Good afternoon all!
“So you’re in love with a boy,” Summer said and let the last word draw out as if she had a secret and teasing me with it.
“Who doesn’t have time for love?” Summer giggles.
I wished that were true. But it wasn’t just about time, was it? It was about finding the person who was willing to give their everything for you. And you for them. Something that had never happened to me.
It takes work to be the world’s worst assistant.
It requires the same nerve and dedication as writing a book and asking your boss, a comedic icon and celebrated writer, to write the foreword and then following it up with drivel.
If you bought this book specifically for the foreword, I don’t blame you. I realize what a mistake it was to ask someone who was two-time president of the Harvard Lampoon, a writer on Saturday Night Live, a writer on The Simpsons, and a four-time Emmy winner to write the lead-in to this book. I have done none of those things, but the good news is I get paid for this book and he doesn’t. So I win.
I take pride in knowing that my book has already peaked.
I reach out and caress the face of the the boy I’m supposed to love.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you, too,” he replies, his voice all quiet and tender.
“I’ve had feelings for you for a long time.”
On TV, Bryan Yoon is usually so goofy and cute, but now, when he’s absolutely serious, his gentle eyes have a magnetic pull to them that’s hard to resist. This kind of star power is probably the reason why millions of girls all over the world have posters of Bryan and the other members of NOVA, one of the top K-pop boy bands in the world right now. And why even ahjummas like my mom and her friends are members of their fan café.
I know why I’m supposed to have feelings for him, but in the end, what really gets my heart racing is the thought of Korean fried chicken.
You’re not in Kansas anymore. It was the kind of one-liner that immediately made Justice Wilson write people off as boring and unoriginal, but now she couldn’t help but say it to herself. She was halfway around the world, and she liked it.
The tropics swarmed in as soon as the plane doors opened. Wet, humid air that turned walking into swimming, and palm trees whipping in the wind like they were trying to lure customers in to buy a used car. When she’d left Kansas City this morning, or last night, or whenever it was that she’d gotten on the first plane, the hue of the sky matched the concrete, the people were pale, and everything was cold. Now, she was surrounded by heat and a riot of colour. Turquoise sky, emerald leaves, people with golden-brown skin, airline employees dressed in bright florals with flowers tucked behind their ears or pinned on their shirt. It was the kind of place Justice had always dreamed of, but dang, was it hot.