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I want her to be right so badly. I let the words wash around me, but they keep snagging on the chat messages my mom had exchanged with George. How enthusiastic he had sounded with each terrible lie my mother told. When she told himIliked to cook because a woman’s place is in the kitchen. He’d said I would make the perfect wife. That’s not something I can just forget.

“I need to tell him the truth,” I blurt out. Kiki and I stare at each other for a second. I can’t believe I just said that out loud, but now that I have, I realize it’s true. I do need to tell him the truth.

“Seriously?” Kiki snorts. “No, dude, what would you even say?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, the truth! I’ll tell him that my mom’s—you know, the way that she is—and that she freaked out because, uh—” I falter when I get to the why of the situation, because I can’t imagine a reality where I tell George about Bradley and how I’d been so keen on losing my virginity. Oh god, just the thought of it is mortifying. I bury my face in my hands, not quite understanding why I feel mortified, because I’m not ashamed of my sexuality. I guess I’m ashamed of the wayeverything happened. The way I freaked out, the way I broke up with Bradley because I couldn’t swallow my pride, the awful mess I’d left behind me.

But for the first time, I don’t want to just run away from my mess again. I want to face it. If not to fix it, then at least to acknowledge that it’s happened, and the part that I’ve played in making it happen. I like George. Really like him. And I want to be honest. But wanting to be honest is one thing. Having to actually do it is quite another.

“Okay, so I’ll just tell him that Mama was very keen on having me make friends in Jakarta, so she started chatting with him. That doesn’t sound at all weird or inappropriate.” My voice is shrill with desperation.

“So he’ll find out all that time, he was chatting with your mom,” Kiki muses. “Yeah, that’s not at all weird or inappropriate. It’s definitely not going to scare him off and get us thrown out of Bali.”

I throw my head back and groan out loud. “Forget it. I’m gonna go for a walk and clear my head before dinner.” I can’t stomach the thought of seeing George at dinner, having him be nice to me, knowing that I’m lying to his face.

“You do that. I’m going to have a long, hot soak in the tub.”

Like I said, all empathy, this one.

Eleanor and I come back to the villa to see Papa, Fauzi, and two other employees sitting in the living room surrounded by a mess of papers and laptops on the coffee table. Of course Papa’s spending his time at this gorgeous resort working.

“Hi, Pa. Hi, everyone. Everything going okay?” I say. Eleanor gives Pa a kiss on the top of his head before going to the bar and getting herself a cold bottled water.

“Yes, just going over last-minute details for the event tomorrow.” Pa glances up at me and seems to only just recall that I spent my day with Sharlot. He perks up and says to his employees, “Break for five minutes.” They nod and leave the villa. As soon as they’re out, Papa grins at me. “How was your day, George?”

I don’t know what it is, but something about the day I’ve just had with Sharlot has lit a fire under me. I would normally tell Pa it was fine before retiring to my room, but for the first time, I don’t want to just do that. I want him to take me seriously. I don’t want to just be another small cog in the family company,blithely following the instructions of what to do and where to go. I want to make my voice heard. I swallow the lump in my throat. Go for it, self. This is it! Listen to Nike and just do it. “It was okay but, Pa, listen, I was just thinking about the app, and I have so many ideas for it. I was thinking we could have a sharing function—”

“Tch,” Papa tuts, waving at me, still smiling. “Not about that, George. Tell me the important stuff, eh? How did your date with Sharlot go?”

“It was good, but can we please talk about OneLiner? I really think I have some good ideas—”

Papa’s face grows somber. “Listen, George,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I understand you’re excited because it’s your first app. But it’s just a publicity thing, yes? Once it’s launched, it’ll get swallowed up by the millions and millions of other apps in the store and it’ll disappear forever. We never really expected it to have staying power, you knew that. Don’t get distracted from the actual purpose of the app. It’s mostly there to boost our company profile.”

My insides knot. I did know that, but did it have to be like that? I know the market is supercompetitive, but can’t the app have some staying power, at least? Can’t it stand on its own merits instead of being just another advertisement for the family company? “I know that, Pa, but we can at least do it well.”

Papa shakes his head. “You’ll learn as you get older what really makes a difference to the company. This—spending too much time tinkering around and perfecting the app—isn’t it. But increasing your profile by having the romance of the yearwith Sharlot, now that is good publicity.” He smiles at me and switches to English. “Wait, I get Nainai, she want to hear this.”

“Why are we speaking English?” I mutter, but he’s already scampered outside to find Nainai, who’s dozing next to the private pool. I follow Papa outside and try to push the disappointment deep, deep down.

“Come out, is nice day, very nice out here!” Papa calls out in a voice loud enough to wake the—well, Nainai.

She startles awake and looks around, blinking owlishly for a second. I walk through the sliding doors and take a big lungful of the clean Bali air, savoring the pristine sight of the private pool and garden. Eleanor plops down on the lounger and hands Nainai a glass of orange juice. I have no idea how Eleanor does this; she always knows just what our elders need before they even realize it. It’s one of the many reasons she’s so adored by them. Nainai accepts the juice with her wrinkled, pale hands and smiles at Eleanor.

“Did you kids have fun?” she says, sipping the juice.

“George and Sharlot snuck off together!” Eleanor cries.

The effect is immediate.

I jerk up. “What? No, we didn’t. We got separated—”

“And they held hands,” Eleanor says in a dramatic voice.

Papa gasps audibly, his eyes wide.

Nainai sits up so fast the juice slops over her hand. “Aiya!” Papa and Eleanor fuss around Nainai, wiping up the juice with her beach towel.

“My little grandbaby!” Nainai cries, waving Papa and Eleanor away and reaching for me.