Kimchi & Calamari(38)

As Robyn copied my notes, I noticed Kelly across the room, talking with her friends. I take that back—her friends were listening. Kelly’s lips were moving ninety miles per hour. For a second our eyes locked, but then she looked away, disgusted, like she’d spotted roadkill.

Why had I ever fallen for her? As Gina would say, “She is not nice.”

“Joseph, your worksheet fell,” Robyn said, picking up a piece of paper off the floor.

“Thanks.” I studied Robyn’s hands when she gave it to me. She had perfectly shaped, half-moon fingernails. She wore a silver ring on her pinkie with a dangling peace sign. She was cute, I realized. Funny, I’ve never thought of crazy Robyn that way.

“What is it, Joseph?” Robyn asked. “Your eyes are glazed over like you’ve been hypnotized.”

I snapped out of it. “Nothing. I mean, you look very, um, put together today.”

“And I really like your elbows,” she replied in a deep, throaty voice. “They’re so…bendable.”

I couldn’t help laughing.

As I left study hall, I thought again about going to the Farewell Formal. Only this time it wasn’t Kelly’s hand I imagined I was holding.





Detour on Discovery Road




“If it’s not strep throat, it’s definitely a tumor on my tonsils,” I groaned. I was slumped in Dad’s recliner, wearing an undershirt and boxers.

Mom pressed her hand against my forehead. “You’re not even hot,” she snapped in an unsympathetic voice.

“Don’t you think I’m a little old for schoolitis? Nobody fakes it in June, Mom.”

Finally she gave in. She didn’t sound the official “Stay home from school” decree, but she did say there was plenty of juice in the fridge.

“I’ve got a customer waiting for a cap highlight. I’ll call you later!” she yelled as she clomp-clomped out the door in her platform sandals.

Victory.

My throat did feel a bit scratchy. But more importantly, I had a phone call to make. Dad was visiting college Admissions, but he’d be back by the time school ended, so I wouldn’t have had a chance to talk privately with Jae. “Do, or do not. There is no try.” That’s what Yoda tells Luke in The Empire Strikes Back, and that wrinkly little alien was wise. If I wanted to connect with my birth mother, it was up to me to do it.

Right away I dialed Jae. She sounded happy to hear from me. And thankfully she didn’t ask why I wasn’t in school. She shared a funny story about how Kevin dressed up as a superhero, and naturally I approved. Then I found myself spewing out news about Dad’s accident and how it somehow led him to apply to college. I even told Jae how badly I wanted to take Robyn to the Farewell Formal.

“Ask her, Joseph,” she said in a big-sister voice. “Be polite and sincere—like a gentleman—and I bet she’ll accept.”

“I doubt Robyn would use ‘gentleman’ to describe me, but my best friend Nash says I have a way of charming parents. It’s my Italian upbringing.”

Jae laughed.

What was I thinking with all this chitchat? My phone time was limited. I had to cut to the chase.

I cleared my throat. “Jae, I’ve been thinking about writing to your Aunt Hea,” I said, my voice cracking a little. “Introducing myself and sending my picture. Will you give me her address?”

A pause.

“Do your parents know we’ve talked?” she asked.

“Um, not yet.”

I heard a door slam on Jae’s end.

“Joseph, we’re not sure yet that you’re my aunt’s child. I think we should do some checking before we talk to her.”

Suddenly Jae seemed like another detour on the road to discovery.

“My parents don’t know any more about me than I’ve already told you, and this isn’t exactly their favorite subject,” I explained.

“Would they let you talk with the adoption agency? They must know something more than we do. I wouldn’t dare speak to my aunt unless we were absolutely certain. I just couldn’t.”

“What, the thought of being related to me would put her in shock?” I was only half kidding.

“I know this is exciting for you, Joseph, but it could be difficult for my aunt. We have to be sensitive.”

I didn’t want to hear that. I wanted Jae to say Aunt Hea would be high-fiving everyone in Pusan after she got my letter. That she’d frame my eighth-grade photo and put it on her dresser. Maybe she’d even hop on the next Korean Air flight direct to JFK to meet me.

“If I talk to my parents and the agency, will you tell your aunt about me?” I asked.

Kevin was chanting in the background. “Juice! Juice! Juice!”