When I open my eyes, it's semi-bright in the room. My thin curtains don't block the sun very well. A good thing too; otherwise I would've overslept every morning I've been in Japan. I hate getting up early.
I take my phone out to check the time. It's a little after four p.m. I have an alert-a new email from my foster mother, Darcy McIntire. She lives in Virginia with her husband Ray. I lie back on the futon and read it.
Subject: Holiday Plans?
Ava,
It's been so long since we last saw you. How are you?
We are doing fabulous. Mia is also doing well. We're attaching her latest photos for you to look at. She looks a lot like you, especially the eyes and mouth. Ray keeps saying she's going to break some hearts when she grows up. I agree.
Unable to wait, I click on the four photos she sent along with the email. They show a toddler who is a little over seventeen months old. She's in a pretty pink dress with pink, blue and white ribbons in her dark hair. Mia is my foster parents' adopted daughter and absolutely gorgeous. And Ray's right about Mia's eyes and mouth. I smile, tracing the adorable lines of her smiling lips, then run my fingers over her face lovingly. She looks happy, with fat cheeks and bright blue eyes. She's perfect, raised by perfect parents.
I go back to the email.
We were wondering if you're thinking about coming home for the holidays. If Thanksgiving is difficult, we wouldn't mind Christmas or New Year's. I know trans-Pacific isn't easy, but we'd love to have you back. We miss you so much, Ava.
If it's difficult booking a ticket this late, we'd be more than happy to help.
Love and miss you.
Darcy
Darcy's offer to "help" sends a pang of guilt through me. When she asked last year, I told her I couldn't go because it was too expensive to buy a ticket so late. It was a lie, of course. I just didn't want to return to Charlottesville. Back then she didn't push, obviously trying to spare my pride. But this time she isn't going to be that delicate about it.
After all, it's been sixteen months since I left.
Suddenly I'm wide awake. I rest the phone on my chest, screen down. Darcy and Ray don't know I had the interview in Thailand. A job there would put me even farther away.
A fierce longing pierces my heart. Why not just go home permanently? Who cares if I'll be unemployed? Darcy and Ray won't mind if I stay with them while I look for a job.
But …
I tighten my mouth. It'd be stupid to go home when I have a job in Japan and a nice offer in Thailand. The economy is horrible in the States. It's better to stay where I am.
Better to stay. Mentally repeating that a few more times, I get up and drag myself out of my room.
The TV is on, its volume low. An old Bond flick with Sean Connery is playing on the flat screen.
Bennie is parked on the couch. His neatly cropped brown hair is streaked with magenta, the color a sign of his rebellion against the ultra-staid administrators at his high school. Left to his own devices, he'd have longer hair with jagged edges, but the conservative Japanese prefer that he be more mainstream and clean-cut. The girls in his classes swoon over his dark brown eyes and chiseled looks, but they don't know he has zero interest in women. Bennie isn't leading-man handsome, but he is charming with a crooked half-smile and animated manners.
His pedicured feet bare, he is dressed in a pale gray long-sleeved cotton shirt and artfully frayed blue jeans that show off his body. He works out regularly to maintain his physique. In his hands is a phone. He's busy texting, probably planning something for tonight.
"Hey. I got you an onigiri from 7-Eleven in case you were hungry," he says, barely turning my way. His eyes briefly flick to the screen where Connery is beating the crap out of some bad guys.
"Thanks." I go to the kitchen-just big enough for one person-and grab the triangle-shaped rice ball wrapped in a sheet of black seaweed. He got me the salmon one, which is my favorite. I take a bottle of sports drink from the fridge and sit next to him on the hand-me-down couch we got from an expat who was returning home.
"How was the trip?" Bennie asks, eyeing my wrinkled shirt and jeans.
"I'm … " I frown. "I don't know. I saw Lucas."
His eyes widen until it seems like they take up most of his face. "You saw who?"
Bennie knows plenty about Lucas since he was the one who patted my shoulders as I hunched over and cried my eyes out. He also has very strong opinions about Lucas now.
"Lucas." I don't bother to call him an "ex." That's reserved for men who I had real relationships with. "The guy from my fourth year at UVA." I unwrap the food and start nibbling on it.
"Yeah, I remember. The guy who gave you the car. He's here?"
"Chiang Mai. He was, uh, on my flight."