by Jessica Kim
Then I turn to face Jasmine again.
“But someone really special taught me that life isn’t about being perfect. I’m starting to see that I’m a work in progress, growing and learning and messing up sometimes. And that’s okay. The less I worry about what everyone else is thinking, the more I feel free to be the True Me. And that, my friends, is the secret to why I’m so happy to be up here tonight.
“You all have been great.” I take a bow. “I’m Yumi Chung. Thanks for coming to support Chung’s Barbecue!” And the place bursts with applause, and I feel like I might just burst myself when people start standing up and cheering for me. Even Manuel and Yuri pop out from the kitchen to join in.
I take another bow and exit the stage, intoxicated by the Comedian’s High.
The rest of the open-mic show takes off. The whole time it feels like I’m floating above the room, watching our closest friends gathering around flames of warmth and tasty food, laughing and enjoying each other. And the talent is out of control, too. Ginny reads a moving poem about saving the mangroves, Mr. and Mrs. Lee’s son plays Vivaldi on his violin, Jasmine joins a few kids from camp to do some hilarious improv, and Manuel and Sofia sing some Disney Princess songs on karaoke. For the final number, Dad puts on his red-tinted sunglasses and belts out a few of Elton John’s greatest hits, which totally brings the house down.
And far too soon, it’s time to wrap up our show.
Dad steps up to the mic one last time. “Hope you had a good time. If you liked the meal today and enjoyed the show, please come back again soon.”
It isn’t until we say goodbye to our guests that I’m hit with a surge of mixed emotions. On one hand, I’m on top of the world. I can’t believe we took such a big risk and pulled off an incredible night for our loved ones. Not only that, I finally got to live out my dream of performing comedy for my family, which was beyond incredible.
At the same time, I don’t know yet if we made enough money to save the restaurant.
Once everyone has left and the door is locked, it’s time to find out.
Dad loosens his necktie. “I am going to check tonight’s earnings.” He beckons us to join him in the office. “Come with me.”
The tension in the room is as thick as abalone porridge as Mom, Yuri, Manuel, and I gather around him in front of the computer.
Dad drums his hands on the desktop and wipes the sweat from his brow.
We lean in close to view the screen.
Dad wiggles the mouse, but then turns to us. “Before I click this, I want to tell you that Chung’s Barbecue has been good home for us. For fifteen years, we did a great job serving delicious food and taking care of our customers. Remember that.” His voice cracks. “Even if maybe today is our last day here.”
He’s totally stalling, but that’s okay, because I’m not quite ready to find out either.
Manuel puts his hand on Dad’s shoulder. “No matter what, it’s been a real pleasure, Bong.”
Mom’s eyes mist over as she pats Manuel on the back. “We are great team.” She smiles weakly. “You are the best cook. Even better than me.”
“No, no, no.” Manuel shakes his head. “Never.”
“It’s okay, because I taught you.”
They share a chuckle.
Yuri sniffs. “I can’t imagine my life without this place.”
“We must focus on the future now,” Dad says quietly.
Hearing that gets me choked up. So much of what’s ahead is up in the air. I don’t know where I’m going to school for seventh grade, my sister’s leaving for the Peace Corps, and we might lose the restaurant. While my heart aches at all the things I’ll miss, I take comfort in knowing there’s no such thing as failure. Just a chance to pivot and try something different.
“Are you ready?” Dad asks us.
First Yuri grabs my hand and squeezes it. Then I grab Mom’s, and Yuri grabs Manuel’s. Pretty soon we’re in a huddle around Dad.
“Yes,” we say together.
We brace ourselves.
It’s the moment of truth.
Dad clicks the button, and we all hold our breath.
The site takes forever to load, but then it comes up.
$7,214.31
For a second, no one reacts.
“Is this real?” I whisper.
Mom hesitates. She nudges my sister. “Yuri, double-check it.”
Yuri grabs a pen and starts scribbling calculations on the notepad. She looks up, smiling. “Yes, according to my calculations this figure is correct. Which means, ladies and gentlemen, Chung’s Barbecue will live to see another day!”
“Holy Hot Cheetos!” I scream.
Pandemonium breaks out, and we’re all screaming and hugging and jumping and hugging some more. The commotion is so loud, it’s like New Year’s Day and Christmas and the Fourth of July combined!
