Faking Reality Page 10

  That one and 75 percent of the pile.

  “Well, that narrows it down,” I say sarcastically when she’s done.

  Aurora takes a swig of melon soda and mimes wiping her brow. “I wouldn’t do this for just anybody, you know. On to Round Two. Trust me. This is a good problem to have.”

  “What’s a good problem to have?” Leo appears beside Aurora. “I’m done topping up all the shōyu bottles like Ojiichan asked. No thanks to you, of course.”

  “Guess you won Favorite Matsuda Child yet again, dear brother. Congrats.” Aurora gives Leo a dismissive flick of her hand. “Begone. I’m helping Koty find her Prince Charming.”

  Leo ignores his sister’s command and slides in on the other side of our booth.

  “This isn’t an episode of The Bachelor, Aurora.” I can feel the heat in my cheeks. “I’m not trying to make a love connection. I’m looking for someone who is comfortable on camera and has more personality than a potato.”

  “Phil wants a fake romance to boost ratings?” Leo says.

  Aurora gives Leo a scathing look. “Rude.”

  There is a truth to Leo’s comment, but I’m not going to dignify it. “A tuxedo company is one of our big sponsors. They want my date to model some of their spring line for the party for an online and print campaign.”

  “But they’re still buying you a date for your party?” Leo says. Aurora must have kicked him in the shin under the table because he winces and adds, “Hiring, not buying.”

  “Same difference. Yeah, I know it’s pathetic, but it’ll make things easier in the end. If things aren’t a match, I never have to see or talk to him again after the party.”

  “Ooooor, if things are a match, you can walk the red carpets together.” Aurora’s eyes light up. “And give your designer gowns—because you wouldn’t dare wear the same dress twice—to your favorite sister from another mister.”

  “You might have to fight Nevaeh for them.”

  Though I doubt that any of the guys in this folder are red-carpet-level actors, part of me enjoys watching Leo’s conflicted reaction.

  “I can’t wait.” Aurora squeals and grabs my arm.

  I feel a twinge in my heart. I’m glad to have my closest friend’s attention back, even if it is only for an hour on a random Wednesday afternoon, but I wish I didn’t have to do something so dramatic to get that attention in the first place.

  “Time to narrow down the pile.” I push the Awww Yeah pile back to Aurora and tuck the others back in the folder. “Round Two.”

  On the top of the pile is the headshot of a very cute guy, probably of Southeast Asian descent.

  “Yaaaasss.” Aurora picks up the headshot and flips it over to read the guy’s acting history and stats. He goes back into the new Awww Yeah pile.

  “So, we’re not going to watch Kitsune Mask?” Leo says.

  “This might take longer than I thought.” I hand Leo my iPad. “Why don’t you watch it without me this week? I’ll watch it later tonight, and we’ll discuss at lunch tomorrow. Okay?”

  “Go enjoy your fantasy girl in another booth.” Aurora adds another headshot to the Awww Yeah pile. “Koty and I have work to do.”

  “And wear headphones while you watch it. I don’t want any spoilers.”

  “Okay.” A wrinkle creases Leo’s forehead, but it doesn’t stop him from accepting my iPad and sliding out of the booth.

  I find it suspicious that Leo sits at the table closest to us, but I don’t call him out on it.

  “Ahhh, the pile isn’t getting much smaller,” Aurora says when we get to the end. There are still over a dozen guys in the Awww Yeah pile.

  “He has to be more than a pretty face,” I say. “I need somebody with a personality I can click with.”

  “Got it. First friend.” Aurora gives me a sassy wink. “Then boyfriend.”

  Leo immediately looks back at the tablet when I catch his eye. It’s bad for the restaurant—but good for me—that business is dead today. We’re down to five choices by the time Kitsune Mask ends.

  “You missed out, Koty. This episode is wild.” Leo hands the iPad back to me.

  “No spoilers.” I slide the iPad into my backpack.

  “I have to say that Jay Yoshikawa was looking hot hot hot.” Leo pulls at the collar of his T-shirt.

  “I’m sure Koty will be happy to pass along your fanboy compliments to Ava Takahashi when she’s walking the red carpet with one of these up-and-coming actors.” Aurora points at the table.

