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Authors: Jean Kwok

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She shrugged and hung it back. “Your choice, your life. But you know what you should do? Ask him to go for that scholarship with you.”

I tried not to look as shocked as I felt. “The one for fifteen grand? Aren’t you and Simone doing it?”

“Simone is. She’s already working on something with Keith. But I don’t have anyone who’s willing to dance with me, I’ve tried. So the studio only has one couple in that competition right now and the truth is, none of my students would have a snowball’s chance in hell against Keith anyway.”

“Come on, if your students are outclassed, what kind of odds would Ryan and I have?”

Nina said cheerfully, “None. Not really. But wouldn’t it be fun? And you wouldn’t have to worry about school figures and keeping him in the proper alignment. You could just do a little routine together. I can tell you, you’ll both improve like crazy if you prepare for a competition.”

I’d heard that before. “I’ll have to think about it.”


We were supposed to hear about the Hunter test near the end of February, but although Lisa ran to check the mailbox every day, there was no letter. The days passed. Then Lisa came home and said that Fabrizio hadn’t gotten in. Was this a good sign or a bad one? Were they sending rejections first? We didn’t know. Maybe something had gone wrong with her test. Then Hannah’s letter arrived. She hadn’t been admitted either and was bitterly disappointed. But we still didn’t receive anything.

I phoned Mr. Song at school and when I explained the problem, he said, “I’ll check with Hunter but I don’t think you need to worry yet. Although they give a certain day as the notification date, it’s quite common that some letters are delayed.” He called me back later to say that we should be expecting the news very soon now.

I didn’t even care if Lisa had been accepted or not anymore, I just wanted the whole ordeal to be over. She’d started chewing on the ends of her sleeves, so that I found tiny holes in her shirts near the wrists.

Then, on Saturday, more than a week after we were supposed to have received the notification, Lisa came hurtling upstairs with a thin letter in her hand. It had the purple Hunter logo in the corner. Pa and I came running.

“Well?!” I said.

“I can’t open it, I’m too scared. I’m going to throw up. Charlie, quick, you do it.” Lisa tossed the sealed letter at me as if it were burning her fingers.

With Pa leaning heavily on my shoulder, I ripped the envelope open and read, “Congratulations, you have been—”

Lisa and I both shrieked. She leapt into my arms and we hugged while Pa wrapped his arms around both of us.

“I can’t believe it,” she panted. “All those other kids.”

“You deserve it,” I said. “I’m so happy for you.”

“But,” said Pa, drawing away, “I haven’t decided yet if Lisa will accept or not.”

We both froze.

He continued, “There is the long train ride to the school, and maybe it will be too hard for her. I still don’t like it that it’s out of Chinatown. All of these problems started with this whole Hunter thing.”

I read the rest of the letter. “Since we heard so late, we have to decide within a week. They have an event called Hunter Day next Tuesday, that’s just a few days away. Students and parents are invited to attend. Then we need to make a final decision by Friday.”

Pa said, “You go, Charlie.”

“I bet I can go to work later that day. But you should accompany us, Pa. Then you can see what the school really is.”

“No. It’s not for me. I will ask Uncle Henry if he can go.”

“No,” Lisa said, “I don’t want him.”

I said, “Pa, Lisa and I can go alone. We don’t need to drag Aunt and Uncle into this. But I think it’d really help if you came too.”

Pa was shaking his head. “I have to work that day.” And he left the room.


On Monday, I went to Uncle’s office while Lisa was at school. It was still early so things were quiet. Aunt Monica had her coat on and was just about to go out, leaving Dennis at the desk. Her gaze dismissed me when she realized I wasn’t a patient, then she swiveled back to stare. “What have you done to yourself?”

I’d been careful to wear my old clothing. “Nothing. Why?” Dennis was examining me too, only in a nicer way.

She came around the desk and circled me. “You have changed.” It was clear she didn’t mean this in a positive way. “Did you use the love spell the Vision gave you?”

