Page 12 of Next Time Will Be Our Turn
Uh-oh. When Iris told me not to disclose the fact that I’m a FOB, she hadn’t bothered to expand on it, and I hadn’t thought of asking for clarification in certain situations, for example, when someone asks me where I’m from, what should I say?What should I say?Oh god, I’d stayed quiet for far too long. My anxiety bubbled over until the answer burped out of me. “America!”
Ellery raised her eyebrows at me. “Okay, smart-ass. Which part?”
Oh my god. Which part? Who the hell knows? How many parts are there in America?
“New York.” I didn’t know why I said New York, except that I’d watched enough episodes ofFriendsto know what New York City was. (It was a city where everyone was super cool. That was all I knew.)
“You don’t strike me as a New Yorker.”
Ohhh my god. My intestines turned into snakes, and the snakes were really not getting along with each other.
“New Yorkers are usually so snotty, and the first thing they do after revealing that they’re from New York is always to remind you that LA sucks, and—”
“I’m not from New York!” I said it so fast it came out like it was one single word: “I’mnotfromNewYork!”
Ellery stopped talking. Then she said, “I think I know where you’re really from.”
“Oh?” I wondered if we were going slow enough for me to simply jump out of the moving car right now.
“Let’s see. It’s gotta be someplace you’re not proud of. Someplace with a lot of fucked-up people.” She glanced at me appraisingly. “Florida?”
I squashed down the hysterical laughter threatening to come out of me. She thought I was American! Ah! Also, should I be from Florida?
“Texas? Nah, you don’t sound Texan. Unless you’re actually hiding a Texan twang. Are you hiding your real accent?”
She was right about me hiding my real accent, but shethought my real accent was Texan, and it was so surreal that I very nearly laughed out loud. “I am.”
“Really?” Her grin widened. “C’mon, let’s hear it. I wanna hear the famous Texan twang.”
I had no idea what that would sound like, and all I knew in this moment was that lying to Ellery felt so shitty. “I’m not from Texas. I’m from Indonesia.”
“Whoa. Seriously?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“No, why’re you sorry?”
“Because I said I’m from America. And I’m not.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at her.
“Oh. Well, that’s okay. I would’ve totally bought it though. You sound totally American.” There was not a single trace of anger or judgment in her voice.
“We speak English in Indonesia. Well, not everyone does, but the school I went to was a Singaporean school, so we spoke English all the time.”
“That’s so cool. Do you also speak, uh…Indo-lese? I don’t know, what do you speak there?”
“Indonesian. Yeah, I do. And Chinese.”
“You speak three languages? Damn!”
“Most Chinese-Indonesians do.”
“Wow. Most Americans only speak one language, and not very well,” Ellery said. “I only speak English. Always wished I could speak another language though.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Very handy when you want to bitch about things in public.”
“I bet it is. Oh, parking spot!” Ellery swung into an emptyspace on the side of the street and looked at me, her eyes dancing. “You’re my lucky charm.”
Not just any lucky charm, but specificallyherlucky charm. I swear, in that moment, every bone in my body turned into molten liquid. But that was the thing with Ellery. She had no idea about the power of her word choice. Already, she was sliding out of the car, whistling, not even looking in my direction. She didn’t know that one word she just said had set my soul on fire.