Dad grabs Manuel’s hand and gives it a vigorous shake.
“We did it! We did it!”
Mom strokes the top of my head, then cups my cheeks. “Because of your brave idea, Yumi.”
Dad pulls me into a hug. “We are so proud of you.”
“Prouder than you were of Hugh Jackman?”
Everyone laughs, and tears of joy drip down my face.
CHAPTER 30
A week later, I’m crying for another reason.
A dry summer breeze gusts by as Yuri and I stand around the driveway waiting for Dad to finish loading her bags into the trunk.
“Why did you have to choose Nepal? It’s so far.” I bite my lip, and I blink back tears. “Do you really have to leave?”
“I’m afraid so, Yooms.”
Yuri puts her arm around my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back for a visit soon enough. Anyway, you’re going to be so busy with school and improv classes.” She gives me a little nudge.
I can’t help but crack a smile. After the open-mic show, my sister somehow persuaded Mom and Dad to let me take Saturday classes at the Haha Club on the condition I get straight As. “Thanks for making that happen, by the way.”
“Don’t mention it.” She winks. “I can tell already, you’re going to have such a great time, you won’t even miss me.”
I sigh. For someone with her IQ, she couldn’t be more wrong. I’m going to miss her every single day, every single hour. “You better email me.”
She crosses her heart. “Every time I have Wi-Fi, I promise,” she says with a smile.
While the thought of navigating the world without my big sister makes me want to superglue myself to her side before she gets on that plane, I know she needs this. Already, her face looks fuller and glowier than it has in a long time. But that doesn’t make it any easier for me to say goodbye.
From my pocket, I hand her a tiny box wrapped in colorful paper. “This is for you. For good luck.”
Yuri brightens in surprise. “What’s this? You didn’t have to get me anything!”
“It’s nothing. Really.”
I look over her shoulder as she carefully opens the itty-bitty box. She covers her mouth with both hands and laughs. Inside, in one corner, on top of pink tissue paper, is the scraggle of black thread Yuri mistook for a spider that day in the garage. I took the liberty of gluing on googly eyes and a bow tie.
“I thought it’d help you overcome your fears,” I offer.
“Thanks, Yooms.” She hugs me. “I’m sure I’ll be needing this little guy. A lot.”
Suddenly, Mom comes running from the house with a thick fleece jacket.
“Don’t forget this!” She drapes it over my sister’s shoulders like a blanket.
Yuri folds it over her arm. “Mom, honestly! It’s over ninety degrees today!”
“It’s always cold on the plane.” She stashes a Ziploc bag of seaweed rice rolls in the jacket pocket. “Kimbap, so you don’t get
hungry. Food on airplane is no good.”
Dad finally slams the trunk closed and hollers, “Okay, all packed up. We should go. Before traffic gets bad.” His eyes are glassy, and he looks down at his shoes. He’s as bad with goodbyes as I am.
To break the sadness, I ask, “Why don’t we get one last family selfie in front of the house before we head out?”
“Good idea!” Dad says, subtly wiping the side of his face with a sleeve.
I hold up my phone with an outstretched arm, and we crowd together behind it.
“One! Two! Three!” Dad yells, “Say ‘kimchi’!” We smile and pose holding up our fingers in peace signs.
Click!
When I hold the screen close to get a good look at it, my knees almost buckle and the blood drains from my face.
“What’s the matter?” Yuri asks.
“It’s an email.” My heart thuds in my chest. “From the Secondary School Admission Test Committee.”
“Your test results came?” Mom says, craning her neck to see.
I swallow hard. “I guess.”
“Open it!” Mom and Dad say at the same time.
With trembling hands, I reach to tap open my email, but then Mom grabs the phone from me before I get a chance to see my score.
I brace myself for the outcome—it could go either way. I’ll just have to roll with it, no matter what happens.
Her eyes bounce left and right as she reads the words on the screen.
She lets out a squeal. “Yumi, you got the scholarship!”
“Wah!” Dad grabs my shoulders and squeezes. “Isn’t this great?”
I don’t say anything, because there’s a whole tangle of thoughts piling up in my brain.
“Yumi, how do you feel?” Yuri grabs my hands in hers.
“Are you okay with this?” Mom looks to me for my reaction.
