Faking Reality Page 15

  “Oh myyyyy,” Nevaeh jokes but then immediately walks it back. “Stop scowling. You look great, Koty. But if you’re feeling too far out of your comfort zone, then switch to your lower-heeled boots.”

  I slide off my knee boots and put on the tan ankle boots.

  “For the record, you’re allowed to push the envelope with your look too,” Nevaeh says as they French braid their hair into a dramatic swoop. “And don’t let anybody tell you how to dress your body.”

  “Can you be my stunt double tonight and go on this date for me?”

  “No. Because, I have plans tonight.”

  “Spill!”

  “Not yet. It might be something. It might be nothing. They’re a cosplayer friend of Jax’s who goes to the community college. We’re getting together tonight as a group. If there’s a spark, I’ll pursue it. If not, I’ll keep waiting until the right person comes into my orbit. Baby steps. You too, okay? We don’t have to be as thirsty as Leo and Aurora. We have more at stake than they do and some still-fresh wounds, so we deserve to be a little more cautious with our hearts and the rest of our parts.”

  “Thanks. Fingers crossed for you tonight too.”

  “I gotta go. Got to fix this.” Nevaeh points at the ragged undercut. “Peace.”

  I look at myself in my long mirror one more time. I put the tall boots back on.

  * * *

  “Irasshaimase!” Mrs. Matsuda says when Alex and I burst through the restaurant door after our mad dash through the rainy parking lot.

  “I am so sorry,” Alex says, shaking the water off the top of his hair. “I didn’t realize my umbrella was completely dry-rotted. I guess that happens when you leave it in your car all summer long in Phoenix.”

  I shake off the permanently stuck, half-opened umbrella on the mat. “I’m sorry for you. At least I’m not soaked.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Water bubbles up through the cloth part of Alex’s tennis shoes. At least his leather jacket doubled as a raincoat.

  “Your usual spot, Koty?” Mrs. Matsuda says.

  I nod.

  “After you,” Alex says, and lets me pass in front of him.

  “How about some hot green tea to warm you both up on this rainy night?” Mrs. Matsuda gives me a look, which makes me wonder how much info she pumped from Mom last night about this date.

  “Yes, please.” Alex shivers.

  I’m shivering too, but that’s been happening since well before the rain started. “Thanks.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Aurora prep a tray with the ocha on it. Leo sees her and walks even faster toward our table with his order tablet out. Aurora cuts him off.

  “Hi, I’m Aurora, and I’ll be your—”

  Aurora’s foot hits a wet spot caused by my malfunctioning umbrella. As her foot slips out from underneath her, Leo’s hand swoops in to grab the tray of steaming ocha from her. Aurora grabs our table with two hands to steady herself as Leo makes a large arc with the tray. Somehow, the cups magically stay on the tray and the ocha inside them.

  “Are you okay?” Alex says to Aurora.

  “Nice save,” I say to Leo.

  “I’m fine,” Aurora says as Leo puts the steaming cups in front of us. “You must be Alex.”

  “Dakota was telling me about you guys on the way over. And you must be Leo. Named after the inventor or the actor?” Alex says.

  “The Ninja Turtle,” Leo deadpans, and Aurora elbows him in the ribs.

  “Ummm, okay. Dakota highly recommended your tonkatsu meal. The miso-katsu, right?”

  “Yep, that’s what I’m having.”

  “Me too, then.”

  “Any special instructions?” Leo says like he’s waiting for Alex to be another version of Jake Yong.

  “Nope. However you usually make it for Dakota is fine,” Alex says.

  “We will put that order in for you then.” Aurora pushes Leo toward the kitchen. Unfortunately, we can hear Aurora clearly from the other side of the kitchen door. “The Ninja Turtle? Baka dayo! And stop hovering. Give them some space. That guy, though. Yum-my. You go, Koty.”

  I duck my head and rub my temples, trying not to burst into flames. Meanwhile, Alex stifles his grin by sipping his tea.

  “So besides building things, what else do you like to do? For fun, I mean,” Alex says.

  I don’t have that much downtime between school and the show, but I have to come up with something slightly normal-sounding, so I decide on, “Video games.”

  “Cool. Me too. Which ones?”

  Since Lindsay came on the scene, Leo hasn’t had much time or interest in playing video games with me anymore. I like video games, but I don’t love them enough to play alone.

