Stand Up, Yumi Chung!

by Jessica Kim

The rest of the night, I lie awake in bed, listening to the sounds of my parents arguing downstairs, blaming each other for raising a disappointment like me. I blink away the tears, feeling numb as everything crashes down.

  The restaurant is in trouble. Yuri is moving away. Felipe and Sienna will probably never talk to me again. Jasmine thinks I’m a liar. My parents think I’m the most rotten daughter on the planet. And I might as well kiss my hopes of going to PAMS goodbye.

  And worst of all, I’m right back to who I was before.

  The Old Me.

  CHAPTER 22

  Yuri and I are unloading her stuff from the U-Haul to store in the garage while she’s away in Nepal. But my mind is somewhere else. All I can think about is how the camp showcase happened today and I have no idea how it went.

  “Who knew I had so much stuff?” Yuri drags a crate across the ground with all her might. “I can’t believe I’m going to be living out of a backpack for the next two years.”

  “Yup.” I focus on stacking the boxes along the back wall, not much in the mood for conversation.

  She unfolds a lawn chair. “How about we stop for a break?”

  “Great, I’m pooped,” I grumble, planting myself on a big box. I reach for my phone only to remember, oh yeah, my parents confiscated it this morning.

  “Can I borrow your phone again?”

  “Sure.” She tosses it to me, and I immediately scroll through the Haha Club’s social media to see if anyone has posted anything from the showcase.

  I refresh a bunch of times. “Still nothing.”

  “You sure you want to keep checking? Isn’t that going to make you feel worse?”

  “Probably.”

  Even though I’m “forbidden to affiliate” with the Haha Club people for the rest of my natural life, that doesn’t mean I’m not dying to know what’s going on with them. The FOMO is strong—I have to lurk; there’s too much I want to know. Was it a packed house? Did Sienna do her joke about the cow doing yoga? Did Felipe end up wearing his red velvet or rainbow sequin bow tie?

  Yuri frowns as I hand her back her phone. “What are you going to do without my phone when I leave for Nepal?”

  My face falls. “Don’t remind me.”

  I tug at my shirt. The real question is, what am I going to do without my big sister?

  I let out a long sigh.

  “I’ll return before you know it.” She tousles my hair, but suddenly jumps back, letting out a bloodcurdling scream.

  “What? What is it?” I yelp.

  She points wildly at the top of my head, horrified. Yuri covers her mouth with both hands. “Spider!”

  I thrash and scream. My whole body flares up, and suddenly there are creepy crawly sensations all over my body. I swear I feel tarantula hairs skittering across the nape of my neck. I bend over, violently flinging my head and raking my fingers through my hair, trying to shake out what I’m convinced is an entire black widow colony.

  “Stop! Don’t move,” Yuri screams. She tiptoes over to me like a spy. “Shh.” She grabs a curling iron from a box and grips it like a baseball bat. “Hold. Still. I’ve got a good angle.”

  “Do you see any bite marks?”

  I’m feeling woozy. This is what it’s like to have black widow venom in my system. How much time do I have before my major organs shut down?

  “Hold still!” Yuri instructs me.

  I crouch into the fetal position, my life flashing before my eyes. So many dreams unfulfilled. I’ve never even been to a BTS concert.

  There’s a whoosh of air dangerously close to my scalp, and a scraggly black thing goes sailing through the air and lands on the concrete floor.

  “You got it?”

  “I think so.” Yuri stomps on it with her sneaker, but when she lifts her foot, she bursts into laughter.

  I bend to take a closer look.

  What the heck?

  “Seriously, Yuri?” I pick it up. It’s a tangled ball of black thread. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “Sorry, it looked just like a spider . . .” A deep laugh erupts from her. “You should have seen your face, though.”

  “Very funny.”

  She bulges her eyes in mock terror, which makes me crack a smile.

  She does it again, and I can’t resist laughing.

  It reminds me of a joke.

