Gadget Girl by Suzanne Kamata

Author:Suzanne Kamata [KAMATA, SUZANNE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC043000; JUV000000; JUV039150
ISBN: 9781936846320
Publisher: GemmaMedia
Published: 2013-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

22

While Monsieur Le Clerc’s apartment was a spastic’s nightmare, full of antique pottery and crystal wine glasses, the Brouilly’s home is a place to relax. The chairs are plump and soft and covered with faded chintz. The paintings on the wall don’t look like they cost thousands of dollars. They’re mostly replicas of those you’d find in the galleries of the Louvre.

This time, I’m not the youngest person at the table. Hervé has a younger brother, Jean-Paul, who chatters away in French nonstop, and a little sister, Marie, with hair as fine as corn silk. Hervé sits across the table from me. He nods toward his brother, who seems to be telling a story involving lots of explosions, and rolls his eyes. Mom is seated between her friend Etienne and his wife. Madame Brouilly has dark brown hair, caught up in a bun, and a wide mouth that always seems to be smiling. As soon as I stepped in the door, she grabbed me and pulled me to her pillowy breasts.

We’ve had bowls of cold potato soup, fish cooked in broth, and now salad. All throughout the meal there has been lots of crusty French bread.

“After dinner, I’ll show you my manga collection,” Hervé says.

“Thanks.” Does this mean I get to see his room? I’ve never been in a boy’s room before, though I’ve peeked into Nathan’s, which, according to Whitney, always smells like dirty socks and Doritos.

“And by the way, I think you are un genie.”

“A genie? Like someone who comes out of a bottle?”

He laughs. “Non, non, non. You are a, how do you say? A genius!”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Hervé, I think you have me confused with someone else. Like, my mother?”

“Well, yes, your mother is un genie, too. But it’s you who has drawn the Gadget Girl comic, non?”

I glance toward my mother, who, thankfully, seems caught up in some story that Etienne is telling. Oh, good. She didn’t hear. I put a finger up to my lips. “Yes, but it’s a secret,” I whisper. “I don’t want my mother to know.”

“Oh! Pardon.” He lowers his voice and leans across the table. “Anyway, I think it’s, well… c’est magnifique!”

“Really?” My face is suddenly ablaze. No one but Whitney has ever gushed over my drawings before. She’s my best friend, so to her, everything I do is amazing and wonderful, and vice versa. Even Mr. Hodge has been pretty reserved about my work. He gives me As, sure, but he doesn’t say much.

“Thanks,” I say.

“I have a question for you.” He continues in the same low voice.

“Yes?”

“I’m thinking that your father is the model for Hiro Tanaka, no?”

“Yeah,” I say, though that’s not entirely true. Hiro Tanaka is the kind of guy I’ve always imagined my father to be—kind, reserved, intelligent. Solitary. But lately, my picture of him has gotten a little fuzzy. Now that I know he’s married with a son, it’s hard to think of him toiling away in the fields by himself.

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