“No!” I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

Dennis said, “You’re looking well, Charlie. Are you sure you have everything you need, Mrs. Wong?”

I shot him a grateful look while Aunt Monica said, “Yes. I’m glad to leave the office in such good hands, Dennis. See you tomorrow.”

After she left, I said, “I’ve never seen her go home early before.”

“She’s enjoying her freedom. She usually leaves nowadays when it’s quiet, or when both Lisa and I are here.”

I found it easier to talk to him now that we were alone. “How do you like it so far?”

He had a nice smile. “I love it. I’m learning so much from your uncle. Hey, did you come to see him? He’s in the back.”

I found Uncle sitting alone in his office, sorting through some papers. When he saw me, he took off his reading glasses. “Charlie.”

“Uncle, I wanted to talk to you about Pa. Did he tell you Lisa got into Hunter?”

He smiled. “Yes, he called me. He was very proud, and concerned too.”

“I know, that’s why I came. Can you please help convince him to come visit the school with me tomorrow? I want him to make the decision based upon knowledge, not fear, that’s all.”

Uncle hesitated. “You know how your pa is. He hates going to those kinds of events. I can see if I can make time—”

“Oh no.” I remembered Lisa’s face when this had come up. “You’re much too busy and important, Uncle. Anyway, Pa is the one who needs to decide.”

“You are exactly right. A parent knows what is right for the child, and maybe he has a point. No one we know has ever gone there. She is a young, innocent girl. She’ll need to be on the subways a great deal, she’ll be doing things much farther from home: meeting new people, interacting with strangers.”

I stared at him, irritated. “It’s one of the best schools in the country.”

“That’s not the point, Charlie. I supported her taking the test, remember? Though I confess I hadn’t really thought she would be admitted, I did want to give her the opportunity. I thought studying for that test would help her in school. But your pa wants to keep her safe. Now that she’s proven she has the brains, she can go far no matter where she is. If she stays in Chinatown, I give you my word I’ll help train her to the best of my ability here.”

My jaw was tight with anger. I thought of the way Uncle had only wanted a son. “It’d be different if she were a boy, wouldn’t it?”

He sighed. “Yes, but not because I think she can do less than a boy. It’s only that, as a girl, she’s more vulnerable.”

I struggled to find my voice. “Have you been talking to Pa?”

“Some. But in the end, your pa knows best for his daughter.”


I stormed into the noodle restaurant. Mr. Hu stared at me as I marched into the kitchen. Pa was using his long bamboo pole set in the wall to press out a large ball of dough.

“Charlie, what—”

“You need to come with me tomorrow. I don’t care what anyone else says. You are her father and you need to give this school a fair chance.”

Pa dropped the pole and wiped his hands on his apron. “I never attend these things.”

“That’s exactly right, which is why you owe it to Lisa to go now. You owe it to me.” I was breathing hard. Everyone had stopped working and was staring at us. “You never came to a single one of the meetings at my school. No one was ever there for me. All those years, I had such a hard time and you did not come. Then with Lisa, I did my best for her but I’m not her parent. You are. I wish I could make the decisions for her but I can’t. It’s not fair that I do all the work and then you get to decide. I know you’re scared and ashamed. That’s too bad. You need to put Lisa first, the way you should have done for me.”

Tears threatened to brim over. Through a haze, I saw Mr. Hu and the other workers’ faces. Pa had bowed his head. He said weakly, “But I have to work . . .”

Mr. Hu said, “Go.”

Pa looked up. “All right. I will come.” He came up to me and put an arm around my shoulder, but I was still too upset and shrugged it off. Blinking rapidly, I walked out of the noodle restaurant with my head held high.


The next day, Pa, Lisa and I took the subway uptown to the high school. Pa had put on his best shirt and a wrinkled blazer underneath his worn coat. He looked smaller and frailer outside of Chinatown, with his shoulders hunched and his face down. He shook his head as he saw the beer bottles littering the basketball court we passed on the way to the school. Lisa seemed nervous and awed. But I’d learned to navigate in the outside world now. I walked firmly into the building, which looked like a red brick castle, then gave the guard our information and she directed us upstairs, along with the other parents and kids.