  “This is completely embarrassing, but let me couch this with the fact that my parents won’t allow any games where you are shooting another individual. It doesn’t even have to be a human. Any kind of weapon pointed at another being is a no-go at my house.” I lower my voice and whisper, “Mario Kart.”

  Alex laughs, but not in a mocking way. “Hey, no shade from me. I like shooter games, but I’m not allowed to play them or other adult games when my little cousins are around, which is a lot. Therefore, Mario Kart is my game of choice most days. Because it’s either that or Minecraft.”

  “Now, I feel better about myself.” I can feel the walls around me drop a few inches. “Stephanie said that you’re a senior. What are you doing after graduation?”

  “Not to brag, but I was accepted at all the state schools. All of them have offered me a scholarship to play ball for them. I’m also wait-listed for Duke University in North Carolina. I’m sure Ms. Stephanie has told you all about my family’s drama, which sometimes borders on telenovela-level ridiculousness.”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Hmmm.” Alex sits back in the booth. “Let’s leave it at: My parents had a very contentious divorce, and the kids got to decide which parent they wanted to live with. Pretty much every holiday and birthday has been somewhere between Hot Mess and Do-I-Need-to-Call-My-Lawyer since then. Yeah, Duke is my Number One choice right now.”

  “Wow. I’m sorry.”

  I get it. I live in a bubble. Yes, my parents fight, but not often and usually over silly things like the correct way to load the dishwasher. And even though Leo’s parents aren’t as lovey-dovey, touchy-feely as my parents, they have their own way of showing their love for each other.

  “What about you? I know you’re only a sophomore, but any plans?”

  “I might take a gap year.” I leave out that I’m not dependent on either scholarships or my parents for when or if I go to college. “Or maybe travel or study abroad or at least go somewhere that isn’t Arizona too. But I would be going to expand my horizons, not to run away from my present life.”

  Open mouth. Insert foot.

  My face burns. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”

  “No, you’re right. I do want to escape from my parents. Their drama. I’d love to be Just Alex for a little while.”

  Alex drops his eyes. He fiddles with the edge of the tray that the shōyu and other spices sit on. I take a chance and put my hand over the top of his. I squeeze it. He looks back up at me.

  “You’re not the only one. I know a couple of people like that.” I look at Aurora as she passes by our table with someone else’s order.

  “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one.”

  Alex rotates his wrist until our hands are palm to palm. For the first time since my word vomit in the walk-in refrigerator with Leo after the Homecoming Carnival, I wonder if everything is finally going to be okay. That maybe I can have a real relationship, instead of a hormone-fueled misfire with my best friend.

  Leo arrives at our table. “Two miso-katsu meals.”

  I don’t move my hand away from Alex’s. Leo clears his throat and holds the bowl of miso soup in the air, over its designated spot. I remove my hand from Alex’s and place it back in my lap.

  When he’s done,
I look up at Leo and smile. “Itadakimasu.”

  Leo gives me a head nod in return for my thanks-let’s-eat.

  “I’m going to attempt to eat with chopsticks, but could I possibly have a fork as a backup?” Alex says.

  Leo delivers the fork without comment. We’re halfway through our meal when Leo swings by again and interrupts our in-depth discussion about appropriate pizza toppings.

  “How is everything?” Leo says.

  “Great.” I finish my ocha. “Tell him, Leo, pineapple on pizza is a crime against humanity.”

  “Pineapple on pizza is a crime against humanity,” Leo’s voice is flat. Which is weird, because he usually adds “Fight me” at the end of that declaration.

  “Fine. You win.” Alex throws up his hands in defeat. “What if we order Philly cheesesteak pizza then? Maybe take it over to Tempe Town Lake for a picnic, and then go for a paddle boat ride at sunset?”

  I’d be like bam. I’m dead. RIP.

  “I’d like that, Alex,” I say. Of course, I’ll have to strategize with Stephanie beforehand about how to avoid the paparazzi. I’m used to being safe here, tucked in the back corner of the restaurant, with the Matsudas always watching for phones out. Every once in a while, somebody gets a picture on the sly, but most of the time, the Matsudas do a great job of reminding people to respect my family’s privacy.