  I know it’s a low blow, but I can’t help myself. “We need an objective opinion, Leo. What do you think of these five guys? Which would be your Top Three choices as my date?”

  Aurora crosses her arms and sits back in the booth. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.”

  “Can do.” Leo drags Aurora out of the booth by her elbow and takes her spot. “I’m not impressed by ‘a smoldering smile’ or a ‘jawline that could cut glass.’”

  Leo confirms my suspicion that he’s been listening to Aurora and me the whole time. Aurora sits down across from us.

  “Since you think you can do a better job than I can, what kind of guy would be perfect for Dakota?”

  “Ummmm,” Leo says.

  “See.” Aurora crosses her arms.

  “Give me a second to think.” Leo looks around the restaurant. His forehead creases in concentration. “Dakota needs someone loyal. Someone who will keep her safe.”

  “Well that settles it. I should bring a German shepherd as my date.” I flick Leo in the arm. “You get to put him in the tux, though.”

  Leo flicks me back. “I’m just saying that looks are nice, but it’s what’s on the inside that counts.”

  “Says the guy who told me not two minutes ago how ‘hot hot hot’”—I pull at the collar of my T-shirt, mocking Leo—“Jay Yoshikawa looked this week. Double standard much?”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “Because she’s a fantasy.” Leo taps on the headshot closest to him. “These guys are reality.”

  “It’s TV. Everything is a fantasy, even what they pass off as reality. You know that.”

  Leo flips over all five of the guys’ headshots and reads the backs.

  To her credit, when a couple comes into the restaurant, Aurora jumps up and seats them. I don’t bother Leo as he continues to read and reread each headshot until he slowly pulls them into a ranking. Finally, Leo picks them all up, taps them on the table, and hands the pile to me.

  “Actor Number One and Number Two were a tie on paper.”

  “What broke the tie then?” I look down. Actor Number One is definitely Asian. Actor Number Two is racially ambiguous.

  “He’s Asian. Representation matters.” Leo taps his fist on his chest. “It says he speaks some Japanese.” Leo scoffs. “We’ll see.”

  “You’re not coming on the date with me.”

  “I could. We could double-date. That way, you could get a second opinion.”

  “Good idea, but not with you and Lindsay,” Aurora says as she passes by with a tray filled with ocha and edamame for the customers.

  “I’m going to have to agree with Aurora on this one,” I say.

  I’m a decent-enough actress that Leo can’t see that eating lunch with him and Lindsay—who insists on holding Leo’s hand the entire time—still hurts. Still, it’s better than losing him altogether.

  “Are you sure?” Leo tips his head to the side. “Aurora tends to be somewhere between brutally honest and I-have-no-filter. What if he’s Mr. Right, but Aurora scares him off?”

  I wince because Leo is right. “And then there’s the whole paparazzi problem. How can we even do a test date if there will be cameras in our faces? Maybe I should stick to video chats.”

  “You could have your date here.”

  “Because that wouldn’t be awkward,” I say.

  “Awkward but safe.”

  “Leo’s right for once.” Aurora shares an I-can’t-believe-we’re-a
greeing-with-each-other look with Leo.

  “Okay. But I want Aurora to be my server.”

  “We’ll see.” Leo wiggles his eyebrows at me.

  “Never mind. I’ll stick to video chats.”

  “Seriously, Koty, come here as a test.” Leo puts his hand on my arm. “Let me—us—help you find someone who deserves a girl as awesome as you are.”

  As much as I want to yell, “That guy is sitting next to me!” I don’t. Instead, I put my hand over Leo’s and say, “Thanks.”

  The front door of the restaurant opens, and a family of six comes in.

  “I gotta run. I made the first payment for our trip thanks to the Homecoming Carnival, but I still have two more payments to come up with.”

  “Well, what are you sitting around for? Go.” I gather my stuff. “Tomorrow. Lunch. We chat.”

  Leo greets the family with his boy-next-door smile that continues to melt my heart. I look down at this Jake guy who can speak a little Japanese.

  Maybe he’s the one I’ve been waiting for. Maybe he’s the one who will help me move on, for real.