They listen, waiting to hear what I have to say.
I stand there on the driveway collecting my thoughts, surrounded by the fierce love of my family.
“You know”—I finally speak—“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m fine with it.”
Even I’m surprised that Winston no longer scares me. After scheming the entire summer to get out of returning, I realize that it wasn’t Winston itself that was holding me back. It was my fear of it. I imagine myself walking through Winston’s halls, and I know this year will be different because I’m not the same person I was last year. I’m ready to be heard. And I don’t need to go to a new school for that, because no matter where I go, I’m still going to get my new beginning, my fresh start.
As the True Me.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
When I set out to write a book, I had no idea of all that went into it. Luckily, I had a team of talented people alongside me to help bring Yumi’s story to you.
To Joanna Cárdenas, my editor and fellow comedy nerd, I knew from our first conversation that you got this story, and this book would not be what it is without your unending patience, fierce support, and eagle eye. A big shout-out to the whole team at Kokila for all your feedback and love.
To everyone at Penguin Random House, what can I say but WOW. I couldn’t have asked for a better debut experience. I’m so proud to publish with you.
To Thao Le, my agent extraordinaire, I’m so happy to have snagged you. Working with you has confirmed my suspicion that when Asian ladies team up, there’s nothing we can’t do.
To Quincy Cho and René Colato Laínez, thank you for your invaluable insight.
Thank you, Susanna Spies, for volunteering your time to talk to me about the ins and outs of comedy camp and all the zaniness that ensues there.
To Jennifer Hom, thank you for your work on the cover art.
To Beth Phelan, who organizes #DVpit, keep doing what you’re doing; it’s changing lives!
To my AMMFAM, it’s been a gift to journey through this road to publication with you all. Special thanks to Adrienne Kisner, Alyssa Colman, and Julie Abe for all the perfectly chosen GIFs, good advice, and friendship.
To my SCBWI San Diego critique group: Danielle, Jeanne, Ruth, Alyssa, and Carol, you’ve read every draft, from when Yumi was on a bus making jokes about dogs as backpacks to now. When I first joined this group, I was hesitant to tell anyone I was a writer, but you all pushed me to be bold in my craft, ignore the rejections, and keep dreaming. Thank you, for everything.
To Kellie, plot doctor and dear friend. Our bimonthly meetings at the French Café have been the breeding grounds for many of my best ideas, thanks to you and your ingenious suggestions—truly, your fingerprints are all over this book.
To the Kimchingoos, the best writing sisters a girl could ask for! Susan, Graci, Grace, and Sarah, we may be scattered all around the world, but you’re so near and dear in my heart. I am stronger because of you. Nube putchears forever!
A great big thank you to my NYC sisters: Julie, Wenny, Nancy, and Jeannie. You were the first to encourage me to write a book way back when we were raising babies. Thank you for believing in me before I believed in myself.
To my besties, Gower, Sylvia, Charlene, Christina, Isabel, Julie, Jamie: our annual girls’ trip spurs me to be a better version of myself because I’m so inspired by you all.
Special thanks to my 가족, who always have my back: Mos, Mari, John, Joshua, Sophia, Emma, Emily, Audrey, Sharon, Oscar, Susanna, Mike, Baby Joshua, 아버님, and 어머님.
To my sisters, Heidi (미라) and Lillian, who are my biggest fans but also the first to tell me when my shoes are ugly, which is often. #widefeetproblems. Thank you for keeping me grounded and uplifted at the same time.
To 엄마 (and all immigrant parents everywhere): thank you for your many sacrifices and all your hard work in raising us. We can rise only because we stand on your shoulders.
To my daughters, Olivia and Lily, this book is for you. The things I always tell you are in this book: do your very best in all things, study hard, clean your room, eat a lot, and follow your heart!
To Phil, who is the very best. We did it!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jessica Kim writes about Asian American girls finding their way in the world. Before she was an author, Jessica studied education at UC Berkeley and spent ten years teaching third, fourth, and fifth grades in public schools. Like Yumi, Jessica lives with her family in Southern California and can't get enough Hot Cheetos, stand-up comedy, and Korean barbecue.
What’s next on
your reading list?
Discover your next
great read!
Get personalized book picks and up-to-date news about this author.
Sign up now.