  Mr. Matsuda has only thrown one person out of the restaurant and called the cops. That was a TMZ reporter right after the Great Homecoming Disaster last year who dared to both invade my privacy and stick a camera in Mr. Matsuda’s face too. The silver lining from that cringey event was that Matsuda got a boost in traffic after “Daring Dishwasher Comes to the Rescue of Humiliated DIY Princess” ran the next week, complete with unflattering pictures of both of us.

  “Might have to steal that date idea. For, you know, my girlfriend.” Leo lets out a half-hearted laugh. “Would you guys like to try some of the chef’s newest pickles? On the house, of course.”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve natto, I’ll try it.” I turn to Alex. “Natto is fermented soybeans. It’s stinky and slimy.” I decide to skip the story about how Leo and I used to pretend to sneeze them out of our noses at each other.

  “Not good date-food then,” Alex says. “Sure, I’m game if you are, Koty.”

  “Can we have some more ocha while you’re at it, please?” I notice that Alex’s cup is dry too.

  Leo gives us a nod and heads for the kitchen.

  “Hey, watch it,” I hear Aurora say from the other side of the swinging kitchen door when Leo bursts through it.

  A moment later, Leo puts a small bowl of brown ovals between Alex and me.

  “What is it? Water chestnuts?” I say, poking at one with the back ends of my chopsticks.

  “It’s ninniku no misozuke,” Leo says and then looks over his shoulder. “I need to go help a customer. I’ll be back with your ocha in a sec.”

  “On the count of three.” I pick up one of the miso-something pickles easily, but Alex’s pickle keeps slipping through his chopsticks. He finally puts it in his palm after dropping the same piece three times.

  “One … two … three.” I pop the pickle in my mouth at the same time as Alex does. Based on the look on his face, his taste buds register the slice of garlic at the same time mine does. Both of us swallow the piece of salty garlic and grab our teacups at the same time. Except they are still empty. My eyes stream. I put my hand over my mouth and focus all my attention on not gagging. Meanwhile, Alex is laughing and waving at his open mouth. Tears dot his kaleidoscope-colored eyes.

  It’s Aurora to the rescue. She slides two glasses of water at us. Alex and I chug.

  “I am so sorry. These aren’t meant to be served yet.” Aurora picks up the miso-pickled garlic. “The chef just put them in this afternoon. These won’t be ready for another month when they will be much much MUCH milder.” Aurora refills our drained water glasses. “You know what you guys need?”

  “A breath mint or seven?” I say before I drain that glass of water too.

  “Ice cream mochi. On the house. Since Dakota is our favorite customer.” Aurora gives Alex a flirty wink. “It’s a ball of ice cream with a layer of pounded sweet rice around it. I promise, no garlic involved.”

  Alex nods. “I’d love some.”

  “Which flavor: Matcha, vanilla, or strawberry?” Tonight, I’m in no hurry to move this date along. “I always get matcha, but I like bitter green tea. Not everybody does.”

  “I’d love to try a strawberry one. Thanks.”

  Leo won’t look me in the eye as he follows Aurora into the kitchen. Nor when he comes back out a moment later with somebody else’s order.

  No. He wouldn’t.

  “Here you go,” Aurora says as she passes the mochi ice cream to us. “One ichigo—strawberry—and one matcha.”

  “This is so good,” Alex says a few bites in. “Not gonna lie. Everything still has a little bit of a garlic taste to it, but I would get this again.”

  Leo still avoids eye contact when he slides our bill onto the table. Alex and I reach for it at the same time. His hand covers mine to keep me from pulling it to my side of the table.

  “Stephanie told you I was paying, right? That this is technically an audition.” I pull out my credit card.

  Alex tips his head to the side and gives me a sweet smile. “Audition implies that I have to pretend like I wanted to be here with you, but I wasn’t acting. Honestly, I’m not even sure I know how to act. The last time I was on any kind of stage, I was eight. I had one line in the Thanksgiving-themed class play, and I was so nervous that I threw up all over Mikayla Dutton. Yep, that was my first and last time on a stage. Mikayla still doesn’t talk to me to this day.”

  A goofy smile pulls across my face too. I proceed to Level Two without getting Phil or anybody’s approval. This is my life. My choice.

  My heart revs. “Want to do a screen test together when the crew gets back?”