  Chapter

  12

  Operation Kill-Dakota-with-This-Ridiculous-Party rolls on at full speed through December. Though I tried to put the date off until after the holidays, Stephanie scheduled it for Saturday instead. My stomach lurches thinking about it. I try to distract myself by being hyper-focused on the little stuff, like my clothes.

  “Understated elegance,” I tell Nevaeh at lunch. “Not, I’m going clubbing after the date is done. No foil eyelashes. No wigs.”

  “What? I think you’d look hot in my pastel pink wig.” Nevaeh twists my hair up one way and then another. “Or what about the long, white wig? A little silver glitter eyeliner. You could borrow my white leather coat with the faux fur around the neck. Now, that would make a statement.”

  “Yeah, if the statement is: I’m cosplaying Jay Yoshikawa.” Leo slides in across the table from us at lunch.

  Nevaeh nods their head. “I like where you are going with this, Cinnamon Roll Prince.”

  “That was sarcasm, Nevaeh,” Leo says. “Not that you couldn’t pull off a white leather jumpsuit, Koty, but maybe that wouldn’t make the best first impression.”

  “I want to be memorable, but in a good way.” That said, if wearing a white leather jumpsuit and a white wig would move me out of the Friend Zone, I would drop my burrito right now and have them shipped to my house today. Is it too early to be thinking about Halloween?

  Leo pulls a nondescript, plastic box out of his backpack, and a nutty smell wafts across the table. Leo and another one of his sad PB&J sandwiches. I understand why Ojiichan is offended by Leo’s daily lunch choice, especially with the amount of delicious Japanese leftovers always available in the Matsudas’ home fridge. Leo stopped bringing a bento in fourth grade after kids mocked both his “weird” lunch and his matching Super Sentai–themed bento boxes and chopsticks. He’s been the King of PB&J ever since. I even offered to swap lunches with him to make both me and Ojiichan happy. Nope.

  “Hey, babe.” Lindsay slides in next to Leo and puts her tray down. As Principal Docker is standing two tables over, Lindsay refrains from greeting Leo with her usual over-the-top PDA, like they haven’t seen each other in years instead of five minutes ago when Japanese class ended.

  “We’re helping Koty pick out her outfit for her date tomorrow night,” Nevaeh brings Lindsay up to speed.

  “Oh, I want to help. Plus, I think I have a better sense of your style than these two.” Lindsay swings her corn dog at Leo and Nevaeh.

  “Here are the two outfits I—okay, Stephanie—picked out.”

  Nevaeh snatches the phone out of my hand as soon as I pull up the pictures. “Are these Starr Shibutani? I love her stuff!”

  “I want to see.” Lindsay pulls at Nevaeh’s hand until they put the phone in the middle of the table.

  “Hey, look, you have kneecaps.” Leo says.

  It’s true. Look Number One includes a short, flirty floral-print dress with a tobacco-colored leather jacket and matching ankle boots. Stephanie talked me into curling a few pieces of hair to “frame my face” and wearing more makeup than my usual routine.

  Lindsay nods. “Soft. Feminine. Approachable. I love it.”

  “A little pedestrian for my taste, but you’ve got a girl-next-door vibe going on here.” Nevaeh looks at Leo. “Your thoughts, Cinnamon Roll Prince?”

  “Erm, you look pretty.” The way Leo says it sounds more like a question than an answer.

  I side-eye him. “Thanks for that rousing vote of confidence.”

  Nevaeh slides to the next picture. “Oooh, now this one’s got some sass. The earrings are basic though.”

  This time Leo leans in to see the picture better. Stephanie paired black, fitted cropped pants and a black blouse with white polka dots. I added the jean jacket and black ballet flats from my closet. Stephanie pulled my hair into a high ponytail, winged my eyeliner a little, and gave me some red lips.

  Leo raises an eyebrow but gives me a generic, “You look pretty here too.”

  “What he means is that you look retro but still modern. Very on point for the TV show, but without looking dated and costumey.” Lindsay nods appreciatively. “I agree with Nevaeh. The earrings are off.”

  While Nevaeh and Lindsay discuss the finer points of earrings, Leo swipes the photos back.

  Leo points at my phone. “This one is my favorite.”