  “Hey, why should you never trust a spider?”

  Yuri shakes her head. “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Because they always post stuff on the web,” I say with a straight face.

  We cackle together some more until our sides hurt.

  “Aw, Yooms. You must be feeling better if you’re making jokes again.” She bops me with her elbow.

  Then she gives me a curious sideways glance. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad?”

  “Just a little this morning.” I sink back on the box.

  “How are things going?”

  I cross my arms. “About what you’d expect.” Which means we’re pretending nothing happened, but obviously something did because the screen door’s hinges are busted from all the slamming.

  “How are things at the restaurant?”

  I shrug. “Mom told me to take some time off from helping out to concentrate on studying for my test.”

  “That’s serious. She never does that.”

  “Yeah, I’m actually relieved. It’ll be nice to get a break from all their bickering. That’s all they do these days.”

  “They have a lot on their minds, Yumi.”

  “You’re telling me. They’re so consumed with the Grand Reopening, they don’t even care about me and my problems right now.”

  “No, they do. They’re stressed. That’s all.”

  Whatever. I’ll always be invisible to them.

  I stretch my legs and yawn. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. “Yuri, you know you can’t freak out every time you think you see a spider.”

  I bend to pick up the scraggle of black thread from the ground. “There’s probably going to be a bunch of spiders at the farms you’re staying at.”

  “Oh no, you’re probably right.” She nods like she’s realizing it for the first time. “I need to make sure to bring enough bug spray.”

  She gets up and takes out two banana milk boxes from the extra fridge in the garage. She tosses one to me and takes a long sip of hers.

  “I got my first assignment. We’re going to be teaching gardening techniques.”

  I stifle a giggle. “Yuri, what do you know about gardening?” I don’t think I’ve ever seen my sister touch dirt in my whole life. She’s, like, the biggest clean-freak germophobe ever.

  “I guess I’ll have to learn on the job.” She plays with her straw. “It’ll be an adventure. That’s what I’ve been wanting, right?”

  She lets out a nervous chuckle like she’s trying to convince me or herself or both.

  I chug my banana milk.

  “Don’t worry,” I say. “You’re going to have the best time.”

  She’ll get to journey from one village to the next, learning new things with her new, interesting friends, free from Mom and Dad’s rules and expectations. I’m getting jealous just thinking about it. Except not the spider part.

  “Think about how great it’ll be to do whatever you want for a change.”

  “That’s true.” Yuri smiles weakly and then checks the time. “I’ve got to return this moving van before they close.” She pulls the keys from her pocket. “I have an idea. On the way back, we can get some patbingsu.”

  “No, thanks.” I brush off the dust from my shorts. For once, the allure of shaved ice has no hold on me.

  “C’mon, I’ll buy you the giant matcha green tea one you like,” she says with a wink. “With mochi balls?”

  I finish the banana mi
lk and toss it into the trash can. “You go. I’m going to take Nabi for a walk.”

  Maybe that’ll help me forget the fact my sister is leaving me and I’m missing the camp showcase.

  * * *

  • • •

  Nabi wags her fluffy little tail as I leash her up. The summer sun is finally starting to set, and the heat is subsiding. I’m not much of a runner, but that’s just about the only thing my parents will let me do outside the house unsupervised.

  I head out to go around the block. My feet hit the pavement in a steady rhythm, and slowly I pick up the pace. The dry Santa Ana wind gusts through my hair as I try to empty my brain, but thoughts keep sweeping their way in.

  I wonder what Jasmine thinks of me now. Did she ever read the letter I wrote her?

  I pump my legs faster and faster.

  Who am I kidding? She probably thinks I’m no different from that shady student of hers, the one who stole her notebook. My heart pounds in my chest. She hates me, I know it. I can practically feel it.

