Made in Korea

by Sarah Suk

  She cleared her throat and passed the mic to Charlie. “Did you want to add anything?”

  “V&C forever, baby!” he shouted into the mic.

  The audience burst into laughter and then thunderous applause. I felt a swell of pride, clapping until my palms tingled. She and Charlie deserved this so much. I could tell by the look on all the other business owners’ faces that they thought so too.

  As we made our way off the stage, a crowd of people immediately rushed around Valerie and Charlie. Their family. Her face was flushed with joy as she showed her trophy to her parents, her halmeoni beaming with pride. I hung back, giving her space with her family. This was her moment.

  Then, from across the auditorium, I spotted them. Mom and Dad standing shoulder to shoulder by the back door like they had just come in. At first I wasn’t sure if it was really them. I wiped my glasses on my shirt and put them back on, my trophy tucked awkwardly under my arm.

  It was.

  “You came,” I said, walking toward them. “Did you, um, just get here?”

  “No,” Dad said. “We’ve been here since the beginning, but there were no more seats.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, not quite looking at me. “It’s a full house.”

  “It is,” I said. Silence stretched between us. “Did you catch my performance?”

  Mom nodded. “Wes.” She squeezed my shoulder. “Your solo was… It was beautiful.”

  Hope rose in my chest like a music note set free. “Really?”

  “Really. I can’t believe I’ve never heard you play like that before.” She looked down at the floor and then back up at me, her face a mix of emotions. “I suppose we’ve never been able to make it out to any of your shows in the past.”

  “Well. Thanks for making it out today,” I said, my voice threatening to break. I cleared my throat and glanced at Dad, who still wasn’t looking directly at me.

  He was still disappointed. I could tell. My shoulders drooped, deflated.

  “Wes,” he said finally, looking at me steadily. I held my breath. “I’m glad I got to see you play. Thank you for inviting me.” He cleared his throat. “I took a video and sent it to your uncle. I thought he’d like to see it.”

  My heart swelled. “You’re welcome,” I said. “And thank you.”

  It wasn’t full acceptance yet, but today they’d shown up. They’d seen what I could do.

  And maybe that was enough to give me hope for tomorrow.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE VALERIE

  Wednesday / July 15

  “Halmeoni, hurry up! Paris isn’t going to wait forever.”

  “Aigoo, arasseo, arasseo. Okay, okay. Always in a hurry, Valerie!”

  I grinned as Halmeoni walked down the stairs, Umma supporting her on one side, her new walking cane supporting her on the other.

  “Wait, Halmeoni, one last thing.” I pulled out a purple beret from my tote bag and arranged it carefully on top of her perm. It matched the blue one on my own head. “Jjajan!”

  “Ooh.” Halmeoni examined her reflection in the TV screen, patting her beret. “Now I really feel like I’m in Paris.”

  Because of Halmeoni’s condition, traveling to Paris didn’t make much sense anymore. I suppose it never had, but now I really knew it. It would be too hard on her body, not to mention unpredictable. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t bring Paris to her.

  As soon as summer break had started, we’d begun our local Parisian travels. Samantha and I took her to a café on the other side of town that served the best macarons and the most buttery croissants. I printed out high-quality photos of famous paintings in the Louvre and hung them all around our house, creating our very own museum, complete with the Mona Lisa—with none of the crowds. And today we had some very special dinner reservations.

  “Have fun, you two,” Umma said, dropping us off in front of L’Éléphant, a restaurant in the heart of downtown. “And don’t exert yourself too much,” she added, waving at Halmeoni. “And make sure to get a comfortable seat!”

  After Halmeoni’s diagnosis, Umma got more flexible about letting her go outside, though her permission often came with a list of cautionary things to keep in mind. We didn’t know how much time Halmeoni had left before it became difficult for her to walk at all. It could be months or years. We hoped it would be the latter, but we wanted to make the most of every day we had.

  As for me and Umma, we still hadn’t talked about everything I’d said that one night in the kitchen. I suspected that was how it would be for a long time. But she had made my favorite foods more than ever since that talk. I didn’t know if things would ever really change with how she saw me, but for now the extra doenjang jjigae was nice, as were the plates of cut-up fruit that appeared on my desk. I think it was a sign that, at the very least, she had heard what I had to say.

  The hostess seated us at an outdoor table in the courtyard, where wisteria vines hung from the red brick walls and the glass ceiling was strung with crisscrossing white lights.

  “Would you like some drinks, ladies?”

  Our waiter appeared at the table. He was tall and handsome with his hipster, not-fake glasses crooked on his nose. I reached up to adjust them and he blushed, smiling.

