The Language Inside (25 page)

like hip-hop and stuff?
I say

yeah

and stuff
he says

we walk to the street

where he’s parked the car

and I get in the passenger side

and shut my door

and all at once

the space feels close

our breath fogging the windshield

seat belts sliding over jackets

Sam turning the key

in the ignition

he pulls onto the road

turns up the fan heater

maneuvers the car

through an intersection

Madoka would never believe this—

me in a car being driven

by a seventeen-year-old guy

I want to ask him to drive me anywhere

               except YiaYia’s

but I don’t think that would sound quite right

I tell Sam about the disaster

of a session I had with Zena

how I didn’t think someone

who can only use her eyes

could make me feel so stupid

he tells me that some days are like that

Zena’s not always sweet

the other guy walked out on her twice

eyes show a lot
he adds

Cambodian dancers smile

with just their eyes

and I straighten, alert

that’s the kind of dance you do?

Cambodian?

yeah—folk and classical

plus hip-hop

cool
I say, not knowing exactly

what Cambodian dance is

but thinking of an Indonesian dancer

who performed at the art museum by the shrine

and Thai dancers at the international school last year

               their fingers extending back

               their hands fluid, dancing

Sam says

the dance troupe’s great

it keeps me in line

then real quick

he changes topics

next week I can drive you to the Newall Center

just meet me in the school parking lot

and my face goes hot

as I say
thanks

wondering

               does this mean more

               than just a ride?

then I remember

actually I can’t go next week—

my mom’s surgery

oh, right
he says

and I want him to say more

or stop the car so we can talk

without jumping topic to topic

without me blathering

because just thinking of that day

and what they’ll do to her

makes me breathe too fast

but Sam’s quiet

headlights and streetlights flash past

and soon we’re at the intersection

where we turn into YiaYia’s neighborhood

and when he slows in front of the house

YiaYia’s already peering out the window

I say
thanks
and step out

knowing I’ll soon hear

for the third time this afternoon

you’re late

Thursday afternoon at Model UN

my partner, Monica

says Jae-Sun told her

I like one of the gymnasts

gymnasts?
I ask

she says
yeah

that Vietnamese dude

the one who’s really good—

like, one of the best on the team

oh
I say
you mean Sam?

he’s Cambodian

oh, well, I was close

anyway, do you?

what?
I say

like him?
Monica says

and fortunately I don’t have to answer

because just then we are meeting all together again

to go over position papers

and Jae-Sun is within earshot

that night after dinner I’m watching TV with Toby

when I get a text

it’s Sam—

and I don’t know if I’m just tired

from the longer run I did after school

adding an extra loop at the end

or stressing about the surgery or what

but Sam’s words make me tear up

what?
Toby asks

when he sees me wipe my eyes

he hits the remote

drops the volume

but I can’t speak

what?
he says