by Jennifer Yen
“If I do that, she’ll bring home some American boy with divorced parents and tattoos everywhere.”
I choke on a sip of water. Why is Mom like this? I show her a picture of Ed Sheeran one time, and now she thinks I’m running off with someone like him. Meanwhile, she’s never said a word about my cousin Diana, who has roses tattooed on her rib cage.
Their footsteps are heading my way, so I grab my dirty dishes and put them in the sink. Mom insists the dishwasher doesn’t do a clean enough job, so we hand wash everything first. I rinse as Dad shovels a few bites in his mouth and packs the leftovers. He brings the other dishes over, and they get washed and carefully stacked in the racks too.
Mom immediately rearranges them. “If you put them like that, they won’t be completely clean. Next time, make sure to do it like this.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from reminding her I’ve already washed them once. Instead, I finish up and have a seat on the living room couch while they head back to their room to watch their favorite Chinese soap opera. I promised Grace I’d call her after dinner, but since my bedroom shares a wall with theirs, I don’t want Mom eavesdropping. She picks up on the third ring.
“Spill the tea, girl.”
I recount the premature end to dinner. Grace bursts out laughing.
“I can’t believe he didn’t even bother showing up!”
“Believe it. This is exactly why I don’t date Asian guys,” I confide in a low voice. “They’re all like this.”
“That’s not true! I’ve dated plenty who are super nice.”
“That’s because you have options, Grace. All the guys want to date you,” I tell her, twirling the hoop on my ear. “So do all the girls. You’re perfect, unlike me.”
“Don’t say that, Liza. You’re gorgeous, smart, and super sweet,” she says firmly. “Guys are just dumb.”
“That’s not what my mom thinks.”
“I’m sorry,” she tells me. “I don’t know why your mom says those things to you. They’re totally not true.”
I shrug even though she can’t see me. “It’s just how she is. I’ve gotten used to it.”
“Do you think she’ll quit setting you up now?”
“I doubt it. She’s harder to shake than Lebron. It’s only a matter of time before she’s at it again.”
“What are you going to do when she does?” Grace asks.
“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. I have to.” I sigh, standing up and heading to the kitchen for a cup of tea. “Change the subject, will you?”
“Okay. Remember Ben from the Korean restaurant?”
“Yeah, why?”
“So, he asked for my number, and we’ve been texting every night this week. Sometimes during the day too.”
She pauses. I hear an intake of breath, but nothing follows.
My hand freezes on my favorite mug. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just . . . I don’t know if he likes me as much as I like him.”
There’s a softness, a tinge of anxiety, in her voice I haven’t heard in a long time. Ever since Eric cheated on her, Grace hasn’t let anyone get close to her. She inevitably breaks things off with whomever she’s dating as soon as she starts to catch major feels.
“Why would you think that?” I finally ask. “You just told me he’s been texting you constantly.”
“I know, but he hasn’t technically asked me out yet. We just talk about random stuff and where our families are from.”
I pour water into the kettle and turn the burner on.
“It sounds like he’s trying to get to know you better.”
She sighs heavily. “But what if he just wants to be friends? I really, really like him, Liza.”
I think back to Tofu City. Ben was getting plenty of attention while we were at dinner, but he spent nearly all his time talking to her.
“Grace, I have yet to meet a living, breathing human who doesn’t have a crush on you.”
“You didn’t,” she teases. “And you’ve been living and breathing around me since sixth grade.”
“I didn’t want to risk our friendship.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re all talk. I’m too good for you anyway,” Grace drawls.
“I’m not going to argue that.”
We both giggle. The kettle starts to whistle, and I pull it off the burner before it wakes Mom and Dad. After pouring the hot water into my mug, I clear my throat.
“Maybe Ben’s just shy. Remember when you thought Christina didn’t like you? Three months later, you guys were dating. Give it some time. He’ll ask you out.”
“You really think so?”
“I’d bet you a summer’s worth of boba,” I assert, steeping the tea leaves. “That’s how sure I am.”
I hear something go off on her end of the phone. She squeals.
“He’s texting me now!”
“See?” I cut her off before she can offer an apology. “Go make him fall in love with you.”
After we hang up, I tiptoe back into my room and grab my laptop before plopping onto my bed. I forgo the overhead light and leave only the delicate fairy strands hanging above my head. They cast a soft, golden glow over the wall of books across from me. Their spines form a rainbow, arranged by genre and author.
I place my laptop on the lap desk and pull up Ashes of Love on Netflix. The Chinese actors talk too fast for me to keep up, so I turn on the English subtitles. It started out kind of slow, but between the gorgeous costumes and epic romance, I’m completely hooked on this C-drama. It doesn’t hurt that Deng Lun and Luo Yunxi are ridiculously hot in period clothes.
Who needs a date when I have them?
Chapter 8
The next night, I pick Grace up from her house and head to Dumpling Dynasty. With tan tile floors and cheap wooden tables, the most impressive part about the place is the framed pieces on the wall from the students attending the Art Institute of Houston.
Scratch that. The food is by far the best thing.
