Reggie elbows her. “Hey! Sana was in the middle of something.”
“What? Oh, right, I’m sorry! Okay, go ahead.” She looks at me expectantly.
“Okay, right. Uh . . .” This is harder than I thought it would be. Maybe it’s not such a good idea, after all.
“You were about to tell us about breaking up with Jamie?” prompts Reggie.
Breaking up with Jamie? I blink.
“Or—oh!” Reggie gasps. “Did Jamie break up with you? Oh, Sana, that’s what happened, isn’t it.” She gives me a hug. “Was it this morning? Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“Uh.”
“Don’t worry, Sana. You’ll get over it,” says Elaine, patting my arm. “You’re too good for her anyway. Plus, now you can be with Caleb. He’s so sweet. He’ll make you forget all about her.”
“Um.” If only that were true.
Jimmy and his friends Michael and Bao are within shouting distance now, and I get a text from Caleb telling me that he and Thom have arrived as well, and I’m just not feelin’ it anymore, so to speak. “It’s okay . . . it’s not that big of a deal. We can talk about it later,” I say, and even Reggie shrugs it off after a perfunctory “You sure?” I think she’s a little distracted because of Thom.
Somehow, I manage to make it through the next three hours without crumbling under the weight of all the truth I’m not telling. Caleb is as smitten as a guy can be. He pays for my movie ticket. He offers his jacket when I shiver in the arctic chill of the movie theater. And he keeps looking at me like I’m this amazing prize he’s just won, like he can’t believe his good luck.
I feel like a jerk for allowing it to continue, but I can’t break up with him the day after our first kiss, not when he’s so happy. Especially not in public, in front of all his friends. To make up for lying, I allow him to hold my hand and put his arm around me—and I am not blind to the irony of lying to make up for lying here, but it’s all I have to offer. At least he’ll be happy today, right?
The problem is, I don’t believe it, not really. Because scraping its claws at the edges of every interaction we have is the fact that no matter how I justify it, this day is a lie. Even if Caleb’s happy now, I’m just setting him up to feel worse in the end. But in the moment, when he reaches for my hand, it feels cruel not to let him take it. And so I do, and I hide my sharp, scratchy guilt with a smile. I promise myself that I’ll find a way to end this without hurting him.
Meanwhile, Elaine and Jimmy look like, I don’t know, koala bears or something. Totally blissed out on each other, with their arms permanently wrapped around each other’s waists. And Reggie and Thom are now tentatively holding hands, pretending like it’s no big deal, but when I catch her eye, Reggie smiles at me and blushes. Janet is there, too, and some of the rest of our particular branch of the Asian crowd. There’s Andy Chin, with his arm around a white girl.
It occurs to me that this is what I used to wish for—to be unquestionably, undeniably part of a crowd, and to have places to go, things to do, and people to do them with on the weekend. To have someone’s arm around my shoulders. Everyone is goofing around, taking pictures and group selfies left and right, and generally having a great time together. Because despite his Angry Goth look and his occasionally judgmental attitude, Caleb’s basically a nice guy who likes people, so people like him back. And it helps that Thom is less spiky, is hilarious, and is clearly into Reggie, whom everybody loves. I was so close—everything looks the way it’s supposed to, all the pieces are in the right places. But it feels completely wrong. Because Caleb isn’t Jamie.
Jamie texts a couple of times, but I don’t reply. I feel bad enough just being here with everyone, and I’d feel worse pretending to her that I’m not. After her third text, the movie starts, and I put the phone on mute, stick it in my bag, and forget about it.
When it’s time for Caleb to drive me home, it’s clear that we’ve all reached a new normal—one where our little Asian girl squad, as Caleb calls it, now includes a couple of white dudes. He’s feeling so proud of himself for having broken in that I don’t have the heart to tell him I have to kick him out. And so for the second day in a row, I end up kissing him good-bye and then looking guiltily away when he tries to catch my eye afterward, because I don’t feel what he feels, and Jamie is the one I want.
I walk in the house at four thirty to find Dad getting ready to walk out. He’s putting his shoes on, and he’s got a little carry-on suitcase next to him.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
Dad glances up as he struggles with his left shoe. “One of the clients in LA had problem with the hardware interface on a product. It’s my specialty project, so I have to go to meet.”
Yeah, right. “They contacted you on a Saturday afternoon?”
“Yes! Terrible.”
“And you expect to fix this problem . . . tonight?”
“I think it’s possible. Maybe I have to stay another day just in case. I may come back on Monday instead of Sunday.” He’s not meeting my eye, fiddling with the handle of his carry-on.
“What if you’d been, I dunno, on vacation or something? Or at the beach?” Though I actually can’t think of anything Dad would be doing on a Saturday afternoon that would be so much fun that he’d forget to check his phone.
“Yeah, you’re right! Good thing I’m not!” Dad smiles.
“Hmm.”
“I’m sorry I have to go,” he says, grabbing his carry-on and clapping me on the shoulder on his way out. “Be a good girl!”
Mom, who’s been hovering in the background, calls, “Itterasshai!”
“Ittekimasu!” replies Dad, already getting into the car. Already on the way to some secret rendezvous with That Woman. Mom stays in the open doorway, waving until Dad is out of sight. As he turns the corner and disappears, she sighs and closes the door.
I can’t watch this anymore. Against my better judgment I venture, “Do you think he’s telling the truth? I mean, do you think he’s really going to LA to fix some dumb robot?”
“Sana!” Mom’s voice is harsh. She switches to Japanese. “Didn’t I tell you not to talk about that again?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Daman-nasai.” Her solution to everything. Silence.
Which brings me to Jamie’s texts from earlier today, the ones I ignored. I can feel my insides start to shrivel up as I read them:
12:20 p.m.
Hey, girlfriend
12:22 p.m.
Just checking about tomorrow
Can’t wait to talk to u
can’t wait to see u
1:00 p.m.
Hey there
Txtd earlier—wondering what’s up . . . ???
Tmb!
3:00 p.m.
Hey. everything ok?
3:30 p.m.