“Because it’s more than a birthday party. It’s the end of the McDonalds’ Alternate Universe.”
“Was that supposed to make me feel better?” I sniff. “Because now I feel even worse.”
“Sorry. Ugh.” Leo’s voice is tight. After a beat he adds, “I wanted one night. One night to be a normal teen.”
“As usual, Cinder-fella has to work while everybody else goes to the ball. I promise I’m going to make this up to you somehow.” I tip my head to the side until it touches Leo’s. “I know. As soon as we get back from Japan, I want you to start training me. That way, junior and senior year, I will be your stunt double. I will fill in for you every Homecoming, prom, Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve, JCC event that doesn’t fall on a Monday, or any other normal teen event that you want to do. You always give up so much of yourself for everybody else. It’s not fair. Let me do something for you.”
Leo pinches the bridge of his nose to keep his emotions bottled up inside. I don’t press him for an answer. Instead, we sit in a pained silence. I take a deep breath and come back to the things that ground me. The person who grounds me.
“Hey, Leo. Now would be a great time for one of your idiotic ideas.” I turn my head and gently tap it against Leo’s. “I mean the more outrageous, the better. Just let ’em fly. Because once you give me the spark, then I can expand it into an awesome plan. As I do.”
Leo sniffs and taps my head gently with his. “As we do.”
Chapter
28
We’re out of time. The jury is still out on whether this plan is brilliant or idiotic. It doesn’t matter. Reality is about to collide with the McDonalds’ Alternate Universe in T-minus ten minutes and counting.
Early Saturday morning, I weave through the makeshift Matsuda booth to the back where Dad’s delivery truck is doubling as the prep kitchen/storage unit for the weekend. I can feel the side-eye from the other vendors. The ones grumbling about how Matsuda magically got a prime location at the Phoenix Phoodie Phestival this year instead of their usual fringe spot—which is a fraction of the buy-in cost—right in front of their restaurant.
When pressed by the Matsudas—who were as shocked by the sudden switch as everybody else—Dad shrugged and said, “I called in a few favors.”
“Leo?” I peek into the back of the truck. “I brought you Thai iced tea. The kind with the boba at the bottom. Your favorite.”
I put our drinks on the floor of the truck and climb into the back. Leo’s bagged tux and washbag hang inside the truck’s door. Near the back of the truck next to the giant coolers, Leo stands with one hand against the wall.
I put my hand on Leo’s back. “You okay?”
“Yep. Yep. Perfectly fine. Just give me a minute.” Leo’s voice doesn’t match his words.
Even in the low light of the truck, I can see the redness creeping up his neck. His back continues to expand and contract rapidly under my hand.
“C’mon, Leo!” Leo yells at himself. “Time to man up. Stop being such a baby.”
“Hey.” I turn Leo around to face me. “Having anxiety does not make you a baby. Mine comes in a different flavor, but I know exactly how you feel.”
“I want to do this. For you. For me too.” Leo takes a deep breath. “Is The Network still balking at the last-minute change in the lineup?”
“Well—” I can’t lie to Leo, but I can give him the stripped-down version of Phil’s tantrum. “Don’t worry about Phil. Plus, Stephanie ironed everything out with The Network and with A Class Act Tuxedo Company. Alex already did the sound ups and other obligations. As long as you are on camera tonight wearing the tux and standing on your own two feet, the contract is fulfilled and you get fifty percent of the modeling fee. Hey, they’re the one getting the two-for-one deal here. They should be thanking me.”
“That would make my last Japan trip payment and give me some spending money.” Leo takes another cleansing breath but still lets out a frustrated sigh. “Why does my heart still feel ready to explode out of my chest? Ugh! I will not pass out on live TV!”
“The tabloids would love that. Unlucky in love DIY Princess kills another relationship. Such a bad kisser that her latest boyfriend—stolen from a frenemy during a vicious catfight in the girls’ bathroom—is rushed to the ER.”
“I’m not your boyfriend.”
“I’m also not a bad kisser, for the record. However, facts don’t exactly matter with the paparazzi. So, who are we going to let tell this story today? Them or us?”
“Us.” Leo’s voice is barely more than a whisper.