  I look down. I’m wearing the Dakota McDonald special, which means a black tank top with a soft, fleecy plaid overshirt, faded jeans with both knees ripped out—by accident, not as a fashion statement—and work boots. I have no makeup on, and a scrunchie keeps my collarbone-length hair pulled up into a sloppy bun.

  “That was my before look, Leo.”

  “Oh.” Leo looks down at the photo and then back up. His stare zaps me to the pit of my stomach. “I stand by my choice. You look kinda cold and uncomfortable in the other two pictures. You look warm and comfortable in this one. I’m no fashion expert, but maybe find something that makes you feel comfortable and confident.”

  Nevaeh fake cries. “My work here is done.”

  “Speaking of being comfortable in your own skin.” I take my phone back. “Can I post a picture of your hands?”

  After the whole Wings Controversy before fall break, Nevaeh has made it their mission to discover all the other loopholes in the student dress code. Today’s act of rebellion: body art. Students aren’t allowed to have tattoos that show. Even ones made with Sharpies like Nevaeh did back in early November. But henna is not a tattoo.

  “I talked Diya into doing my henna early because we have so many family members to do before the wedding,” Nevaeh says, as I take an artistic shot of our hands together for my Instagram account. Mr. Dockert sees us. Sees Nevaeh’s intricately decorated hands. “I dare somebody to write me up today for it. My stepmom would be down here in a hot second.”

  Mr. Dockert looks away.

  * * *

  “My, somebody is trying to make an impression.” Mom walks into my room without knocking first, a vase of roses in her hand.

  “Mom! I was filming.” I lean forward and turn off my camera.

  “And somebody sounds like a diva.”

  “Sorry. I’ve been trying to record this segment all afternoon. Why is talking about wall studs so impossible today?” I put my black-and-yellow stud finder, which I nicknamed Bumble Bee sometime around third grade, down on my desk. “But notice…” I gesture around my room. “I cleaned my room before recording. No more Mom Shame.”

  “Fantastic. Now these lovely flowers won’t look so out of place in the usual pigsty.”

  “Roses? Fan-cy.” I take the flower arrangement from Mom and read the tiny card. “To Lovely Dakota. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Breathlessly, Jake. Breathlessly? Am I expected to know CPR or something for this date?”

  “It’s a little over-the-top, but sweet.”

  Okay
, I’m impressed. The last time I received flowers from a boy was for my thirteenth birthday. I was having a huge pity party for myself because not only were my parents out of town on business on my actual birthday, but I also caught a nasty stomach bug and had to bail on my plans with Leo. Pretty sure that Stephanie—whom my parents paid to basically be my live-in nanny for the weekend—is never going to have children now. I’ve scarred her for life.

  That Saturday, as I was alternating between lying on the cold tile floor wishing I were dead and driving the porcelain bus while revisiting the Ghost of Pizzas Past, the doorbell rang. A few minutes later, Stephanie’s hand reached around the door. She put a little basket filled with daisies on the floor next to me, followed by a bottle of Gatorade and a sleeve of saltine crackers. There was a note inside the basket.

  Happy Birthday, Koty! Get well soon so we can go to the movies together.

  ~Leo and Mr. Ushi

  “I’m glad you’re feeling more enthusiastic about this, Koty.” Mom brings me back to the present. “But keep your head on straight. Not all boys are like Leo. I’m not saying to keep your barriers up, but be careful with your heart. The rest of your body, too. Maybe now would be a good time to have Part Two of The Talk.”

  “No, it absolutely would not.” I plunk the vase on top of my desk and pick up my stud finder. “This date is going to be two people eating dinner and talking. That’s it. If it somehow morphs into something bigger…” Why does my brain decide to torture me with an image of Leo and Lindsay and their “octopus arms” right now? I shake my head. “We’ll talk. I promise. But now, I have a tutorial to film on how to hang a shelf.”

  “Stephanie said your web show is taking off. Who knew?”

  I point at myself. “I did.”

  “Proud of you, sweetie.” Mom kisses the top of my head. “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

  After I finally get a good take, I stop and wander to my closet. I slide the door open, and my over-stuffed closet barfs out its contents all over my floor. It takes a few minutes of digging, but I finally find it.