I drop her off at the front door to grab a table while I find a parking space. A few minutes later, I head inside. I’m dressed in my favorite T-shirt, featuring a picture of Stitch cosplaying Toothless. My hair is up in my customary ponytail, though strands have already escaped their binding to graze my jaw.
“Liza! Over here!”
I turn toward her with a ready grin. It freezes on my face when I realize who’s seated across from her in the booth. Dressed in a black-and-white-striped tee and ripped jeans, Ben’s all twinkling eyes and white teeth. James, to his right, swivels his head slightly to give me the once-over. His eyebrows rise slightly as he takes in Stitch in all his winged glory. I can’t tell if he’s impressed or embarrassed to be seen with me, but I’m fairly certain it’s the latter.
I drag myself over and slide in next to Grace. She’s wearing one of her favorite ballet-pink sundresses, with a halter neckline and flouncy skirt.
“You didn’t tell me anyone else was coming,” I mutter under my breath.
“I didn’t?”
She presses a hand to her chest like a Southern belle. I grit my teeth.
You don’t fool me, Grace Chiu. You’re going to pay for this.
“Oh, we didn’t realize we were crashing your dinner,” Ben says with a worried look.
“No!” Grace practically shouts. “I mean . . . you don’t mind, right, Liza?”
Do I mind that you’re forcing me to babysit your crush’s irritating cousin? No, not at all.
I force myself to relax against my chair. “Of course not. The portions here are huge. You’ll be doing us a favor.”
James, who has been wordlessly staring at the menu, regards me intently.
“Have you eaten here before? Is the food any good?”
“It’s great,” Grace answers first. “I love the pan-fried dumplings. Super f
lavorful.”
He glances over at her. “Most people add too much oil. I don’t like greasy dumplings.”
“Then don’t order it,” I deadpan without looking up from my menu.
That earns me a jab in the ribs. Ben snickers. I stretch my lips like Pennywise, and James’s eyes widen slightly.
“What I mean to say is there are many other dishes you can order here.”
He gulps. “What would you recommend?”
I consider another snide retort but think better of it. I turn my menu upside down and point at my favorite dishes.
“If I’m in the mood for dumplings, I order the leek ones. They’re just as good as the ones I’ve had in Taiwan,” I say. “If not, then I get the bean sauce noodles. Theirs is the best I’ve tried other than my Dad’s.”
“That’s right!” Ben glances up at me. “Grace was telling me your family owns Yin and Yang Restaurant and Bakery down the street. I hear it’s really popular.”
“It’s definitely one of the best places to go for Taiwanese food. Not that I’m biased or anything.”
He chuckles. “Even so, I’d love to eat there sometime. What do you think, James?”
I lean forward onto my forearms, issuing a silent challenge.
Go ahead. Say something bad about Dad’s place.
“Don’t worry, Liza,” Ben asserts. “James pretends he’s a food critic, but I saw him eat three-day-old pizza firsthand.”
“That was one time!” he instantly defends, coloring slightly. He turns to Grace and me. “There was a snowstorm in New York, and I would have frozen to death if I went outside.”
I cock an eyebrow. “So it was a matter of life and death, then?”
“If you’re referring to my stomach after eating it, then yes,” he says.
Ben and Grace crack up. Even I let out a laugh, but James remains impassive. Honestly, I’m not sure if he realizes he made a joke.
“Are you kids ready to order?”
We pause our conversation to pick what we want, and our waitress quickly jots down the orders. While we wait, Grace and Ben send looks at each other, while James takes in the casual decor in the restaurant.
“So, Ben, are your parents going to move down with you?” I ask.
Ben averts his gaze, a tense smile on his lips. “Uh . . . they’re not sure yet. My dad is the CEO of Eastern Sun Bank. They do have a branch here, but he travels a lot for work. We’re staying with my mom’s family in River Oaks for now.”
If Mom were here, she’d have his birthday, blood type, and favorite foods in less than five minutes flat. Since it’s just me, I leave it at that.
“Does that mean you’ll be in town all summer?” Grace asks, her eyes wide and hopeful.
“Probably. We might go up to the Hamptons at some point.”
The staff interrupts to drop off the pan-fried and cabbage dumplings. Both guys eye Grace’s plate with interest.
“You’re welcome to try some,” she offers. “I can’t eat them all myself.”
Ben’s answering smile sets even my heart aflutter. He plucks a pot sticker off the plate and dips it into a small pool of soy sauce.
“This is so good,” Ben says around the bite in his mouth. “James, you’ve got to try this.”
James pops one in his mouth. “Not bad.”
This is probably high praise from someone like him. Our two orders of leek dumplings arrive shortly after, and I dig in right away. My eyes meet James’s briefly, and a small smile touches his lips. I chide myself for noticing his dimple while Grace makes another attempt at conversation.
“So James, how are you liking it in Houston?”
He glances out the window before answering. “It’s okay. The traffic reminds me of New York.”
“Maybe Liza and I can show you guys around one of these days.”
He and I shift uncomfortably in our seats. Ben, on the other hand, is thrilled.