  “Thanks,” Wes said. He turned to Halmeoni and bowed. “Annyeonghaseyo, Halmeoni.”

  She grinned, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Hello, handsome Wes.”

  His blush grew deeper and I laughed. Wes had joined us for a couple of our Paris adventures, and Halmeoni was totally smitten with him. He’d snagged a job at L’Éléphant right after graduation. After much thought, he’d decided to delay his music school acceptance and take a year off to save up for tuition. “They said I’m welcome to join them next fall,” he’d said. “This way I can save some money, and who knows? Maybe my parents will even warm up to the idea by next year.”

  “When does your shift end?” I asked now.

  “In ten minutes,” Wes said. “But then I play for an hour. You’ll stick around for a bit, right?”

  I nodded. “Of course. That’s why we came tonight.”

  Halmeoni and I surveyed the menus. We ordered a duck confit and French onion soup to share. When no one was looking, Halmeoni pulled her travel-sized gochujang out of her purse. “For the duck,” she said.

  We ate until our bellies were full, talking about everything under the sun. We talked about my shopping list before starting college in the fall; how Charlie was going to take a year off to travel now that his dad was back home to keep his mom company; how Pauline had sent us postcards from her trip to Jeju Island with her dad. We even talked about Taemin and how he’d somehow managed to avoid working at his dad’s church this summer by finally snagging a volunteer role at the aquarium instead. He was officially the magician for special events, and, much to Pauline’s delight, he had to dress up as a dolphin for every shift.

  Just as we were perusing the dessert menu, the live band began their set. This was my favorite thing about L’Éléphant: how they had live music in the courtyard for dinner. Well, more like my second favorite thing. My first favorite thing was definitely the saxophonist in the band.

  It was one of the best parts about Wes getting a job here. He split his time between working as a waiter and playing live music along with a pianist, bass player, and drummer. Halmeoni and I leaned back in our seats, soaking in the moment. Chocolate soufflé and jazz were a great combo.

  “No hurry at all, but here’s your check, ladies,” our new waiter said, arriving with our bill. “And also, your previous waiter asked me to give you this.”

  I glanced down at the check. On top of the bill were two pineapple Hi-Chews.

  “What does the pineapple one mean, Valerie?” Halmeoni asked.

  I caught Wes’s eye and winked. His mouth curled into a grin around his saxophone, and he winked back, cheeks pink.

  I popped the pineapple Hi-Chew into my mouth. “It means that everything is just as it should be,” I said.

  And everything was.


  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A few years ago, I thought to myself, I want to write a book about teens who sell K-beauty products at school. I didn’t know at the time what else they would get up to—that they would fall in love, fight for their dreams, and struggle to feel seen by their families. It’s been a journey discovering Valerie and Wes’s story and there are so many people who walked alongside me through the process. My heart is full of gratitude for these people, so much so that I’m not sure I have the words to properly express my feelings, but here we go! Let me give it my best shot.

  Thank you to my editor, Jennifer Ung. I feel like I won the lottery having you as my editor. Working on this book with you has been one of the best experiences of my life and that is by no means an exaggeration. From the beginning, you just got it—the story, the characters, what I wanted to say. Not only did you get it, but you also made the book stronger and deeper with each edit letter. YOU ARE AMAZING! All caps because I want you to imagine me shouting it from a rooftop.

  To my agent, Linda Epstein. Where to even begin? You are my champion, my advocate, my literary fairy godmother. The real-life human version of a strawberry Hi-Chew, always there to calm me down when I need it. Thank you for pulling me out of the slush pile and for believing in my words. I will never not be grateful for you and the magical library where I always seem to be for your life-changing calls.

  When I first saw the cover for this book, I immediately fell in love with the colors and the character details (the treble clef! Valerie’s necklace!). Thank you to Sarah Creech for the cover design and to Anne Pomel for the art. I love what you created.

  All my gratitude to the team at Simon & Schuster BFYR for championing Made in Korea, including Justin Chanda, Kendra Levin, Dainese Santos, Morgan York, Karen Sherman, Tom Daly, Sara Berko, Lauren Hoffman, Chrissy Noh, Lisa Moraleda, Christina Pecorale, Victor Iannone, Emily Hutton, Michelle Leo, and Anna Jarzab.

  Sending my deepest appreciation to all the librarians, booksellers, and bloggers who have supported this book. Thank you for all that you do!

  Thi Tran, thank you for the coffee dates and brainstorm sessions, and for being the first person to read the earliest drafts of chapter one. Getting started can often feel like half the battle and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.