“If you start feeling overwhelmed or woozy”—I stick out my hand—“hold my hand and picture yourself going ‘Kitsunebiiiiiiiii’ on some creeptastic yōkai. Or Phil. Or both, whatever makes you feel better. The paparazzi will be so distracted by the hand-holding that they’ll forget whatever bumble came before it. If you’re desperate, hug me. I’ll take that as an SOS. Then I’ll make a scene so you can escape for a while. Okay?”
“Thanks, Koty.”
“No, thank you. Only a best friend would do this.”
“Seriously, I wouldn’t do this for anybody else but you.” Leo rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “I think this officially makes us even for the Soccer Ball versus Front Tooth event.”
“Eeeeeh, we’ll see.” I tug Leo into motion. “Drink your boba tea.”
We sit on the floor of the delivery truck, sipping our drinks, and swinging our legs like we’re six, not now both officially sixteen.
“So, Alex is cool with all of this?” Leo points at the tux bag with his boba tea.
“Does he have a choice?”
“I guess not.”
Leo doesn’t need to know the rest of the conversation Alex and I had last Sunday night when he celebrated my real birthday with my family. Specifically, the stargazing part afterward in my backyard, when I told Alex that I didn’t expect him to give up his dreams for me. Now or in August. That we would just take things one day at a time until the clock runs out. My heart still stings from the truth.
I give Leo the CliffsNotes version instead. “I care about Alex, but the reality is that our relationship was doomed from the start.”
“Wow, aren’t you the Queen of Romance.”
“He’s leaving for college soon, and I have two more years of high school. It’s not going to work after August.” I blink back the tears. “It still hurts though. Dude, reality sucks. How about you? Did you and Lindsay get everything worked out yesterday? Is she still coming to the party tonight?”
“Who knows?” Leo lets out a sarcastic laugh. “This party isn’t turning out how we planned at all.”
“No, it definitely is not.” I throw an arm around Leo’s shoulders. “But everything’s going to be okay. I got my BFF and our friends and a tiara that would make Miss Universe jelly. We’ll have fun no matter what happens. I promise.”
Leo hops off the back of the truck and offers me his hand. “Time to start what might be our most baka idea ever.”
Even after my flip-flops hit the asphalt, Leo doesn’t let go of my hand. Phil signals to Jordan to start filming. The red creeps up Leo’s neck as we walk over to his part of the booth. Props to Mom for seeing Leo’s distress. Though Phil hasn’t given her the signal, Mom intercepts Jordan and begins her scripted monologue early.
“Today, we’re in downtown Phoenix for the twelfth annual Phoenix Phoodie Phestival.” Mom turns on the full Tamlyn Akagi charm and talks to the lens like it’s a trusted friend.
Meanwhile, Leo’s hands are shaking so much that I take the white piece of fabric from him and tie it around his forehead.
“Okay, okay. I need to get into the zone now.” Leo walks over to the handwashing station. “I plan on working nonstop from nine a.m. until two forty-five.”
“Stephanie said to remind you that she will pick you up at the Circle K on the corner at three. Then you can take a quick shower at my house and presto-change-o, Clark Kent becomes Superman.”
&
nbsp; “I’m more Arthur Curry becomes Aquaman.”
“We live in the desert, Leo.”
“Yes, but movie Arthur is half Asian too. Well, Pacific Islander. Representation matters.”
“Okay, Aquaman, be sure to apologize to the shrimp before Ojiichan cooks them today.” While Leo scrubs his hands, I pull the twenty dollars in small bills out of my pocket and tuck them into his tip jar.
“Koty.” Leo points at the tip jar when he returns to his station.
“What? I’m priming the pump.” I lower my voice. “Because I’m not going to Japan without you this summer.”
I expect Leo to smile, not suddenly get a deer-in-the-headlights look. I look back over my shoulder to see Jordan the Camera Op and Mom. I let out a nervous laugh.
