Page 10

Chapter Ten

VIVI

Lan.

Orchid flower, according to Google. She fits her name, beautiful and elegant. I replay the moment her hand touched mine over and over. To put a face to all the bookmarked pages, to the Instagram I’ve looked at every day, and to the girl who brought me here—I can’t even describe this feeling. But I remember how my breathing slowed as I watched her gracefully make bánh mì.

I roll into bed with a stupid smile on my face, my heart pounding at the thought of her… Of all her followers, she shared her name with me . Well, I did pry it out of her. But she still gave it to me, so she trusts me . Right? Either way, something changed—I felt it in the way her gaze softened at me, and how her mouth twitched when I started pouring my heart out to a stranger.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this.” Cindy snaps me from my thoughts. I had just finished explaining how I crashed into Lan last night and all the cosmic forces that led us to each other. Cindy plops next to me. “But maybe you were destined to meet.

“What’s next?” she asks. “Your long-lost-but-not-really-lost family?”

“No, this was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of luck, so who knows if it’ll happen again? Someone must be pulling miracles if I do find my mom’s family.”

“ Or you could just ask your mom.”

“That’s a one-in-a-million chance of ever happening.”

She rolls her eyes, laughing. “Well, at least now I’ll still get to watch a beautiful friendship blossom between you and your favorite person in the world.”

“Favorite person in the world?” I cringe. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You read her blog at least once a day, and I’m the only one who has to listen to you talk about it. Now I’m free—you can talk to her, and I’ll be here watching and cheering.” She giggles. “Maybe it’s time for you to have some romance, too. Ask her on a date—”

“Are you kidding?” She cannot be serious. What if I scare Lan away? Plus, I don’t even like her like that. “She’s someone I respect… not a crush or whatever you think this is.”

“Oookaaayyy. You can still respect someone and have a crush on them.”

“That’s not the point. Will you please help me photoshop myself in front of Singapore’s Merlion instead of psychoanalyzing me?”

“Oh yeah. We still need to do that. Go stand over there.” She positions me flat against the white dorm wall and gets into her “photographer” pose—something she lovingly named after seeing the way my dad takes photos: squatting as close to the ground as possible, butt back and the phone aligning to the perfect height. “Scoot closer to the window. We need the sun in your face or else it’ll be too obvious.”

I follow her direction. Chin up. Chin down. Turn to the side. Smile. Smile with teeth. No smiling too much. Pretend to point. “How many photos are you going to take?”

“Okay, the other wall next.”

“Seriously?”

She shrugs. “You can’t rush art.”

We finally settle on two “good enough” photos out of the five hundred we took. This whole scheme is going to use up all my phone storage. Cindy carefully cuts out my silhouette and places it just at the right angle beside the Merlion, turning up the exposure and saturation for a warm tone. “There,” she says, proud of herself. “You look like a tourist. Mission accomplished.”

My mouth falls agape at the photo. She even photoshopped flyaway hair to my face so it looks like we’re actually outside. “You can start a business out of this.”

“You can help me with the taxes.”

I roll my eyes. “Just because I’ve been helping my immigrant parents with their taxes since birth doesn’t mean I’m obligated to do yours.”

“You’re forgetting that I’ve also been doing my immigrant parents’ taxes since I was in the womb. Surprised the IRS hasn’t come after us yet. Speaking of immigrant parents, your mom’s calling.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit . It’s a FaceTime! What the fuck do I do?”

“Quick! Get in bed.” She pushes me toward the bed before helping me position the sheets over half of my face. “And make sure only your face is in the frame. Facebook mom–style.”

The FaceTime connects. “Vivi!” Mom’s voice comes through, and instantly I see her face with the way she looks whenever she’s concerned and about to flip mountains. Both eyebrows raised and lips thinned. “You took long.”

“Yeah, sorry, Mom, was asleep.” I fake a yawn. “Jet lag, you know?”