Again, the parents were separated from the students. Lisa gave us a little wave as she headed downstairs to the cafeteria for her tour of the school. Pa craned his neck to follow her until she was out of sight. Then we were sent into the auditorium, which was spacious and imposing, filled with plush red seats. I linked Pa’s arm through mine and led him to a seat near the front, where we’d be able to hear everyone well. All of the seats had slips of blank paper and pens on them. Quickly, the entire auditorium filled.

Some people were as posh and well dressed as the students at the dance studio, but some looked just like us. I could tell Pa was surprised that there were many other Asians there. Then a lot of official people stepped onto the stage. They approached the microphone one by one. First, they congratulated us all, then introduced themselves. They were named doctor this and doctor that. One was
the principal, one was head of admissions, others were chairs of the different departments. I could tell Pa was too intimidated to follow what they were saying. Thankfully, they kept that part short and then, to my surprise, a bunch of kids walked onto the stage. They were students at the school and those kids ran the rest of the meeting.

One East Indian girl asked the audience to write down our questions on the pieces of paper we’d found on our seats. I wanted to write, “Will Lisa be happy here?” Pa and I couldn’t think of anything else so we didn’t submit a question, but lots of other parents did. The slips were collected and brought up to the front, then the kids took turns answering the questions.

An African-American boy talked about how he took the train two hours each way for his commute. An older Chinese girl answered a question about how much homework they had—a lot, she said, laughing, but there was still enough time for clubs and fun too. A white girl explained the way security worked at the school. I sneaked a glance at Pa and he was listening intently.

Then the parent associations came up to speak. An older Chinese woman approached the microphone and told us she was the head of the Chinese-American Parents Association and would be glad to talk to any interested parents about any concerns they might have. The head of the Korean-American Parents Association spoke next and mentioned that they held a banquet every year with great food. I saw Pa smile.

When we met up with Lisa again, she was bubbling over. “They have an arts club, and a chess club, and band, and so many different newspapers . . .”

“Slow down,” I said, glad to see her so exuberant. “Did you like the school?”

“It’s amazing!” Her eyes shone. “You should see their science
rooms, the equipment they have, and they have so many extracurriculars. The best thing was, the other kids talked the way I do.”

Pa asked, “What do you mean?”

“Well, like, I always make sure I don’t use too many big words because the other kids will think I’m weird. But the girl leading us around sounded just like me!”

I said, “Did you make any friends?”

“Yeah! One person said to me, ‘Hey, what’s up?’” She beamed.

I laughed. “Well, that’s a start.”

Lisa said, “We can sign up right now if we want. The forms are by the auditorium. We just need Pa’s signature.”

We both turned to him. He asked Lisa, “Do you want to go here?”

“Yes. Please say yes.”

My heart ached to see the hope in her eyes.

“I should really speak to Uncle about this first,” Pa began. “It’s such a big decision.”

“Uncle said that it was your decision.” I mentally crossed all of my fingers and toes for luck. “He said a parent feels what is right for his child.”

Pa studied Lisa’s glowing face, then smiled. “Let’s go find those forms.”

Fifteen

I
floated into the studio and arrived just in time to get changed for Ryan’s lesson. When he saw me, he asked, “What’s happened?”

I couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “My little sister just got into Hunter high school. And my father’s letting her go.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Wow. Congratulations.”

“You know it?”

“Evelyn went there.”

Now I was impressed and curious. “What did she do after that?”

“She went to Princeton. That’s how she met Adrienne.”

At my blank look, he explained, “The owner of your studio. Adrienne was the alumna who conducted Evelyn’s college interview. That’s why Evelyn chose this studio.”

“Really?” I hadn’t known Adrienne was so well educated—though I probably should have guessed. She wasn’t in the studio these days, having given birth to a healthy baby girl a few months earlier.

“Yep, but I guess dance was what she really loved.”

