by Jessica Kim
“What?” I’m straight-up slack-jawed.
Hallelujah!
Mrs. Pak doesn’t know about my secret. I’m not busted. I’m not going to die. And my tests are improving exactly according to plan.
“Score is not there yet, but at least you are making progress.” Mom shakes a finger at me. “You need to study more to reach goal, okay?”
“Yes, Mom.”
I know it doesn’t sound anything like a compliment—in fact it probably sounds more like scolding—but I know what she’s saying: she’s pleased. My mother is the type who is unable say something encouraging without attaching some kind of warning to balance it out. Like when she tells me, “You are pretty, but if you don’t put on sunscreen, your skin will turn rough like dried squid.” It’s just her way, but I can read between the lines.
It occurs to me that this is the perfect moment to initiate Operation Show-My-Case, while I have them on my good side.
—Tell them I’m getting an award for hagwon.
Explain that Mrs. Pak is having an awards ceremony for her top students at the new venue next to the library. (Do not mention it’s called the Haha Club!)
“So, Mom, Dad, I have something very important to tell you,” I start to say.
Dad glances at the time. “Okay, but hurry up. We have a meeting at eleven o’clock.”
I take a deep breath. “So, there’s this special awards ceremony—”
“Award?” Mom repeats with a glimmer in her eye. “What kind award? From hagwon?”
But then there’s some knocking at the door.
“It’s me,” a deep voice calls. “Lloyd.”
“He’s early.” Dad nearly falls out of the booth as he scrambles to unlock the door. “Mr. Montgomery, please come in.”
Mr. Montgomery, or, as my parents pronounce it, Mr. Mongle-merry, is the guy who owns the strip mall where our restaurant is located. Every time I see him, he gives me a lollipop like I’m a little kid.
“Well, if it isn’t Yumi,” he says as he steps inside. “You’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you.” He lets out a hearty laugh, pulling a lime-flavored Dum-Dum from the front pocket of his cracked leather briefcase.
“Thank you.”
What is this meeting about, anyway?
Mom gives me a look, and I take my cue to make myself scarce by holing up in the kitchen, peeking through the crack in the door.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Montgomery!” Dad says.
“Bong, please.” Mr. Montgomery shakes his hand. “I’ve been telling you for fifteen years, call me Lloyd.”
My dad says it like he’s trying not to swallow his tongue. This man’s name is seriously a native Korean speaker’s worst nightmare.
“Welcome, would you like some tea?” Mom asks, clearing the table of the to-go utensils.
“No, thank you.” He straightens his necktie. “I won’t be here long.”
I watch as Dad leads Mr. Montgomery to an empty table. “How can I help you?”
He removes his well-worn cap. “You’ve been my tenant for a long time, and I’ve enjoyed doing business with you.” He scratches the back of his neck. “So this isn’t easy for me to say . . .”
Just say it already.
“But I’m under a lot of pressure . . . You’re two months behind on rent.” He coughs into his fist. “Bong, you know I consider you my friend, but I can’t let it slide anymore.”
My muscles contract. Obviously, we were having financial problems, but I had no idea that it was this bad.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Montgomery,” Dad pleads, searching the tabletop like he’s looking for his dignity.
My father is not one to apologize. Especially not like that.
He bows his head in shame like a little boy getting scolded by his father. “The construction cost for renovation was more than budget.”
“Please, sir. We just need a little more time. Our Grand Reopening is this Saturday,” Mom begs.
With that, to my great relief, Dad regains his posture.
He stands up beside the table. “Yes, that’s right. We are having our Grand Reopening, and we are gonna pay back all the past-due amount.” He walks a few paces and gestures to the brand-new karaoke stage behind him. “Just a few more days, and we will have the money for you.”
Mr. Montgomery takes a look around the place, noticing the new stage for the first time. “I sure hope so, Bong,” he says with a resigned sort of smile. “Because that new Pilates studio next door is interested in expanding into this space, and if you can’t make rent, I’m going to have to explore that option.”
Mr. Montgomery puts his cap back on his bald head. “I can only give you eight more days to get on track,” he says solemnly. “Good luck.”
Dad grabs Mr. Montgomery’s hand with both of his and shakes it vigorously, jostling the old man like a rag doll. “Thank you, Mr. Montgomery. You can count on me.”
Mom shakes his hand, too. “Please have a good day.”
After the door closes and Mr. Montgomery is gone, Mom collapses into the booth.
“Don’t worry, yobo,” Dad reassures her softly in Korean, massaging her shoulders. “Trust me. Uncle from San Jose can give us a loan, and we can make the rest at the Grand Reopening. This is no problem. We will be okay.”
But will we?
That’s a lot of money to make in such a short span.
For the first time in my life, I think my parents might be in over their heads.
There’s a lump the size of a disco ball lodged in my throat.
We need help.
Me: Yuri, text me, it’s urgent
Me: I’m not joking around
Me: Stuff’s happening with mom and dad at the restaurant
Me: money stuff
Me: I think it’s a big deal
Me: I’m starting to get really worried
Me: I mean it, Yuri. I’m not making this up
Me: I need to talk to you
Me: Yuri?