“Okay, con… What did you do on your first day? Tell Mommy.” Since Mom immigrated at a young age, she often speaks to me in a mix of Vietnamese and English. She often trades a word in one language for a word in the other when she can’t remember the right vocabulary. She refers to herself as Mommy. I could call her M ? , but the Vietnamese word basically means the same thing, anyway. Vietnamese is strange like that—there’s no universal pronoun for I . Even I call myself con , which directly translates to “child.” I was taught to always use con when talking to someone older than me. “Is that a pimple? Tch, Mommy bi ? t Asia can be so stressful on you. Your face is red like trái tomato.”

“What? No, it’s a mosquito bite—”

“Mosquitoes! What kind of place have con mu ? i? Where are you staying?”

“A good and expensive place!” Mom strangely only approves of anything that has a hefty price tag to it. The more expensive it was, the more she’d trust it. “And my first day was good. I had ? c xào—”

Cindy taps her foot and furiously shakes her head at me. “Vivi! What did we talk about? No mentioning anything related to, you know, your homeland ?” she whisper-yells.

Mom’s brows deepen. “ ? c xào?”

I let out a loud laugh. Too loud. “Why did I say that! Um, I had some lo mein!” Is lo mein popular in Singapore? “I said ? c xào because I missed your ? c xào so much, Mommy.”

She cracks a smile. “Come home soon, con. Mommy can make it for you.” Feeling unexpectedly brave after seeing her happy, I brace myself. “Mom…”

“What?” The crinkled brows are back.

“How would you feel if I… say, take a flight from Singapore to Vi ? t Nam? I mean, it’s so close, and this can be a chance for me to…”

Cindy stares at me like I just lost my mind. I also can’t believe I just asked Mom this.

“No.” The smile isn’t there anymore.

“But Cindy can come with me!”

“No. Absolutely not. Who is going to take care of you? You can get killed.”

Twenty-four hours here and I’m still very much alive.

“Why do you hate Vi ? t Nam so much?” I whisper, and the line goes silent as I see Mom grind her teeth, veins surfacing on her face.

“Con,” she sighs. I prepare for Mom to shut me down, to tell me the usual whys: that I’m too young, too little to understand. But that doesn’t come. “Vi ? t Nam is very unsafe. Bad people live there. And… you can get hurt.” I can hear the anxiety behind her words.

“Mommy have to go make dinner,” she continues. “Mommy th ?? ng con r ? t nhi ? u. Con stay safe—okay? And don’t talk to strangers!”

Oops. “Okay, bye, Mommy.”

Cindy saunters over to my bed and lets out a big sigh. “That went well.”

“So, so well.” I nod. “I’m so glad my parents don’t know how to track my location. Can you imagine how my mom would react if she ever found out?”

“I don’t need to imagine.” She shudders. “I know .”

“I can’t believe you lied to your parents for me.”

“What can I say? I’m your best friend, and unfortunately for my parents, they got a rebellious spirit instead of a good Catholic girl.”

I cackle. “I can’t believe they all forced us to go to Sunday school for so long.”

“Don’t remind me.” She plays with the cross necklace that her parents insist on her wearing on this trip to protect her. Our parents are too alike. “Remember how they were whenever we talked about gay rights?”

“Yes! I was so passionate, they should have known I was gay then.”

I prop my head up on my arm. “What are the chances I can become friends with Lan if I just stare at her from the window every day?”

“That is so creepy, and you know it. Talk to her—”

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to her… It’s that I feel so bad about lying to my mom! Did you hear what she said? Don’t talk to strangers! She’s told me that twice since we got here. I’m convinced she taped a camera to me.”

“Vivi.” She takes my hand before looking into my eyes. “If you felt bad about lying, this trip wouldn’t have happened in the first place.

“Fuck it,” she continues. “Your mom hasn’t suspected anything. You just need to stop saying the first thing that comes to your mind and never mention Vi ? t Nam in front of her… We’re set!”

I guess she has a point.

“And technically Lan isn’t a stranger. You’ve known her before this.”

“Known of her. But fine, I’ll talk to her. What do I have to lose?”

She hums. “Yeah. Not like you’ll fall in love with her and beg to stay in Sài Gòn after our study abroad.”