From Little Tokyo, With Love by Sarah Kuhn

Author:Sarah Kuhn [Kuhn, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2021-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

Henry’s waiting for me when I emerge from Jitlada. He flashes me a big smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You should take all this curry home!” he says jovially—but his voice is too bright, too loud. His smile gets that smug quality I was so irritated by when we first met. “Bet your family will love it.”

“Okaaay,” I say, looking at him curiously. “Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not!” he says, his smile straining so hard, it looks like his face is about to break in half. “Come on!” He turns and starts marching toward the car, his steps defiantly jaunty.

What the hell is happening here? It’s like the real Henry—the one who went rigid with tension when his friends started teasing him—has been replaced by a smirking alien.

“Henry.” I plant my feet and cross my arms over my chest. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing—why would anything be wrong?” he says—so loudly that the valet turns and shoots us a quizzical look. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” I counter, still refusing to move. “Whatever you are, it started back in there”—I jerk my head at Jitlada—“when that big audition came up. You got all tense.”

He shrugs, his bizarre smile faltering. “I’m fine,” he repeats, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself. He throws me a smarmy wink. “You don’t need to worry about me, Sweet Rika.”

Ew. What was that?

“Stop saying you’re fine!” I shoot back, frustration curling in my gut. “Why won’t you just talk to me?”

A million and one emotions play over his face, and he’s trying with all his might to keep that big, weird smile in place. But eventually he loses, his shoulders slumping, his face falling.

“Because I don’t want to,” he snaps.

I reel back like I’ve been slapped. “But . . . but I . . .”

He starts walking toward the car again. “Come on, let’s go.”

Somehow I manage to get it together and follow him, jogging a little to catch up. In my haze of confusion, I realize my kaiju-temper isn’t slamming against my breastbone, demanding release. Instead I just feel . . . hurt. Even though he told me to come with him, it’s like he’s walking away from me, his back stiff and straight.

“I . . . I’ve told you everything,” I say, the words pushing themselves from my throat. “Like, stuff I never tell anyone. Stuff I don’t talk about . . . hell, stuff I try not to think about. And then we . . . in the alley . . .” I trail off, that frustration rising in my chest again. The words are getting all mixed up in my brain, and I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.

“And that means I owe you something?” he fires back, stopping in his tracks and frowning at me.

“N-no,” I say. “That’s not what I meant, I just . . . you got all weird and—”

“And what? That ruins your perfect fantasy of whatever it is you think I am? Whatever you . .

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