“You’ll see that Dakota’s build from the Homecoming Carnival is getting another outing this weekend.” Mom walks behind the build and puts a hand on Leo’s back. “Just like Dakota has followed in her family’s footsteps, so has her longtime friend Leo Matsuda. At sixteen years old, Leo is an accomplished chef, taking after his grandfather, Nagoya-born chef Masao Matsuda. Today, Leo will be making yakisoba, a popular street festival food in Japan. Want to learn more about Japanese festival food? Watch the first two episodes of Season 13 when Team McDonald did a build in Japan. So, what exactly goes into yakisoba, Leo? I see you have some cabbage and noodles.”
Mom continues to pat Leo’s back and ask him leading questions about his process. Though his voice is squeaky and his words choppy at first, Mom’s calming energy helps Leo get through the interview without his heart going Alien out of his chest.
“Cut.” Phil slides off his headphones and takes Mom’s lapel mic from her. “Dakota, let’s do a couple of sound ups for your Instagram video series. One outside the tent area and one inside with Leo. If we could get a little bit of something about how excited you are about Leo being your date, you know, some kind of spark. That would be nice.”
“Phil, I’m going to go,” Mom says. “I need to extract Doug from the Fudge Brothers’ tent before he samples too much of their product. Meet you in about fifteen minutes, Koty.”
I walk with Phil and Mom to the front of the tent, where Mr. Matsuda is hanging the chalkboard sign listing today’s limited-menu specials.
“Can I add some drawings?” I ask Mr. Matsuda, and he hands me the bag of chalk markers.
“That would work too,” Phil says more to Jordan than me. “Start outside the booth and then focus in on Dakota as she finishes the drawing. Then we’ll follow her back over to Leo to say goodbye until tonight. Maybe a spark or two. Dakota, if you want to talk about your upcoming trip to Japan with Leo and plug his booth, that’s okay for Instagram.”
“What trip to Japan with Leo?” Mr. Matsuda’s voice carries through the tent.
“Ummmmm,” I say.
“Or whatever trip you were just talking about.” Phil holds up the lapel mic Mom had on.
“Please leave that part out, Koty.” Mrs. Matsuda shares a pointed look with Leo. “For now.”
“Fine. We’re not covering the trip anyway, so it’s irrelevant.” Phil hands me the lapel mic and slides his headphones on. He signals to Jordan the Camera Op. “Okay, we’re set.”
I hold the chalk marker up to the board, but nothing comes out. Mr. and Mrs. Matsuda continue to talk in hushed Japanese until Mrs. Matsuda finally grabs her husband by the elbow and leads him behind the delivery truck. For half a second, my old drawing of a pile of poo comes to my mind. Nope. Well, yes, but nope. I draw a picture of a squid on a stick instead. Its panicked facial expression pretty much sums up how things are going this morning.
I slap a smile on my face and fix the squid’s expression before standing up.
“Hey, guys. Thanks for tuning in tonight for my Super Sweet Sixteen Extravaganza. Before I start getting ready, I stopped by our family friends’—the Matsudas’—booth here at the Phoenix Phoodie Phestival.”
I walk back under the giant red-and-white striped tent Dad sweet-talked somebody into letting us borrow for the weekend.
“Ooh, what do we have here? Looks like eldest sibling and future famous patissier Sasha Matsuda created some of her famous manju—Japanese sweets—especially for this weekend’s event.”
Phil emphatically points in Leo’s direction.
“And, gonna give a high five to my friend and middle Matsuda sibling Aurora who is rocking the cash register this weekend. And finally, we have Leo—my BFF and date for tonight—who is creating his signature dish, yakisoba. If you are coming to the festival this weekend, do not miss this booth.”
Phil pretends to yawn. Rude.
“Hey, Leo.” I put my hand on Leo’s shoulder so that he’ll look at me instead of the camera. “Which tux from A Class Act Tuxedo Company did you end up choosing?”
Leo’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out. A redness shoots up from his collar. Phil lets out an annoyed sigh. Whatever, Phil. Even Aquaman needs an assist from Wonder Woman occasionally.
“Wait. Don’t tell me.” I put my hand up. “I want it to be a secret.”
Leo raises an eyebrow because he knows as well as I do which one he chose. I put my elbow out. Leo taps his elbow to mine.
“Tune in at five p.m. Pacific Standard Time, eight p.m. Eastern and find out. Dakota out. Peace.” Not only do I steal Nevaeh’s outro, but I steal their hand sign too.
