him come up with nutritional information for your menu. Oh! Or have Amah fake a heart attack and have him do CPR on her.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve been watching too many telenovelas. Will’s got plenty of mom bait up his sleeve; we don’t have to make anything up.” I realize what I’ve just said and make a face. “OMG, why are we talking about whether my mom will approve of my marrying Will? It’s not like he’s going to want to date me or anything.”
“Can’t hurt to try. This guy sounds incredible! You sound like you’re glowing.”
“Give me a break, you can’t hear light.” I sigh, still smiling.
“You know what I mean. You haven’t sounded this excited about a guy since… your birthday.” She catches herself, but I can hear the name that she didn’t want to say out loud anyway. And it’s this bruise of a memory that dampens the expanse of my feelings and makes me remember where I am. Who I am. What I need to do, without distractions.
I can feel the smile melt off my face. “Who am I kidding,” I mutter. “I’m sure I’m not his type.”
“Jos, don’t do this.”
“Do what?” I ask, daring her to say it.
I hear Priya’s deep intake of breath and brace myself. “You know, the thing you sometimes do where you admit defeat before you even start the game.”
“It’s not like that,” I insist. “No games, Pri. I promise. I just got excited. It’s only a crush that will run its course. I’m psyched that I found someone who can help the business, that’s all.”
“Jos.”
“Gotta go, it’s bedtime. See you tomorrow night to do some storyboarding?” We’re working on a short film to submit to the All American High School Film Festival. I’m writing the screenplay and Priya is going to direct.
After we hang up I stare at my ceiling, and despite myself, I can’t stop thinking about my last big crush. Rob Bradley comes into A-Plus at least twice a month to pick up takeout for his family, and sometime after Christmas he started making small talk about little things, like our English homework and who we thought was writing our school’s anonymous advice column. When Priya told me she’d convinced him to come to my birthday dinner at Carmella’s, I wanted to hug her and puke at the same time.
Turns out, Rob only came to my party because he wanted to mack on Peggy Cheng, the other Chinese girl in our grade, aka the one I always get mistaken for.
Months after my party, I still feel like a deflated balloon thinking about it. Rob only gave me a cursory “Hey, happy birthday” before beelining to grab a seat next to Peggy. When I remember how he leaned his head down to laugh with her, there’s an echo of pain in my chest.
The most embarrassing thing, though, what I’m maddest at myself for, is that I had thoroughly convinced myself that Rob was interested in me. I still don’t know how I was so delusional. What, did I think that my attraction to him would magically make him attracted to me? Animal magnetism doesn’t quite work that way.
I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.
Sluggishly, I plug my phone in, but my arms give up on anything more complicated than that. I’m so bone tired that I can’t even get the energy to slide off my bed and get ready for sleep.
I figure, why bother brushing your teeth, if you just have to brush them in the morning?
This Is My Brain on Confusion
WILL
When I get dressed for my second day of work, I make a point to wear jeans and a dark polo shirt and remember to put on sneakers so my feet won’t be killing me again by the end of the day. My mother frowns at me as she gets ready to leave. “Looking rather casual, aren’t you, Will? I thought you were a management intern.” Today’s an operating room day for her, so she’ll change into scrubs when she gets to the hospital, but she’s still wearing a dress and pearls.
“My boss told me to wear clothes that I didn’t mind getting dirty,” I say, trying not to sound defensive.
“Well, as long as you remember you mustn’t look like a hooligan if you expect to get any respect from your coworkers.” She punctuates her comment with a kiss on my cheek, and I have to remind myself that her crisp British English makes everything