“Yeah, and in a few months, I’ll have saved enough to buy my own condo. We’ll see who’s laughing then.”

Trish got out of the car. Lex leaned against the trunk while Trish spoke to AAA on her cell phone.

One of their cousins, her husband, and their two children exited the restaurant. Things must be wrapping up inside.

As the family passed Lex and Trish, their cousin gave Lex a guarded look – the kind young mothers give to the snake exhibit at the zoo as they hustle the kids past. Her husband also gave only an abbreviated wave as they bolted for their car, dragging the kids after them.

Lex straightened. Trish did too. “Did you see -?”

An old aunty and uncle also walked out the restaurant doors. As they hustled past Lex and Trish, Aunty gave Lex a weighty, disapproving look just before she sniffed and stuck her nose in the air.

Trish gasped and thumped her car trunk. “That old bat…”

Lex looked away. Why did Aunty’s look cut her so deeply, when with other people, like at work and volleyball, she really couldn’t care less what they thought? A single look from one of the women in her family struck her an almost physical blow, like a mallet pounding sweet rice grains into mochi. Lex felt soft and bruised. Was she really that strange to everyone?

Stop that. There’s nothing wrong with you. Lex shook off her mood. She was strong and stubborn, and she didn’t care who she offended. “I don’t want to just give in to Grandma. I don’t like being forced.”

“Yeah, but how much do your girls mean to you?”

Lex sighed. “The other day, one of the girls’ moms came up to me and told me she was so excited the girls could go traveling for playoffs because she hadn’t been able to afford it when my mom coached her in high school. How am I going to tell her that the girls won’t be able to go if Grandma pulls funding in four months?”

Trish didn’t say anything.

“At the same time, how can I meekly walk into Mariko’s wedding with a boyfriend on my arm, like a good little granddaughter?”

Trish fingered the filmy chiffon of her dress. “Do you… do you think you’re ready to date?”

Lex tensed at her gentle tone, while at the same time, a restless quivering started in her hands and just under her ribcage. “Yeah, I think so.”

“We could tell Grandma about – ”

“No. We’re not telling anyone about it. It was eight years ago.”

Trish blinked at her harsh tone.

Lex immediately deflated. “I’m sorry – ”

“No, don’t be. I understand.”

Of course. More than anyone, Trish understood. She’d stood by Lex through everything – the hospital, the police report, the three years of counseling – when none of the other family even knew it had happened. It relieved Lex to have Trish be with her whenever she needed her. “Actually, it might not be too bad.”

Trish looked at her as if she’d said she could fly. “Oookay.”

“No, really. I’ll ask Kin-Mun on a date.”

Trish’s eyes bugged out of her head. “No way! Finally.”

“See? Desperation does wonderful things to my level of chutzpah.”

A thoughtful look settled on her face. “Do you think he’ll go out with you? You guys have been friends for decades – ”

“Don’t you be bashing my age. You’re only three months younger.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. My point -?”

Lex shoved aside the niggling of doubt that had settled south of her stomach. It nagged like Grandma. “I’ve just never given him the chance to think of me as someone other than his bud.”

Trish took a second to absorb that. “Um… okay.”

“And in the meantime, I’ll ask some family friends if they’ll sponsor the girls’ team. Then I won’t have to worry about Grandma pulling funding.”

“Do you really think you could? You’re not a businesswoman like Grandma. She’s used to pulling money from rocks – ”

“Whenever I put my mind to something, I do it. I can be logical and charming at the same time.”

Trish kept her face solidly neutral.

“I can be charming.” Lex glared at her.

Trish blinked but didn’t speak.

“How hard can it be?”

Trish guffawed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Great game, guys.” Lex slapped hands with the last member of the team they had just creamed and walked off the volleyball court.

She dodged players from the other court as they sought out their gym bags, and finally snagged some floor space next to hers. She tugged at her shoelaces as she craned her neck, searching for Kin-Mun.

There, his team was still playing on the far court.

The ref briefly removed her whistle. “Last point!” She sent a piercing blast and signaled the serve.

Kin-Mun, in the middle back, passed the difficult floater serve as if it dropped right in his arms. The setter sent the ball arcing to the strong side-hitter, who whaled on it -

Right into the other team’s perfectly timed, perfectly setup block. Bam! The ball came back faster than the player hit it, landing on the sideline. The line judge signaled it was in. Point and game over.

Dummy! Lex yelled at her distracted self. She should have been taking off her shoes while watching the play. She scrambled to undo her double-knotted laces while keeping an eye on Kin-Mun as he circled with his team for a “Team rah!” and then filed in a line to slap hands with the other team. He beelined for his gym bag and sat on the floor to take off his shoes.

Lex finally undid her laces and tugged her shoes off. She shoved her feet into her street sneakers and leaped to stand up.

Where had he gone? He’d been right there a second ago.

“Lex, great game.”

She dashed a passing glance to her teammate as he walked past her with his bag slung over his shoulder. “Yeah, you too.” Where was Kin-Mun?

Oh, there, talking to Lex’s team captain, Jill. Lex picked up her gym bag.

What would she do, ask him out in front of everybody? She hadn’t thought of that. She’d have to wait until they all went outside to their cars, where she and Kin-Mun would have semi-privacy. The plan had seemed so easy two days ago, at Saturday’s Red Egg and Ginger party.

Until then, she’d stick to him like gum on his shoe.

“Hey, Kin-Mun. Jill.”

“Lex, I was asking Kin-Mun if he’d play with us at the Vegas tournament in a few months. Can you play, too? No one sets him like you do.”

Lex shrugged. “Sure, I’ll play. Email me.”

“Let me check my work schedule first.” Kin-Mun’s unusually deep voice growled in the noisy gym. Lex had to move in to hear him better.

“No prob. Thanks, guys.” Jill drifted away.

“I hope I can play.” Kin-Mun sat down to tug off his volleyball shoes. “’Cuz then Jill can set me instead of you.” He roared with laughter.

“Very funny. I’ll tell her you like your sets low and tight to the net so the blocker will stuff it down your face.”

“Aw, you’re so mean.” He rose and picked up his bag.

Excellent. Maybe she could hustle him out of the gym early. “Going out to eat?” Lex started ambling toward the door.

“Yeah… Where’s my ball?” Kin-Mun wove his way toward the folded-up bleachers, examining balls lying on the floor.

Lex went to the other side and helped him search. Anything to get him out to his car faster. She spotted the faded blue Sharpie graphic he’d drawn over the “Tachikara” emblem. “Here it is.”

“Thanks.” Kin-Mun put the ball into his bag, then dropped back down to the floor to stretch.

Stretch?!

Lex could have a cow or just be patient for once. She dropped to the floor next to him.

They were a little removed from the other players, out of earshot if she spoke low. “Hey, Kin-Mun – ”

“Hi guys.” Robyn walked up to them. “Will you buy magazine subscriptions for my son’s fundraiser?”

Another interruption. She’d never ask him out at this rate. “Sure.” Lex fumbled in her bag for her purse. The faster she paid Robyn, the faster she’d leave them.