terrible thing to admit. Just because I can recognize an objective fact doesn’t mean that I’m attracted to him. Doesn’t mean I like him as a human being.
“You’re going shopping today,” Mama announces, sprinkling sliced ginger and scallions into my jok (what we call congee). “I’m giving you my credit card. You can charge whatever you want.”
I rub my eyes, as much from the steam dislodging my contacts as from her words. Mama, giving me free rein of her credit card? I must be dreaming.
“The Songkran holiday is next week,” she continues, “and I hear the Tongdees are hosting a party for all the young people that evening.”
“Yes,” I say, trying to keep a straight face. “They feel badly about yanking Taran out of school his senior year. So they thought a party might ease his transition.”
She smiles, which proves that she doesn’t have the first idea that I’ve been obsessing over the new boy. In spite of our promising beginning, however, I haven’t crossed paths with Taran all week.
“I thought you might want something new to wear,” Mama says.
Now I know I’m definitely dreaming. The Songkran festival marks the beginning of the Thai New Year on April thirteenth, and the holiday is celebrated with water. Pouring water, splashing water, spraying water—all symbols of washing away the previous year’s negativity. It’s a blast. When we were younger, Mama would set up an inflatable swimming pool in the backyard and arm all the kids with water guns. The twins would commandeer the hose, but Mat and I held our own. Back to back, a water gun in each hand, we would spin in a slow circle, soaking every last person who stepped into our range.
As much fun as the holiday is, however, we don’t usually give or receive presents. Plus, I can count on two hands the number of new dresses I’ve gotten in my lifetime.
I shove a spoonful of jok into my mouth—and then pant as it burns my tongue. Mama made my favorite breakfast. She didn’t even use the packet. Instead, she ground up grains of rice in the food processor and fashioned meatballs out of minced pork. Add a soft-boiled egg, and I’m in food ecstasy.
And yet, I can tell that something’s up with Mama. I mean, I would love a new outfit for Taran’s party. (Something sleek and elegant, maybe in a deep jewel tone?) But the offer doesn’t make any sense. Is Mama feeling nostalgic? Gripped with premature empty-nest syndrome? Or maybe—
“Mat’s picking you up in thirty minutes. You’re going shopping for your second date.”
Ugh. I should have known.
I let my spoon clatter to the table. “Seriously, Mama?”
I’ve barely seen my nemesis all week, much less talked to him. Our only communication was when I traded out the curly lashes on his Jeep for dollar-sign headlights and lots of gold bling, transforming his baby from flirty coquette to greedy monster. The decor—and the thought of his reaction—made me giggle.
I know my intention was to explore deeper, more vulnerable emotions. But after our last interaction, I couldn’t open myself up like that. Not to him or the rest of the world.
So, greed it is. That should put Mat in his place.
But instead of slinking into the parking lot after first bell or finding an isolated spot in the overflow area, Mat rolled into school as confident as ever. He smiled and waved when the decorated Jeep drew honks and catcalls, as though the whole car costume was his inspired idea. I’d be impressed at his ability to make the best of any situation if he weren’t so aggravating.
I take another huge bite, even though the jok is still hot. “I don’t know how to tell you this,” I say around a mouthful of runny egg yolk. “But people don’t go shopping on second dates. That’s just—” My mind scrambles for an appropriate word. Weird? Embarrassing? So uncool that it makes me cringe? I settle on: “Awkward.”
“Nonsense.” Mama waves a hand, dismissing my concerns like dust motes in the air. “That’s what they did in Pretty Women.”
I groan. Shoulda known. Not only is it Pretty Woman, singular, but more importantly, this means that the car ride wasn’t a fluke. Mama was deliberately referencing To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. She never dated in this country, after all. She came to the United States in her thirties, with a medical license and a fiancé. It figures that she would draw her dating knowledge from American rom-coms—especially ones that