The Fold Read Free Page B

shirt that he owned. The only thing she hadn’t been able to do was muster up the nerve to stare him in the eyes. Just the idea of it made her want to bolt from the room screaming. Joyce could hardly focus on the instructions that Mr. Blevins was giving them about how to properly store the beakers and pipettes. Luckily, Lynn, her lab partner, was good about stuff like that. She glanced at Lynn, who was squinting in concentration.
    There were a few dozen Asian students at the school, a half dozen in her year, and she had shared a class withalmost all of them, but she had never been partnered with one of them before. Lynn Song was the embodiment of the stereotypical Asian student. She wore thick glasses that made her already slim eyes look even narrower. Her stringy straight hair was cut into a harsh line straight across her back and hung in her face most of the time. Her radar for fashion was completely turned off, not to mention that she sported old-fashioned metal braces instead of the clear ceramic ones that weren’t nearly as offensive. Lynn was nice, but even Joyce found herself trying not to laugh sometimes when Lynn was being especially earnest about a question.
    Lynn and Joyce cleaned up their set of beakers, working like the good team that they were. Joyce dried while Lynn scrubbed.
    “Do you have any plans for summer?” Joyce asked Lynn, trying to keep her mind off her bigger task. Joyce had planned to ask John to sign her yearbook at the end of class.
    “I’m taking this accelerated summer science program at Cal Tech,” Lynn said, pushing her glasses up and focusing on the beaker in her hands. Lynn’s hair kept falling into her face, making her look slightly deranged. Joyce wanted to hand her a rubber band to tie back the mess.
    “That sounds fun,” Joyce said, watching John cross the room to his desk.
    “Are you crazy?” Lynn glanced up from her task. “I think it’s going to be hell, but my guidance counselor thought it would make my apps for college stronger.”
    Joyce dropped the paper towel to conceal her embarrassment and bent down to retrieve it.
    “I just mean it’ll be fun to meet other people who aren’t from this school,” Joyce said, standing up.
    “Yeah, that’s for sure,” Lynn said, her eyes following two guys throwing paper balls at each other. “Hopefully there won’t be as many losers.”
    Joyce smiled. She had to give it to Lynn. No matter how bad she might look, Lynn honestly didn’t care what other people thought. She was bent on a specific Ivy League school, and everything she did was to achieve her goal. Her quiet confidence made Joyce wish she could ask for Lynn’s secret formula.
    They finished up silently and placed the clean beakers back into the cabinet. Joyce turned around and surveyed the room for John. He was sitting on top of his desk talking to one of his friends. He always had someone who wanted to talk to him. Even though he was Asian, he looked and acted like everyone else. Like someone who belonged in this school, in thisneighborhood, with all these students. Not an immigrant that moved into the area or faked an address to attend one of the best schools in Orangedale. Maybe it was because he was only half Asian and looked like some movie star. Or maybe it was because he knew he had an exotic model mother who probably didn’t cook kimchee ji-geh at home, stinking up the entire house. Joyce wandered back to her desk to retrieve her yearbook. And if John’s mom didn’t cook Korean food, then John’s dad had to get his Korean food fix somehow because Koreans can’t live without their food. The addictive combination of garlic, chili and salt must be imprinted on Koreans from birth. Maybe John’s father came to their restaurant to get his Korean food fix. Would Joyce be able to spot John Ford Kang’s father if she saw him?
    Joyce glanced up at the clock. It was time. She pulled more of her hair forward over the zit and took a deep breath. As she walked to