Page 28

CHAPTER 28 VI?T

After his run with Evie, where he said some cringe-worthy things that made him groan even days later, Viet eased back into the rhythm of school more quickly than expected. His mother had said she would drive him back to campus, but she was always spooked by highways, so he opted for a cheap bus ride. He only had a large suitcase, after all, and the idea of having his father at the front seat, even though he offered by text, didn’t sit right. Ba was absent throughout his break; and even during Christmas it was just him and his mom. Initially Viet was more worried than sad.

He guessed he was like his father, who took long drives after an argument, eager to hide any anger or sadness from people who knew him. Vietnamese gossip kept his mother up-to-date about his father: Sometimes he went barhopping with neighborhood buddies and drunkenly sang sad ballads at karaoke. He ate out at friends’ restaurants since his cooking skill was nearly at zero. His new apartment wasn’t too far from Little Saigon and was in a decent area, which his mother relayed to Viet, her words said in relief. Like she’d said, she didn’t hate his father.

On Christmas Eve his dad left Viet’s present on the porch: a new pair of Pegasus running shoes. Viet didn’t think Ba even knew the brand; he imagined his father Googling what to get college son who runs. Still, he texted his thanks and received a thumbs-up in response.

Kale brought back from Hawai?i a sunburnt Tate. The group spent a good five minutes teasing their friend who had the least melanin in their group. As they indulged in the treats he brought back—red coconut balls and Li Hing Mui powder on top of some freshly cut pineapples—they talked about their winter breaks. Viet didn’t want to purposefully hide the news about his parents’ divorce, but he also didn’t want to bring down the mood. Saying it might cause him to slip into a mindset that brought a shadow over everything else in his life.

But his friends, perhaps after speaking with Evie, found out and consoled him in their own private ways. Lis hugged him and Kale and Tate reminded him about their open door policy. He imagined they said the same to Evie after learning about her breakup with Jake.

Now seated at the Coffee House at the square tables, they waited for their coffee order to be done. The boyfriends took one side while Evie, Viet, and Lis took the other three.

“You never sit next to me,” Kale whined to Viet.

“I’m worried I’d make Tate jealous,” he threw back at Kale.

“Tate doesn’t mind.”

“Please, take him,” the person in question chimed in, scrolling through his phone. He leaned over to show Lis a picture.

“Children, behave,” Evie said absent-mindedly. Her attention was on the counter, and she rose when their names were called. “I’ll grab a tray for the coffees.”

“I’ll help.” Viet fell into step beside her. He had an ulterior motive; other than their run two days ago, they hadn’t had any time to spend alone together. They dodged bodies to get to the serving bar. When Evie stepped forward, a male voice said, “You just cut me.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.” She shifted a little.

“But I actually don’t really mind,” the voice, now flirty, added. Viet angled for a look. The guy had olive skin, a bright white smile that was used to put people at ease. Do people pick up others while they’re waiting for coffee? He thought that only happened on-screen.

“Um.” She paused as she reached for two of their drinks while Viet picked up the others with a tray.

“I’m Felix. What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I would have definitely remembered.”

Okay. So he was flirting with her. A knot formed in Viet’s belly. Was Evie going to flirt back? Did she want to? Felix had a confident ease that resembled Jake’s. And she was single now. She could do whatever she wanted.

Evie’s eyes slid over to Viet who nearly looked away, cursing himself for blatantly staring. “Great, you got the rest of the drinks. Thanks, babe.”

Viet’s eyebrows shot straight up. Meanwhile, the stranger frowned. “Well, nice chatting with you.”

When Felix was a good distance away, Viet whispered, his throat tight, “Babe?”

She turned and hissed back, “He was hitting on me. I panicked. Is he looking over here?” She was about to crane her neck around, so he moved to block her sight.

“Wait.”

“What?”

“He’s looking over.” He wasn’t; the failed suitor had left already. “Pretend you’re telling me something.”

She listened. His eyes touched her hair (why does it look so soft?), zigzagged between her eyes and cheeks (why were they glowing? Was it makeup?), and he guiltily lingered on her lips before his eyes flew back up. He was acting unreasonable. “Okay, all clear.”

“Wait.”

Viet asked, “What? Do you need to look at me now?” He cracked a smile. “There’s not much to look at, to be honest.”

“Not true. You always look comfy.” He held his breath. “You have nice hair; I much prefer it without any products. You have a great smile. I don’t know why you haven’t dated anyone. You can have anyone….” She listed all these things without pause, without any embarrassment, without knowing that he was burning up inside, torn between wanting her to stop and wanting to hear more. “Oh, sorry, did that make you uncomfortable? I didn’t—”

“I don’t mind. It’s just—are you flirting with me?”

“I’m only kidding. I was just teasing you,” she said with a smile. “Thank you, for pretending before.”

“Were you surprised? To get hit on.”

“Yes, but I think I also panicked at the smallest hint of romance, especially after what Jake—” She stopped. She never told him what exactly happened or what was said during their breakup. “Never mind. Come on, everyone’s waiting.” She smoothly pivoted toward their friends. If Viet were a balloon, he would have been deflated by now.

They made it back to the tables. Kale was making grabby hands at his, so Evie distributed the drinks. Somehow his elbow knocked over his own gingerbread latte. Liquid cascaded over the edge and dripped to the floor.

There was no limit to the humiliation coming his way today.