Frankly in Love (Frankly in Love, #1)(37)

I try to help, but Mom shoos me away. “Go play,” she says.

“Yeah, go play,” says Brit, and draws a long line of soapsuds down my forearm. She gives me a look like Can you believe I’m washing dishes with your mom?

The fake dating, this fake barbecue, all of it on paper equals me lying to Brit. All of it equals me treating my gentle, smart, kind girl bad. I know this, but I find it easy to pretend otherwise for now—because look at them, washing dishes like this. This must count for something in the long run. Right?



* * *



? ? ?

Everyone leaves at the same time. I walk them outside; Mom stands in her apron, waving from the porch.

“Thank you, Mrs. Li,” says Q.

“You welcome, Q,” says Mom.

“That was so amazing just the way the barbecue was marinated so perfectly and all those dishes must have taken you forever to make but they were totally worth it,” says Amelie Shin as she vanishes into Q’s car along with the rest of the Apeys.

“? ?????,” says Brit out of nowhere. Chal mogosumnida is the proper way to thank a host after a meal: I ate well, thank you.

“Holy shit,” I say.

“Oh,” cries Mom. “You speaking Korean?”

“Well,” says Brit. Now it’s her turn to blush. “The Internet does.”

“????,” says Mom. Cheonmanaeyo. You’re welcome.

Brit gives me a sly smirk. I frown and arch an eyebrow, impressed. Who studies vocab the night before a date?

A nerd. A beautiful nerd.

Q toots a farewell toot. As he backs out of the driveway, there’s Dad, pulling into the driveway. Dad gets out in time to wave hi-bye at Q’s car full of Apeys. Then he turns toward the house and sees me, sees Brit.

“Hey, Dad,” I say. “How was The Store?”

“Oh, same-o same,” says Dad, which is his version of same-old, same-old. He smiles at Brit. “Nice see you again.” And he heads into the house.

Brit and I look at each other like That went better this time.

“I’m gonna walk Brit to her car,” I say.

“Very be careful,” says Mom.

“It’s fifty feet,” I say.

When Brit and I walk the ten paces to her car, the urge to throw my arm around her waist almost sends me into shouting floor spasms. She smiles. But she’s quiet. I dare a glance at the front doorway: Mom is gone, leaving only an empty orange rectangle of light. So I hook an index finger and tip Brit’s chin up to face me.

“Hey,” I say. “You’re my favorite, did you know that?”

Brit takes my hand in hers. I check to make sure it’s not visible from the front door.

“I know what I’m up against,” says Brit, because Brit Means is not stupid.

But I pretend anyway. “What do you mean?”

“I know your mom wishes you were with Joy.”

“Did she say something to you?”

“She didn’t have to,” says Brit, playing with the thick part between my thumb and forefinger. “But man, she really, really wishes it. She knows Joy’s with Wu, right?”

“She doesn’t, because I’m pretending to date Joy to hide you from Mom-n-Dad.”

I of course say no such thing. Part of me wants to just do it. But I think about how much those words would hurt Brit, so I leave them unsaid. Instead I say: “I’m sorry about Mom. It’s such bullshit.”

“It’s okay,” says Brit. “It’s just—you’ve seen how my family is. I’m not used to being held at a safe distance. And look at me. I’m as safe as safe bets get.”

“You’re way better than safe,” I say. “I so want to kiss you.”

“Me too, frankly.”

“Here we are, wanting to kiss, and we can’t. I’m sorry.”

We stare at each other for five otherworldly seconds. Five seconds on Venus.

“Can you bear with the bullshit?” I say. “I promise you it’ll be worth it.”

I’m saying it to myself, too. I promise all this gem swapping, all this deceit upon deceit, will be worth it.

“As long as we’re honest about what we’re dealing with,” she says, all trust and smiles, and gets into her car to drive away.

Her word honest slithers up my pant leg like a vine of shame. Her car slides around the corner and fades away. I stand there as the night increases its volume around me.

My phone buzzes. It’s Joy.

Everything okay?

I survived, I say.

I’m sorry

Not your fault! Can’t avoid the physics of parental forces.

Joy types for a while, then says: Everything would be so much easier if only we just actually liked each other lol “If only,” I say.





chapter 14


more true



5PM

J+F: DEBRIEFING

6PM

J: DINNER (LOCATION TBD)

F: WE ALL SCREAM FOR ICE CREAM EXHIBIT @ THE HENRY GALLERY

8PM

J: SKEEBALL TOURNAMENT @ GAMEDOME

F: BEACH

11PM RETURN TO BASE

Making the drop is kind of a pain this time around—apparently Wu’s decided on a Cheese Barrel Grille right behind the very place I’m taking Brit, this pop-up art event thing called We All Scream for Ice Cream. I let Joy out of the car.