There was no way for Thom to open the door, now that she clutched the broken handle. Ma looked around, like she was checking to see if anyone else had seen. Then she reached over and let Thom in.
Before Ma could start, Thom apologized profusely. “I’m so sorry. I was just in a hurry. I want to go home. Can we please just go? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Will it be expensive to fix?”
Ma regarded Thom carefully. “It’s no problem, cưng, we just ask Uncle Kevin to fix it.”
Uncle Kevin wasn’t really Thom’s uncle, just Ma’s good friend. He didn’t know about Thom’s … condition, of course. No one did. Ma called him every few months to ask him to fix something—with the car, the house, or whatever Thom had accidentally broken. He never asked any questions, not even after the time she had reached for a light switch and ripped it clean off the wall instead.
“But Uncle Kevin is in California,” Thom said.
Ma’s face broke for a second, as if she had forgotten they lived in another world now. “Oh, right. No worry. I will take it to different mechanic.”
The good thing about Ma was that she could always tell when something was upsetting Thom, but she didn’t ask questions, didn’t probe. Thankfully, she turned on the radio and began driving.
She hummed a ballad as Thom buckled her seat belt. The car lurched forward as Ma shifted gears to exit the parking lot. No one drove a manual these days, which according to Ma, made it the ultimate antitheft device, since no one knew how to drive a manual anymore. To Thom, it only meant lurchy car rides on top of her mom’s questionable driving techniques and angry outbursts at other drivers.
“How was your day, cưng?” she said.
“Ma.” Thom felt the need to look over her shoulder, even though the windows were closed and no one could have heard. “I told you not to call me that when we’re at school.”
“Why? You’re my sweetie, aren’t you?” At the stoplight, she kissed Thom on the forehead, grabbed her chin, and tilted her face up to look into her eyes. “What’s wrong? Something happen? Who you beat up today?”
This was a running joke Ma thought was hilarious because Thom was so small.
“Funny,” Thom muttered through the lump in her throat. “Ma…” She looked down at her hands. “Do you think…” She couldn’t finish the question.
“What is it, cưng?”
Thom’s vision blurred around the edges. “What would happen if I … quit the … soccer team?” It had never been an option before, not only because she’d loved soccer too much to consider it, but because Ma never let her quit anything.
Ma was quiet for a long time. “You want to quit?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“But you love soccer.”
She still loved it. But it wasn’t the same here. Not without her friends.
“Why?” Ma asked.
Thom wanted to tell Ma about the bullying, the teasing, the laughing. But Ma wouldn’t understand those as reasons to quit. She would just tell Thom to ignore it, and point out that one day Thom would be a doctor while those girls flipped burgers or whatever. Even though Thom was deathly afraid of needles.
“I just don’t like it,” she said.
“What you mean? You play since you were nine, remember? With Thuy and your friends. I even buy you new shoes! You wanted the ones that go clippety-clop so much.”
Thom looked out the window, pressing her lips together.
“Maybe give it a few more months, hah?” Ma said. “Finish the season. And next year if you don’t want to play anymore, you don’t try out again.”
Thom bit the inside of her cheek and nodded.
5
WHEN THEY GOT BACK TO the house, Ma reached for Thom’s lunch pack, frowning at its weight.
“You didn’t eat the food I make for you?”
Thom reached down to pet Mochi, but he shied away just as her fingers brushed his fur. “Um, no. I bought pizza from the cafeteria instead.”
“Why?” Ma took out the bento box full of rice. “I told you not to waste food. You don’t like it?”
Thom grabbed Mochi’s leash. “It’s just … no one else brings lunch from home,” she lied. Other kids brought food, too, but no one else brought bento boxes with five different side dishes.
Ma frowned as she dumped the food into the trash. “You didn’t even eat the meat, cưng. That’s precious. In Vietnam, we never get to eat meat like this, you know. Such a waste.” She tsked. “You can’t eat greasy American food all day—it’s not healthy.”
“Can I bring, like, sandwiches and stuff? Or maybe”—Thom gulped—“salad?”
“Salad?” Ma grimaced, looking as horrified as Thom felt. “You don’t like rice?”
“I like it,” Thom said quickly. “Just not for school.” She looked away from Ma’s confused expression. “I’ll eat extra for dinner.”
Ma turned to the sink, so Thom couldn’t read her expression. “Okay then,” she said, but Thom couldn’t tell if it was a good okay or a bad okay.
She left with Mochi on their walk before Ma could ask her any more questions. Thom didn’t hate rice, or Asian food in general, but most of the time, the dishes were stinky, and other kids always stared at whatever she’d brought. Maybe someone would sit and eat with her if she brought something less Asian, or if she ate whatever the cafeteria served.
It was four in the afternoon, and the sun was blazing hot. Thom squinted and shielded her eyes with a hand, letting Mochi tug her down the sidewalk. Moisture clung to Thom’s skin, making the air feel even hotter. She swatted a mosquito that buzzed and landed on her arm, then almost swallowed a gnat. This place was the worst.
As she walked on the grass beside her next-door neighbor’s house, Thom saw something out of the corner of her eye. Something big and shiny, fluttering in the wind. Or maybe the bright sun was playing tricks on her eyes. But she could have sworn she saw it dart around the bushes that separated the two properties.
A snake maybe?
No way. It was at eye level, and it was too large to be a snake. But it was white and shiny and definitely looked like it had scales.
“Come on, Mochi,” she whispered, pulling him toward the fence. She knew she shouldn’t walk on private property, but the house had been empty since Thom and her mother had moved in. Except now, the FOR SALE sign was down.
Maybe someone had moved in.
There. Something shimmered again, like off the inside of a mother-of-pearl shell, just above the fence. But that was impossible. Snakes couldn’t fly, could they?
She shuddered, but moved deeper into the yard, too curious to be scared. Mochi whimpered but followed, close to her feet, almost tripping her. Something blue darted behind the house, and Thom rushed forward, with Mochi breaking into a run. When she and Mochi came around the corner, the backyard was empty. She searched the grass, but it had recently been cut, too short to hide much of anything.
She stopped and looked at her dog, who panted, sticking out his tongue. Must have been her imagination after all.
Before she could leave, the door opened. A boy about her age stepped onto the porch and stared at her.