  My heart rate speeds as I jog down the block. The streetlamps that line the sidewalks flicker on, and the sky is a pink-lemonade-and-whipped-cream swirl. I remember my old science teacher once explained that our colorful sunsets are due, in part, to all the pollution in the air. Who knew how beautiful smog could be under the right conditions?

  Nabi is panting hard, and her pace slows.

  “C’mon, girl, you can’t stop now. We’ve got to hurry if we want to get back home before dark.” Or else my parents will probably panic and call 911 to file a missing person report.

  She makes a whining sound and defiantly plants her butt down, letting me know she’s had enough exercise for the day.

  “All right, you win.” Lazy little dog.

  I tug on her leash, signaling we’ll be walking the rest of the way.

  We turn onto the main road to take the fastest route home, past familiar parking lots and shopping plazas.

  Nabi stops to do her business right in front of the Comic Underworld store. While I wait for her to finish, I can’t resist taking a peek through the store window.

  My heart aches.

  There in the back, I can make out the issues of Beetleman, Chameleon Girl, and Ninja Girl still sitting on the shelf where we left them a few days ago. When things were so different.

  Suddenly, I’m flooded with memories and I’m an emotional mess. I remember the time Felipe and I choreographed our robot dance routine. And the time Sienna gave me a pair of socks she tie-dyed in my favorite colors.

  They were such good friends to me.

  Now every time I pass this place I’ll be reminded of how I ruined everything.

  My side cramps.

  It’s getting dark, so I bag up Nabi’s poop and head for home.

  CHAPTER 23

  Mrs. Pak’s timer chimes, indicating the end of class. It’s hard to believe I made it to the final hagwon session of the summer.

  As we’re getting our things, Mrs. Pak raps her pointer on the whiteboard like a woodpecker.

  “Attention, students. A few announcements,” she says, quieting us.

  Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. The sharp sounds of her footsteps still make my blood pressure climb.

  Mrs. Pak takes off her glasses. “As you know, today concludes our Test Prep 101 class. You’ve all grown so much during our time together. I’ve pushed you, and you’ve studied diligently, and I hope that you’ll continue to pursue excellence beyond these walls. I expect to hear lots of good news soon.”

  To my surprise, someone starts clapping, and we all join in.

  “All right. That’s enough.”

  Mrs. Pak, who I didn’t think was capable of blushing, lifts one hand for silence.

  “Thank you for all your hard work this summer, students. Good luck in your future academic endeavors.”

  On the way out, she smiles warmly at me.

  “Great effort, Yumi. I’m very proud of your progress. I have a feeling I’ll be adding you to my Wall of Excellence in a few years if you keep it up.”

  I beam, not knowing quite how to respond. “Thank you . . . for everything.”

  That Mrs. Pak. She’s an acquired taste for sure, but I think I might actually miss her.

  Outside in the hallway, Ginny holds up her hand for a high five.

  “Woo-hoo! I never thought this day would come,” she says with a grin across her face. “We’re finally free.”

  She spins around in circles with her arms outstretched.

  “For now, I guess.” Until Winston starts up in just a few short weeks. I sling on my backpack with a sigh.

  “Still bummed about not going to PAMS?” Ginny asks.

  “Yeah.” A lump forms in my throat.

  “I’m sorry about what happened.” Ginny nods sympathetically. “It really stinks.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll get used to it.” I don’t want to ruin the good feels. “Since it’s the last day, do you want to celebrate with a taco truck run?”

  Ginny says, “No, I’m good. My mom packed this yummy bulgogi for me.”

  I do a double take. “You’re eating beef now?” I take a seat at the lunch table. “What happened to feed it, don’t eat it?”

  She gets out her bento box from her backpack. “I’m still vegan.” She pops off the lid to show me. “Check it out. My mom made bulgogi out of soy curls.”

  “Soy curls?” That sounds like a bad hairstyle my mom would try to force on me.

  “They’re dehydrated strips of soy protein made out of whole, non-GMO soybeans. They’re a great meat alternative.”