“I’d love that! We’ve been so busy with our families it’s been tough to figure out where everything is. Houston is so spread out.”
Once we finish our meals, I turn to Ben. “Okay, we’re paying this time. Just like we agreed.”
He grins. “Too late. I already paid.”
I swallow a groan. I should have known he didn’t really have to go to the bathroom a few minutes ago. Classic distraction technique. Undeterred, I slide the money across the table at him.
He shakes his head adamantly. “No, I won’t take it.”
“Ben, come on. I don’t feel right about this. We’re just friends having dinner.”
“Well, maybe I’m hoping things will change soon,” he says, glancing at Grace.
She blinks furiously, color rising up her neck. Ever unobservant, James interrupts the moment.
“We should get going, Ben. My mom’s waiting on us to help her set up the computers.”
“Is it that time already?” He glances down at his watch. “Oh, wow. Time flies.”
“Speaking of which”—Grace turns to me—“can you give me a ride home?”
We walk out to the parking lot as a group. It’s only May, but the air is already balmy. Fluorescent streetlamps spotlight the flock of midnight-colored crows perched on the roofs of nearly every car. They scatter as we walk toward where we’re parked but protest our intrusion with harsh cries.
Since it’s clear Grace and Ben want some time alone, I’m stuck distracting James. She’s going to owe me her firstborn at this rate.
“Uh, so . . . will you be here long?” I ask.
The soles of James’s black leather oxfords scrape on the gravel as he pivots to face me. He fiddles with the buttons on the sleeve of his steel-blue shirt.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I know Ben mentioned college, but you’re just working for your dad’s firm, right?”
“Yes.”
I take a deep breath and exhale. “Then . . . you’re just visiting?”
“No.”
My hands fist at my sides. Could he make this any more difficult?
“You’re just a fountain of information, aren’t you?”
He jerks back. “I’m sorry?”
“Never mind.”
“Our grandparents live in Sugar Land,” James suddenly blurts out. “And like Ben said earlier, I’m working with my dad’s firm, but I might stay for college. Rice offered me a full scholarship.”
“That’s where I’m going,” I say, ignoring the familiar pang in my chest when I think about my future plans—the ones Mom and Dad chose for me. “I would have guessed you’d be going somewhere Ivy League.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, rocking back on my heels. “You just seem like the type who’d care about that sort of thing.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize.”
Was that a tiny hint of hurt in his voice? My eyes skim over James’s features but find no clues.
“It was nice having dinner with you guys,” I force out.
“Really?” He blinks. “I kind of thought you hated it.”
You weren’t supposed to notice, damn it.
Guilt gnaws at my stomach, so I soften my tone.
“Really. I hope you liked the food.”
He slides his hands into his pockets. “Surprisingly, I did. The leek dumplings do remind me of the ones from Taiwan. Thanks for the recommendation.”
“Uh, you’re welcome?”
James smiles faintly. I glance over at Grace, but she’s busy giggling at something Ben said.
Think, Liza. What else can you talk about?
“My parents go back to Taiwan every year,” I finally say. “To find new recipes for Yin and Yang.”
“Do you go with them?” he asks.
I shake my head. “They normally go during the school yea
r because flights are cheaper. Last year, they went on a tour of Japan too. I wish I could have gone with them then.”
“Japan is one of my favorite places to visit,” James tells me. “Especially during the cherry blossom festival. Ben and I went to Yoshino to see them last year. There’s a whole mountain of sakura trees there.”
My eyes flutter closed as I try to imagine it. “I bet it’s beautiful.”
“It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ll ever see,” he agrees. “You should definitely go if you get the chance.”
“Meanwhile, all my parents got me was was a lousy T-shirt.”
For a second, he just stares at me. Then he does something completely unexpected.
He laughs.
The sound is foreign to my ears, but I find myself smiling even as I wonder what to make of this side of him. Thankfully, I don’t have to figure it out, because Ben and Grace finally make their way back to us. Their hands are joined, and they’re wearing identical sappy grins. James, on the other hand, scowls. So much for civility.
“I’m sorry I have to go.” Ben apologizes more to Grace than me. “We’ll have to get together again soon.”
“Yes, let’s do that! Right, Liza?”
Her eyes plead with me to agree. I take a deep breath and smile.
“Sure.”
“Then it’s all settled,” Ben says brightly. “We’ll figure out a time.”
We say our goodbyes and split up to head to our respective cars. After I start the engine, Grace turns to me with a devilish smirk.
“So . . . you and James, huh?”
“Excuse me?”
She pokes me in the arm. “I saw the way he was looking at you. He likes you.”
“Um, no. You need to get your eyes checked, Grace.”
“Why would you say that?”
“For one, the guy could barely stand talking to me, and the feeling’s mutual,” I say, eyes on Ben’s car as it leaves the parking lot.
Grace frowns. “Do you really not like him? He kind of reminds me of Darcy, with that whole awkward silent thing he does.”
“I’m offended on Darcy’s behalf that you would even say that,” I answer. “James is nothing like him.”
Grace tips her head toward me. “Okay, fine, but you have to admit, he’s total bae material.”