  “Yeah.” Alex nods. “But, if I flunk the screen test because I, say, throw up on you or something, could we still go to Tempe Town Lake for a pizza picnic? No pineapples involved.”

  “I’d love to.” I make a mental note to buy Stephanie a second potted rosebush for her collection.

  When Alex excuses himself to use the restroom, I hand my credit card to Aurora and take the opportunity to poke my head into the kitchen.

  “Gochisōsama deshita, Ojiichan!” I yell my thanks-for-the-meal across the bustling kitchen.

  “Hai, hai.” Ojiichan loads a second bowl of steaming ramen onto Leo’s tray. “Come back soon, Dakota-chan.”

  “I will.” I hold the door open. Just as Leo is almost on me and directly in my line of sight, I say, “I want to try your garlic pickles again. When they’re ready, of course.”

  Leo drops his eyes and halts.

  “Sorry about that. If you want some heavy-duty Japanese mint gum, I have some.” Leo balances the packed tray on his shoulder. It starts to tilt when he digs his hand into his apron pocket.

  I grab the edge of the tray before a hundred dollars’ worth of food hits the floor. “That’s okay. I’ll grab a mint from the bowl upfront.”

  “Hope you had a good time tonight.” Leo is smiling, but his voice is weird. “Thank Buddha he wasn’t another Jake Yong.”

  “For real, and I did have a good time. Maybe now that the rain has finally stopped, Alex and I can go stargazing.” I give Leo a sassy wink.

  A crease forms between Leo’s eyebrows. I feel bad for half a second. The truth is that neither of us is going to be stargazing or anything else tonight. The restaurant is still nearly filled to capacity, and though I am definitely interested in getting to know Alex better, it’s going to be a long time before I trust someone again. I start to tell Leo this, but Ojiichan barks something at him, probably, “The food is getting cold!”

  “I gotta go.” Leo straightens the tray and races away.

  “Thanks for coming in toni
ght,” Mrs. Matsuda says as we pass the cash register. “Be safe going home, Koty.”

  “Koty!” Aurora runs up to me. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  Mrs. Matsuda clears her throat. That’s not enough to get Aurora off the hook.

  “I should have at least seen if you and Leo wanted to sneak out to the Snowball and Hot Chocolate Party with me. Then we could all be grounded for two weeks together, but hey.” Aurora shrugs. “I’ll make it up to you sometime when I’m not here pushing the limits of child labor laws.”

  Mrs. Matsuda grumbles something in Japanese under her breath.

  “Anyhoo, thanks for coming in. See you at school on Tuesday. Nice to meet you, Alex.” When Aurora leans in to give me an uncharacteristic hug, she slides something into my coat pocket.

  When we get to Alex’s car, I slide my hand into my jacket pocket and finger the thing.

  “I think Aurora is trying to tell me something.” I pull a pack of heavy-duty Japanese mint gum out of my pocket.

  We drive around town for a good hour, comparing musical tastes and chewing the entire pack of mint gum before the torrential rains come again. It rarely rains in Phoenix, but of course, it had to today. When we get back to my house, Alex parks between Phil’s trailer and the dumpster. He turns off the engine, and we sit in silence for a few minutes listening to the rain.

  I turn to face Alex, who has his hands on the steering wheel. “You wanna come over sometime and learn how to use the airbrush to do more detailed work?”

  “Yeah. I’d love to paint a pinstripe on my car. I was too chicken to attempt it before.”

  My heart pounds so hard that I can’t tell if the sound in my ears is my blood rushing or the rain hitting the roof of the car. A sweet love song plays on the radio with a Latin beat. Alex reaches out his hand, and I allow his fingers to lace with mine. Alex’s thumb taps out the downbeat of the song.

  “Do you like to dance?” I say.

  “Sometimes. Am I a good dancer? That’s debatable. The Mexican part of my melting-pot family always has dancing at their parties and get-togethers. Since I hit high school, my abuela keeps volunteering me as a chambelan for all her friends’ granddaughters’ quinceañeras. That’s why I was so late to Vanessa’s birthday party. I had a quinceañera before it. I barely knew the girl, but her family wanted a very traditional quinceañera. We’re talking about an all-day event with fourteen damas and fifteen chambelanes, a special mass at church, and a reception that was bigger than most people’s weddings. They were short on chambelanes, so Abuela volunteered me. So, short story long, if you need someone to do a vals—”