CHAPTER 16
I’m on a bus bound for UCLA a few hours later.
I’ve had enough of Yuri’s silent treatment. If she isn’t going to answer her phone, I’ll have to talk to her in person.
This is serious.
Except getting to her is turning out to be much harder than I thought it’d be.
“Finding a Starbucks should not be this difficult,” I mutter.
After circling the sprawling UCLA medical school campus in ninety-five degree heat for more than an hour, past huge brick libraries and modern high-rises, through rolling lawns, and up and down an untold number of stairs, I am seriously sweaty, tired, and just plain over it.
The GPS is draining my battery, so I close out my map app on my phone. I’m this close to calling it quits and going back to Koreatown where I’m supposed to be when I finally spot it.
Across the street, in the window of a huge building, there’s a tiny sign that blinks COFFEE.
No wonder I couldn’t find it! It’s not even a normal Starbucks—it’s more like a dinky coffee cart on the main floor that PROUDLY SERVES STARBUCKS.
I wipe away the beads of perspiration dotting my forehead and cross the street.
The doors part, and I immediately scan the expansive air-conditioned lobby in search of Yuri.
There are two people working the counter.
Wait, is that her?
I draw closer to get a better look.
It’s jarring. My sister, who Mom once described to some customers as the Asian Audrey Hepburn, perfectly poised in pastel cardigans and tasteful ballet flats, is wearing an apron and a floppy logoed baseball cap, making a drink.
She freezes when her eyes meet mine.
“Yumi, what are you doing here?”
“I, um, had to
talk to you, and you weren’t returning my texts,” I stammer, reminding myself to hold my ground. I knew it was going to be a bold move to show up at her work unannounced, but I had no other choice.
I need her.
“How did you even get here?”
Her tone is terse.
“I took the bus.” I shrug casually like I didn’t spend forever on Google Street View researching my trek across Los Angeles to get here. Some help that was.
“The bus? By yourself?” Yuri’s eyes bulge.
“Well, me and Siri,” I joke.
“Do Mom and Dad know you’re here?”
“No . . . they think I’m at Ginny’s.” I fidget with the loose thread on my backpack strap.
Right then, a petite lady in a gold pantsuit waves her arm wildly at my sister from the beverage pickup area.
“Excuse me, miss. I ordered a decaf soy latte with an extra shot and cream.” She takes the tiniest sip and wrinkles her Barbie nose. “Yeah. You made this with almond milk. You need to make me a new one,” she says with a smile that isn’t a smile at all. “Now.”
She plops her Venti cup back on the counter. Yuri and her bearded coworker exchange glances as if they’re deciding who is going to deal with her.
“We’ll be right with you, ma’am.” Yuri unties her apron. “Hey, Bruce, sorry to do this to you, but something came up that I urgently need to take care of. Is it okay if I take my break early?”
Bruce checks his watch. “Fine, but only ten minutes, okay?” he says with a tight smile.
Disgruntled Pantsuit Lady drums her French manicured fingers on the counter dramatically. “Excuse me?”
“Bruce will take care of you.” Yuri leads me outside to the courtyard, where there’s a bench next to a huge fountain.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
I get straight to the point. There’s no reason to beat around the bush.
“It’s the restaurant. We’re in trouble.” I fill her in on all the details of Mr. Montgomery’s visit. About the two months of missed rent. About the eight days we have to get it all back.
She sits there a moment with her arms crossed and a blank expression on her face.
“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” I search her face for something. Anything. But there’s nothing. The only sound comes from the water sploshing from the nearby fountain.
“You came all the way here while I’m working to tell me that?” She tucks a stray strand behind her ear. This was not the reaction I was expecting. “I’m not sure what you thought I was going to tell you.”
A flash of anger burns my cheeks. “You’re supposed to help fix this.”
Why is she acting like she doesn’t care we could very well lose the restaurant in a matter of days? Like this isn’t her problem, too.
She takes a deep breath. “I’m sure Mom and Dad know what they’re doing. We have to trust this Grand Reopening karaoke thing will be a success.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
If I’d known Yuri was going to blow me off like this, I wouldn’t have wasted hours of my time wandering all around freaking UCLA in search of her advice.
“Look, it’s not like I’m a genie who can solve all our family’s problems.”
“Apparently.” I turn away so I don’t have to look at her. “All you care about is leaving us to join the stupid Peace Corps.” My throat aches with repressed tears. “You don’t know about anything that’s going on with me, since you can’t be bothered to return my texts . . .”
“Yumi, that’s not fair.” Her voice softens. “You know I’ve had a lot going on.”
I don’t even want to hear it.
“Well, for your information, so have I. Not that you’d care. You’re too busy with your new life to know how stressed out I’ve been about the showcase this Thursday,” I say coolly, with resentment I didn’t know I had.
“What showcase?” Her head jerks, suddenly confused.
I panic, realizing my mistake. I’m so used to Yuri knowing everything about my life, I forgot to leave out the camp stuff.
“The one at comedy camp . . .” I say, my lip twitching.