“Cut,” Phil says. “What was with the funky chicken arms?”
“I didn’t want to contaminate Leo’s hands.”
“Go take a couple of selfies with Leo and post them. Sparks, please. I’ll get the other footage to Stephanie to post as soon as I can.”
“Gotcha, boss.”
When I turn back around to face Leo, I give him an eye roll and an I-may-puke face. It makes Leo smirk, and I snap a picture. I add a squid emoji and a location pin to it and load it up.
Even though the whole Matsuda family finally signed the appearance release so they could be on camera, I still ask Leo, “Can I take a selfie with you?”
“If you must.”
I step behind the yakisoba booth with Leo. He doesn’t smile.
“C’mon, we’re trying to boost your tips here.” I wince. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. And Mom already knew. She and I kind of had a kitchen sink argument yesterday after my whole thing with Lindsay, and the truth about the trip came out along with a bunch of other stuff. We wanted to get Dad on board with the idea first before we broke the news to Ojiichan.”
“Wait. Where is Ojiichan? He went to buy a ginger ale half an hour ago.”
“I don’t know. If he’s not back in five, I’ll go look for him.” Leo cranes his neck to look over the light but steadily increasing crowd. “Ojiichan’s probably doing recon at the Wisteria Village Café booth. Yeah, we see your melon pan and Olympic skaters signing autographs and raise you manju and selfies with America’s DIY Princess.”
“I don’t know, the speed skater with the gold medal around his neck was pretty hot. I mean, somebody should go do further research on the competition and report back.”
Aurora raises her hand. “I volunteer as tribute.”
“Traitors, both of you,” Leo says.
“Then let’s fight fire with fire.” I step into Leo and hold my phone up.
This time I get a genuine smile. The hearts start racking up two seconds after I post it. I’m happy to be a sell-out if it means more traffic at the Matsudas’ booth.
“Welp, here’s hoping that this year’s festival is lit, because Dad and Ojiichan are not going to be on board with the Japan trip if we don’t make bank this weekend. Also, as of yesterday, Sasha has officially reclaimed the title of Favorite Matsuda Child.”
“Don’t want it!” Sasha yells from behind her manju display table.
Mr. and Mrs. Matsuda come back out from behind the delivery truck. They don’t say a word to each other. All the Matsuda kids wisely duck their heads and busy themselves. I feel so bad for
Leo. Everything I do to make things better for him always seems to make things worse.
“I gotta go,” I announce to the tent. “Gambatte, Team Matsuda!”
I head toward the Circle K, where I’m meeting up with Mom and Dad. I see Ojiichan coming back the other way with a can of soda in his hand.
“Daijōbu, Ojiichan?” I ask if he is okay when we intersect.
“Hai, hai.” Ojiichan barely makes eye contact as he passes me by.
“Gambatte, ne!” Good luck, I yell to his back.
His head dips a little, but he doesn’t stop his shuffle down the street.
Chapter
29
To say that my fans liked the selfie with Leo would be an understatement. Part of me feels bad for Lindsay, especially if she reads the hundreds of comments saying what a cute couple Leo and I make. I even comment: Thanks, but we’re just BFFs. It doesn’t help the speculation.
“Dakota!” Dad yells up the stairs, “The camera crew is here.”
“She’ll be down in a minute, Doug,” Mom yells down the stairs before bursting into my bedroom. “Here’s the tape. Stephanie just left to pick up Leo. I feel like this day has flown by us. That’s enough tape, honey.”
I smoosh the fabric of my dress against the double-sided fashion tape attached to the skin on my chest. I do some jumping jacks. I shimmy my shoulders around. Everything seems secure. I add another piece of body tape anyway.
Mom turns me around and sniffs. “I wish your grandparents, especially Obaachan, were here to see this. I know they would be so proud.”
“Hey, hey, hey, no crying,” I say to both of us because I’m getting misty too. “Jonathan will kill us if we ruin his work before the party.”
“Today has been such a rollercoaster of emotions. I’m happy. I’m sad. Relieved. Hopeful. Remorseful. Ugh.” Mom dabs at her eyes with a tissue. “I want to think about tomorrow. I also don’t want to think about tomorrow.”
Faking Reality Page 26