  Many thanks to Jane Cho for meeting with me to talk about the experience of being a third-culture kid. I appreciate you so much!

  At times, publishing can feel like Wonderland, especially as a debut author. That is to say, a strange new world that’s at once exciting, magical, confusing, and full of uncertainty as to what’s coming next. Thank you to Kat Cho, Nafiza Azad, and Rachel Lynn Solomon for your guidance through it all. Your advice, humor, and friendship have been grounding.

  In the summer of 2019, I went to Ireland for a writing retreat/tour where I met Julie Dao and Thao Le. Thank you to you both for your valuable insights and for all your encouragement. You have no idea how much you impacted my writing journey and the trajectory of this book!

  To my friend Julie Abe. Or should I say fellow pizza lover, French-fry fiend, and professional croissant-eater? Your endless support has been such a balm for my soul. Let’s meet in Japan one day and visit all the melon pan stalls.

  Kaya Tomash, you are a light in the world and in my life! I always feel so inspired and refreshed after our talks. Thank you for cheering me on and for celebrating every step of this journey with me.

  To the Kimchingoos—Jessica Kim, Susan Lee, Grace Shim, and Graci Kim—where would I be without you? Thank you for the bellyaching laughs and for being there through all the daily ups and downs. P.S.: it’s ddeok.

  To Sarah Harrington, Carly Whetter, and Grace Li. You are my safe haven. My critique partners before I even knew what critique partners were. Because of you, I have never felt lonely on this pursuit of publication, and I am so excited for my debut novel to meet its godmothers.

  Farisia Thang, thank you for taking my headshots, reading the first draft of this book, and obsessing over K-dramas with me. Sometimes Sue O will catch a glimpse of the literal essays we send each other through iMessage and wonder how we have so much to talk about. I’m nearing the end of these acknowledgments, so… *gets ready to play song from Goblin*. You know which one.

  Shout-out to Frances Lu, Enoch Choi, and Paul Choe, a.k.a. Sony Samsung, Vance Blundstone, and DM. (That’s right, I just immortalized your D&D characters in print. Oh, and can’t forget to include Sue O’s character, BBG.) Thanks for all your support in my writing projects and for the impromptu brainstorm sessions. I hope by the time you read this, we have plans to go to Hawaii. XOXO, Gnocchi Gnomington.

  To my family—아빠, 엄마, 언니, John, 오빠, and 세연언니. I am who I am because of you. Thank you for everything, and by that, I really do mean everything. Your support means the world to me. I love you more than we love the strawberry-mango mousse cake from Anna’s. And to Emory. My joy and my style icon. When you’re old enough to read this book, I hope you still think I’m fun and cool, and that you will always want to paint unicorn rocks with me.

  Sue O Lee. You have listened to me talk about fictional people for way longer than anyone should, but I hope you know this is just the beginning. You have a lifetime ahead of listening to me talk about imaginary things. I hope you’re excited! You are my person and my tether to the present. *Insert Kakao sticker here of Ryan pouring out hearts from a basket* I love you.

  Lastly, to you, reader. It is wild to me that somewhere in the world, you’re out there reading these words that I wrote. Thank you for picking up this book. Thank you, thank you, and thank you again.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Author photograph © 2021 by Farisia Thang

  SARAH SUK (pronounced like “soup” with a K) lives in Vancouver, Canada, where she writes stories and admires mountains. When she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the water, taking film photos, or eating a bowl of bingsu. Made in Korea is her first novel. You can visit Sarah online at sarahsuk.com and on Twitter and Instagram @sarahaelisuk.

  Visit us at simonandschuster.com/teen

  www.SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/Sarah-Suk

  Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

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  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.

  Text © 2021 by Sarah Suk

  Jacket illustration © 2021 by Anne Pomel

  Jacket design by Sarah Creech © 2021 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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  Interior design by Tom Daly

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Suk, Sarah, author.

  Title: Made in Korea / Sarah Suk.

  Description: First edition. | New York : Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, [2021] | Audience: Ages 12 up. | Audience: Grades 7-9. | Summary: “Two entrepreneurial Korean-American teens butt heads-and fall in love-while running competing Korean beauty businesses at their high school”—Provided by publisher.r />
  Identifiers: LCCN 2020038934 (print) | LCCN 2020038935 (ebook)

  ISBN 9781534474376 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781534474390 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Korean Americans—Juvenile fiction. | CYAC: Korean Americans—Fiction. | Entrepreneurship—Fiction. | Business enterprises—Fiction. | Love—Fiction. | Beauty culture—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.S846 Mad 2021 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.S846 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020038934

  LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020038935