Adrienne had chosen to follow her dreams, just as Lisa was doing. Now it was my turn. I took a deep breath. “Ryan, would you consider dancing in a competition with me?”

He jerked his head back. “Oh no, I don’t think I’m ready for that. Even just the wedding’s enough of a challenge for me.”

I tapped my foot next to him, trying to think. “Look, you wanted to learn to be a better dancer, right?” I parroted Dominic’s words. “There is no better way to improve than to train for a competition, and the prize is seventy-five hundred dollars per person.”

“Umm, that’s really nice but . . .”

I’d known the money wouldn’t sway him. “It’s all right. I understand.” I pressed my lips together and walked back into the ballroom. I didn’t know what had gotten into me, anyway. I was just so happy about Lisa and the possibility that she could achieve her dreams, I wanted to give mine a chance too.

Ryan was walking beside me, studying me. “You’re upset.”

My eyes suddenly felt hot. I looked at the floor so he wouldn’t notice. “Do you know why your rough hands never bother me?”

I could feel him shaking his head.

I made myself continue. “Because I worked as a dishwasher for years, before I came here. You should have felt my skin. I was clumsy, and bad at school, and not talented at anything.”

He laid his hand upon my shoulder, silencing me. “What would I have to do?”

Startled, I looked up at him. “We’d need to get a dance choreographed. It has to be Latin. We’d have to train hard, really hard, because we’d be up against the best couples from every Avery Studio in New York City and we can’t embarrass ourselves.”

“So who else is competing from our studio?”

A smile began to cross my face as I said, “Keith and Simone.”

Something sparked in his eyes. “You’d teach me to be better than that guy?”

“I would try, yes.”

He sighed. “I hate it when people watch me. Especially when I’m dancing.”

“I know. Me too.”

He chuckled. “Some professional dancer you are.”

I forced myself to try to make him understand. “But I’m learning to hone my body. I love using it to express myself, being strong and in control, and yet free at the same time.”

He nodded. “Yes, I know that feeling.”

He was on the verge of saying yes, but I wanted to be honest. It came out in a rush. “I have to tell you something, which is that since we’re both new, we don’t really have any chance of winning. It’s more that we’d get a lot better and maybe it’d be fun.”

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “This means something to you, doesn’t it?”

I was just realizing this myself. All my life, I’d been trying to fulfill other people’s ideas of who I was supposed to be and failing, and this was my chance to try to become who I was meant to be. I fixed my gaze on the floor again. “I want to do it.”

“All right, then.”

When I met his eyes, I knew mine were full. I blinked and a tear overflowed down my cheek. He reached out with his broad hand and wiped it away. “Hey.”

I took a deep breath. “Come on, we’d better get started.”


As I was walking with Ryan to the mirror, he said, “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve realized that there is a particular dance I’d really like to learn. It’d be perfect if we chose it for the competition.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know what it’s called. They do it to that very fast music.”

I had no idea what he meant. “Come on.” I led him into the small ballroom and went up to the stereo system. I put on a CD with a compilation of Latin music. Then I played the different songs while he listened. He kept shaking his head until a complicated number came on.

“That’s it.”

I tried not to sigh. “Mambo. You do realize that mambo is absolutely the hardest Latin dance, don’t you?”

“Umm, actually, no.”

“It is, because the music wants you to step on the first beat. Your entire body will want to step on the one, but you have to hold it in and step on the two. All of the time. And do you know what’s going to be the only thing stopping you from stepping on the one?”

“I’ll bite. What?”

“Me. I am going to be hanging onto your arm, holding you back until the two beat every single time. That’s going to be like trying to stop a rampaging bull. Couldn’t we do rumba or merengue?”

“Sure, you’re the dance teacher.” He was downcast for a moment, then looked determined. “Though if there’s one thing I learned from boxing, it’s that you need to push yourself sometimes. Reach beyond what you know you can do.”

I thought about this for a moment. I didn’t want him to be unhappy, especially when he was mainly doing this to help me. “Why do you want mambo?” Then I remembered. “Is it that friend of yours who said white guys can’t do Latin?”

