more. You spend it on things like fancy cars and”—I waved my hand around the condo—“fancy apartments with expensive furniture because you think those things will make you happy. But they won’t. Money isn’t more important than me!”

  Dad’s eyes were now wide in shock.

  “You left me!” I yelled. “You left! You left!” I started sobbing and sank down onto the hard cold floor.

  I expected Dad to get all uncomfortable and leave the room. To “give me space.” Instead, I felt his arms wrap around me tightly. I cried into his shoulder like I was four years old and had skinned my knee.

  Except this time it was my heart that had peeled wide open.

  After my tears had dried, I pulled away and scooted back against the wall, swiping my sleeve against my snotty nose and rubbing my eyes on my shoulder. Dad left the room and returned with a roll of toilet paper for me. I ripped off a long piece and blew my nose.

  Dad sat down across from me. “Well,” he said, his voice a little shaky. “I don’t know what to say. Except I’m sorry. I don’t think either your mother or I realized how much all this affected you.” He blew out a big breath. “I mean, of course, it affected you.”

  I sighed.

  “I’m not very good at talking about things,” Dad said, looking down at the floor. “I think that was probably part of the problem between your mom and me. Neither of us were good at expressing our true feelings. Resentments build when you can’t talk about what’s bothering you.”

  That was for sure. I clutched the roll of toilet paper to my chest, still trembling from my unexpected outburst.

  “I get that you felt out of the loop,” Dad continued, “but the decisions we fought over were between your mom and me. They had nothing to do with you. You were never the problem.” He shook his head when he caught my look.

  “The thing you say about money is only partly true. Yes, I make good money and I like the comfort it brings me. Us. That mo
ney pays for your lifestyle, Jenna, whether or not you appreciate it. The nice home, your clothes, all the books, and a generous allowance that lets you do things with your friends. It’s also going to pay for your college education. You can study whatever you want. So, let me be clear, yes, money is nice, but I would never choose it over you.

  “I didn’t leave you, Jenna. I know it felt like it, but I didn’t. You were always on my mind. And you are the reason I came back. You are the only reason I came back.”

  I wanted to believe him. To believe he was back for good. At the same time, I didn’t trust that things would be different. Mom was still Mom. Dad was still Dad. I’d been angry with both of them, but I realized that while I’d been frustrated with Mom for being so mean about Dad and refusing to talk to me about him, I mostly blamed Dad for the divorce. I’d felt completely abandoned. I gave Mom more of a break because he’d left her, too. She’d stayed.

  But Mom was just as much to blame. She’d pushed Dad away and refused help because somehow she saw it as a weakness. She was stubborn and proud. Guess I knew where I got that from.

  “Jenna, here.” Dad came over to me and ripped off more toilet paper. I hadn’t realized I’d started crying again.

  “Keeping things from you didn’t help,” Dad said. “I see now that I wasn’t protecting you; I was protecting myself. That was selfish. I’m sorry.”

  I nodded. In the silence that followed, I wondered if I would ever be able to talk like this with Mom. She was even harder to talk to than Dad.

  I was ready for this conversation to be over. I glanced around the small room, trying to absorb that this would be mine. “Mom’s okay with this? With me spending time here?” I couldn’t believe they could have a civil conversation about anything, much less this.

  Dad sighed quietly. “We’re working it out. However much time you want to spend here, or not, is fine with both of us. Your mom would like you to create some sort of schedule so we know where you are and when, but there’s no rush. We can play it by ear for now.”

  “Okay.”