“You got Mom and Dad to sign you up for comedy camp?”
There’s a moment of awkward silence.
“Yumi . . .” she scolds me, sounding exactly like Mom.
This is bad. Very, very bad. It’s too late for me to backtrack now. I have no choice but to come clean.
Big mistake.
“What? No!” Yuri snaps. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve been pretending to be Kay this whole time? Behind Mom and Dad’s back?” She sucks in her breath. “Yumi, what were you thinking?”
I double down. “This was your idea! You’re the one who told me I needed to pursue comedy. Remember? If I don’t go for it, I’ll be chasing Mom and Dad’s dreams, not my own. Those were your words, not mine.”
“But I never told you to lie and pretend to be someone else.” Yuri’s eyes laser beam into me. “Have you considered that someone somewhere is paying for Kay to go to comedy camp? Not you? That’s like stealing. Do you realize that?”
I hesitate, the words jamming up in my mouth. “Well, I wasn’t thinking about it like that. I thought it was destiny for me to meet Jasmine Jasper.” I avert my eyes. “Anyway, it’s not like I’m hurting anyone.”
“No, Yooms. It doesn’t work like that.”
She flings open her purse and grabs her checkbook. “Listen to me. You need to fix this. You are going to go to the Haha Club tomorrow to tell Jasmine Jasper the truth. Then you will give her this check and apologize for your deception.”
“But—”
Yuri’s face is dead serious. “And then you’re going to confess all of this to Mom and Dad.”
It’s right then that I lose it. I completely lose it. The thought of Mom and Dad finding out sends my body buckling into a sobbing fit. The little-kid kind with the snot and the red face and heaving breaths in front of all of Westwood to see. I’ve worked too hard for my plan to blow up now.
“Yuri. Please. I—I can’t . . .” I say between ragged breaths, trying to brush off the curious looks I’m getting from people passing by. “They’ll make me quit camp. Without ever seeing me perform. And they’ll never send me to PAMS.”
Then my life will be over, and I’ll be back to being the easy target at Winston.
Yuri’s face crumples, and she hands me a tissue from her bag. She puts her arm around me. “Come on, don’t cry, Yumi.” I bury my head in my arms and let the crashing sound of the fountain drown out my blubbering.
I get myself together enough to tell her about Operation Show-My-Case. “I’ve been staying up past midnight every night studying my butt off to prove to them I can do this. So I can give them their ninety-eight percent,” I explain, wiping my eyes. “Then maybe they’ll take me seriously about comedy. You know how Mom and Dad are. They won’t support something until they see it. Isn’t that why you waited to tell us about the Peace Corps?”
She looks uncomfortably at her hands, avoiding my eyes.
I press further. “You kept the whole Peace Corps thing a secret from them until it was a done deal. You even kept it from me.” My voice cracks.
“Yumi, I didn’t want to. I just wasn’t ready—”
“Neither am I. You of all people should understand why I need more time. Please, don’t make me tell Mom and Dad yet,” I plead.
There’s a long pause.
Finally, she speaks. “Fine.” She puts the check in my hands. “But I still want you to clear things up with Jasmine Jasper. It’s the right thing to do. Promise me.”
“Okay, I will.” I take the check and tuck it away into my notebook pocket.
“By the way, that check is a loan.” She taps my notebook with two fingers. “Just
so you know, I’ll have to work a bunch of extra shifts to cover this. I expect you to reimburse me in full as soon as you can.”
“Okay.” I sniff.
She nudges me with her elbow. “Look, let me see what I can do about the showcase. I’ll ask Bruce if I can get that day off. Manuel and I will hold down the restaurant during the lunch rush so Mom and Dad can go.”
I maul my sister in a giant bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, Yuri.” But then I push my luck. “So does that mean you’ll smooth things over with Mom and Dad?”
It’s about time they settle things anyway.
Yuri relents. “I suppose.”
“Great.”
This will fix everything. Not only will Yuri make peace with Mom and Dad, she’ll also help me with Operation Show-My-Case. It’ll be a win for everyone.
I can almost picture it now: Mom and Dad will be so impressed and overcome with emotion after my performance, they’ll agree to send me to PAMS. Maybe Yuri will be so moved by all the love that she’ll cancel her plans with the Peace Corps and decide to stay. Then we’ll be one big happy family again.
I just need to get them to the showcase.
“What would I do without you?” I rest my head on hers.
She strokes my hair. “Yumi, you don’t ever have to pretend to be anyone else, okay? You are enough just as you are,” she tells me. “Now go fix this mess.”
CHAPTER 17
I’m walking to the Haha Club and the butterflies in my belly are the size of vultures.
I check my phone again. Fifteen minutes before camp starts. Should be plenty of time.
I breathe in through my nose slowly.
Don’t overthink this, Yumi. Simply tell Jasmine what happened, apologize, and give her the money. She is kind, and she’ll understand. Chances are, we’ll laugh about this whole thing by tomorrow.
I head inside, steeling myself for the encounter, just as Jasmine’s voice floats in from the staff lounge.
Gulp.
It’s now or never.
I knock softly on the door.