There was a long pause before he spoke. “His name is Felipe. He’s my best buddy and was my biggest competitor when I was
boxing. He lived uptown and I was in Brooklyn, but the best boxing gym’s in Brooklyn so we met there. We had the same coach, used to spar together all the time. We’re like brothers. He’s part Cuban, part Dominican and he’s ribbed me my whole life about how I’ll never able to dance. And when I stopped boxing, he continued.”

“How did he do?”

“Won so many titles.” Ryan’s smile was sad. “He’s pretty famous now in the boxing world. Anyway, I’d like to watch his jaw drop. Just once.”

“You want him to come watch the competition?”

“He’s not really the type to attend one. Actually, I was hoping that you and I could do it for him somewhere, like at a party. He lives in Spanish Harlem and I’ve seen lots of couples dancing to this type of music there.”

I repeated, “Spanish Harlem.”

“I’d be with you.”

“Ryan, I’m not really supposed to see you outside of the studio.” Though I was tempted.

“What?”

“We’re not allowed to fraternize with the students.”

“Whoa.” He held his hands up. “I have a girlfriend, remember? This is just dancing at a party together. I could even pay you.”

It stung a bit, that he hadn’t intended his invitation in a romantic sense, although I knew anything between us wasn’t possible anyway. I frowned. “They do hire us out sometimes but for more formal events like a showcase or a wedding. I don’t think a party uptown would qualify.”

“What kind of dumb rule is this?”

I put it as clearly as I could. “If the studio thinks we’re having a romantic relationship, I’ll be fired.”

“I don’t want to get you into trouble.” He ducked his head. “I guess my friend will just have to keep believing I can’t dance.”

At the mention of his friend, a thought popped into my head. “Do you own a car?”

“I don’t want to drive to Harlem. It’ll get stripped.”

“So you do have one.”

“Yeah?”

I took a breath, then leaned in to say softly, “All right. We’ll do mambo for the competition and I’ll go to Spanish Harlem with you. No one will ever know about the party, okay?”

He straightened, looking glad. “Are you sure? It’s your job.”

“We’re not in love, so even if they do catch me, I’ll probably be all right. They’ll believe I’m telling the truth.”

His face became impassive. “Yes, good thing you wouldn’t be hiding anything.”

“But then I’m going to ask you to do a favor for me too. I have a friend who needs a car.”


On my way to the studio later that week, I kept tracing an advanced mambo step in my head as I walked through the Chinatown streets. Maybe Ryan and I could use this in our routine. It was swivel swivel hold, then hop freeze, and did I come out on the left or right leg after that? I started to mark the combination on the pavement. Oh yes, it was the right leg. I looked up to see a Chinese lady in boots and a puffy brown coat staring at me. She closed her mouth, gathered up her plastic shopping bags and literally ran away from me as if I were a crazy person. Oops. It wasn’t easy to do a mambo in Chinatown.

Just yesterday, our downstairs neighbor had come up to complain again about all of the noise in our apartment. Luckily, I was alone at home then.

“It sounds like a bunch of elephants are stomping around in here,” he said. “You two girls were always so quiet. What’s happened to you?”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll make sure it stops.” I resolved to practice at home only in my socks from then on.


I wondered if I could pretend to be sick for the matchmaking dim sum session on Sunday morning with Grace, but I was afraid Godmother Yuan would never forgive me. I chose my clothing carefully. It was a matter of pride that I wanted to look nice, although I still dressed more conservatively than I did at the studio. Pa was already gone and Lisa had left for a friend’s apartment.

When I entered the restaurant, I saw Grace and a number of other people seated at a large round table. I knew from watching matchmaking sessions at the noodle restaurant that the girl was usually placed at the opposite end of the table from the intended guy, with all of their family and friends in between. I wondered why it was done this way, since it was so awkward for the potential couple, but I thought it showed whose opinion really mattered regarding the match: the family’s.