  She stashes the container in the ancient wood-paneled microwave and punches a few buttons.

  “So tell me, I’m dying to know: how’d you ever get your mom to finally support your veganism?” I take out a bag of Hot Cheetos from my own backpack.

  “Well, it was pretty simple. Instead of fighting, we just talked about it. I sat her down at the kitchen table and told her I was serious about making this lifestyle choice. At first, she blew me off like usual, but when I got out all the recipes and articles I’d printed, she saw how much it mattered to me.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yup.”

  “Interesting.” I nibble on my Hot Cheetos in disbelief. All summer long, Ginny’s been fighting so hard for her mom to listen to her, and all she needed to do was explain in words why it meant so much.

  The microwave beeps, and Ginny pulls out the steaming hot dish and sets it on the table.

  I take a whiff. It sure looks and smells like beef. She hands me a forkful of the fake bulgogi. “Try it.”

  “Sure,” I say, though I’d rather not. I don’t want to be rude, so I take a bite. Not bad. Not great. The flavor is right, but the consistency is more like Laffy Taffy than Korean-style thin-sliced marinated beef.

  Hmm.

  I can’t believe I’m eating tofu curls.

  More than that, I can’t believe Ginny convinced her mom to cook vegan.

  I guess nothing is impossible.

  CHAPTER 24

  If I spend another minute studying for the SSAT, my brain just might pop like an overinflated balloon. There’s absolutely no space in there for any new information. With the test in two days, it’s doubtful any last-minute cramming will make a huge difference anyway.

  I need to take a break, and the savory aroma of dumplings sizzling in sesame oil wafting in from the kitchen is calling my name.

  “Did you eat?” Mom asks, piling a dozen steaming dumplings onto a plate for me.

  “Not yet.” I grab a set of chopsticks.

  Things must be thawing between my mom and me if she’s actually cooking again. It’s a good thing because, as much as I love Cinnamon Toast Crunch, I don’t think I can stomach another bowl of cereal.

  “Eat a lot.” She
sets down a tiny bowl of dipping sauce. “Cannot study on empty stomach.”

  Ah, out comes the real reason she’s laying off me.

  “How are things at the restaurant?”

  “Very busy but almost ready for tomorrow,” she says, flipping more dumplings in the frying pan. “Don’t worry about it. We will take care of everything at Grand Reopening. Just come. You focus on getting the scholarship.” Mom takes off her apron and points back upstairs. “After you eat, I want you to clean your room. Cannot concentrate on your work in that mess!”

  “Okay.” I relent, doing what I can to placate her.

  After I polish off my dumplings, I trudge back to my room to survey the damage.

  Eesh. It’s been so hectic these days, I haven’t noticed that my room has slowly devolved into a hazardous waste zone unfit for human habitation.

  Where to even begin?

  I go with the biggest challenge first: my closet.

  When I slide the door open, a huge mountain of stuff tumbles out, swallowing up the entire middle of my room.

  Yuck. I start pitching things into the garbage. Empty bags of Hot Cheetos, old issues of Girls’ World, stacks of Pokémon cards. All kinds of random stuff.

  I comb through the debris and discover some long-forgotten Halloween candy in an old pillowcase. What’s the expiration date on chocolate, anyway? Is ten months too old? Cautiously, I nibble on a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. It’s a little chalky, but surprisingly decent.

  I’m making progress thinning the heap of junk when, from the corner of my eye, I spy my Super-Secret Comedy Notebook poking out from the pile.

  I jump to retrieve it.

  It’s only been a couple of days since I threw it across my room in anger, but holding it again feels like I’m reconciling with an old friend.

  I flip through and stop when I come upon the routine I’d planned to perform at the showcase. I laugh out loud as I reread it, but it’d be funnier if I changed the wording a bit.

  I grab a pen to start making some tweaks, but then there’s a knock at the door.

  I stash my notebook and pen back under the pile.