Indeed, Grace was at one end and I scanned the opposite side for her suitor. My jaw dropped. It was Dennis, Uncle Henry’s assistant. Pa was sitting there too. What in the world? Pa stood up to wave at me and I saw he was wearing his best clothes again. To Grace’s left were her friends and relatives, including Godmother Yuan, Mrs. Yuan and Winston. Oh no. Now I understood. The official matchmaking session may have been for Grace and Dennis, but Winston and I were a bonus. I glanced back at the door, but by then Godmother had locked onto my arm and was steering me to the table. Too late to run.

Winston stood up so quickly when I arrived at the table that he almost knocked his chair over. Grace was as pretty as ever. However, while I’d always seen her laughing, now she seemed bored and resentful. To Grace’s left were people who must have been Dennis’s friends and relatives. I greeted everyone at the table and shook hands with the people I didn’t know. Pa grinned at me. Winston had been placed far from Grace, to make it clear that he wasn’t her boyfriend. There was an empty seat in between Winston and Dennis. I obviously wasn’t considered attractive enough to be a threat to Grace or they would never have put me, an unmarried woman, next to the potential suitor. In any case, I tried to head for a spot near Pa instead but Godmother’s fingers were like iron. My stomach rolled as I sat in between the two young men.

Dennis’s eyes flitted around the room as if he was as mortified as Grace to be there. It must have been doubly embarrassing for him that Pa and I were present as well. When the waiters set several pots of tea on the table, everyone waited for Grace to stand up and pour. She didn’t. There was a long awkward silence, which Godmother Yuan tried to break by asking Dennis what he did for a living. She was surprised to learn he was Uncle Henry’s assistant. I realized that the two families didn’t know each other, but had been set up by a professional matchmaker, probably one of the older women on Dennis’s side of the table. Finally, since I was the only other young woman present, I stood up and poured the tea into everyone’s china cups one by one, leaving my own for last, as was proper.

I could feel Winston’s gaze on me and I didn’t want to speak to him so I pretended Dennis was a ballroom student and started talking to him.

He perked up. “I think it’s really interesting to apply scientific measurements to age-old techniques.”

I thought about the jars in Uncle’s office. “I’ve always wondered
exactly which medicines worked and which ones didn’t. Although I feel sorry for the animals that get killed for them, especially in cruel ways.”

“I was just learning about a technique where they shove an ink stone down the throat of a living poisonous toad and then leave the creature to dry in the sun. The ink is supposed to be very potent in curing certain diseases.” His face was more animated than I’d ever seen it.

I grimaced. “I think that sort of thing should be outlawed.”

“You’re very kindhearted. But don’t you think human well-being is more important than some animal’s?”

I tried to keep the smile on my face as we continued chatting. The older people picked out the food they wanted from the waiters who pushed the dim sum carts around the restaurant. It was actually pretty easy to be sociable now that I had to do it for my job. Once Pa caught my eye and jerked his head toward Winston. I must have turned beet red and made sure not to glance in his direction again.

When I stood up to refill everyone’s cups again, I realized that Mrs. Yuan, the matchmaker and Grace were all watching us with varying degrees of animosity. Of course, the matchmaker wouldn’t get her extra fee if Dennis preferred me to Grace. I met Grace’s eyes and made a little gesture with my hand to say, “Sorry, go ahead. He’s yours.” Her lips twitched but she continued to study me instead of Dennis.

For a moment, I remembered our old easy friendship. After we’d grown apart, I’d been jealous of Grace. I’d wondered, if I’d still had a mother and grandma like her, would I have been as attractive? Now I saw her as a girl wearing too much makeup, weighed down by the need to look perfect all the time, by all of those logos on her bags and shoes. I thought about what Zan had told me about Grace being caught in bed with a girl. Maybe Grace was just like
me, with desires that couldn’t be expressed in our small community. Had she been in love with that girl? Had her parents made them stop seeing each other? Did she feel as lonely as I did sometimes? I realized that in a way, Grace and I were similar, both trying to figure out who we were outside of our parents’ world.

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