36. Jimmy #2
“It was! Did you get drunk? You did!”
“I didn’t,” I quickly counter, because I hate the taste of alcohol. I’ve tried sips of wine and beer and spirits—it’s all disgusting to me.
So I don’t drink. Unless my mother’s making me because it looks more sophisticated to have a wineglass in your hand at a function, apparently.
It doesn’t seem to bother her that I’m underage.
She’s been treating me like an adult since I was ten, acting like I’m already the businessman son she wants me to be.
I never got to be a boy around her. I never got to have fun.
The thought stops me in my tracks.
“What did you do, then?” she snaps.
With a weary sigh, I drop my bag at the bottom of the main stairwell and turn to face her. “I hung out with my team. We talked. We laughed together. We ate food. We—”
“Was it healthy?”
“Mā!”
Her face buckles into a scary frown. “Don’t you use that tone with me!”
Closing my eyes, I dip my head as my father clips into the entrance.
“Son, you’re back. Good. I want to tell you about the evening you missed.
I managed to secure some good connections, and I’d like you to play golf with me next week.
One of our potential clients has a son your age, and he’s a golf enthusiast. You can make a friendship with him, and it’ll only help seal the deal. ”
“Bàba. I hate golf. I’m terrible at it.”
“Perfect. The son will feel wonderful beating you, and it will help boost their mood. We’ll have contracts signed by the end of the week.”
He gives me a gleeful grin, and all I can think about is this six-bedroom house and how badly I want to be in it right now.
“Go and get yourself unpacked.” My mother sniffs the air near my arm. “Take a shower too.” She frowns at me like I’m a filthy little street rat who hasn’t bathed in months.
Bàba nods. “And after dinner, I want to sit down with you and go over the tutor list I’ve compiled for your academic year.
I know you’re about to start summer school, so I want to make sure you’ve got some support.
I’d like to start interviews soon so they’re all lined up for your first week.
If it’s a good match, they can see you through your academic year, and then after that, I’d like to go over a new contract I’ve been working on.
I had a wonderful meeting with one of our lawyers today, and he’s given me some fresh ideas on how we can… ”
His words become a static buzz in my ears, and I start to feel like a volcano about to erupt. This hot, scorching energy is building inside me. And as my parents talk up at me—all expectant presumptions and demands—I feel like I’m on the cusp of exploding.
I’ve just come away from a weekend where no one seemed to care what I said or did.
Sure, the drinking game was a challenge, and I didn’t love the party, but no one was demanding anything of me.
No one was talking at me. They were talking to me.
And it’s only now that I’m truly starting to realize that.
I’ve been home for all of three minutes, and I’m already being bombarded.
I want out!
I want—
“I’m moving this year,” I blurt, my heart jumping into my throat when my parents blink at me in surprise.
Did I really just say that out loud?
“Excuse me?” My mother’s voice is soft and just a little terrifying, making it abundantly clear that yes, I did say that out loud, and there’s no going back now.
Swallowing, I brace myself as I try to stay on this path, as I fight for a resolve that feels tenuous at best. “I’ve been invited to move into a house off campus with some of my team, and I’m going to accept.”
“No, you’re not.” Bàba shakes his head with a short laugh. He’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You have your studio, and that is perfect for all your needs. You will not be moving in with other people. That will only distract you.”
“And members of your team,” Mā scoffs. “That is the worst decision you could ever make.”
“But it’s my decision.” My voice is too quiet. I wish I could project it more around these two, but they know how to steal my thunder without even trying.
“We will not be paying for you to live in a house with other people.”
“You won’t have to. My scholarship will cover it.”
Mā rolls her eyes like I’m stupid. “You need good grades. How will you remain top of the class living with a bunch of basketball players.”
“They will only distract you, son.” Bàba slides his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. “It’s a bad idea.”
“It’ll be fine,” I counter quietly. “I can maintain my grades. I can—”
“But I don’t want you to,” he clips. “I won’t allow it.”
Clenching my jaw, I grip the stair rail for support and keep trying to fight my cause. “I need to do this. It will be good for me to live with other people. I’ll learn how to read them, negotiate with them. I can practice all those subtle manipulation techniques you’ve been teaching me.”
That should butter them up a little.
Bàba pauses for a moment, looking at Mā, who’s still shaking her head, though not with the same vigor as before.
So I keep trying to sell this thing, repeating myself with slightly different wording to really get this pitch working for me.
“I know this seems like a strange decision, but living with other people this way will prepare me for the real world. I’ll learn people skills I can’t get when I live on my own.
It will force me to deal with conflict, learn how to get my way through charm and politeness and all the things you’ve taught me.
” I feel sick spouting this stuff at them, but I’ve got to say whatever it takes to make this battle end already.
“You want me to join the family business? Well, think of this as training.”
And that’s the clincher.
My stomach knots as instant regret floods me.
I don’t want to join the family business!
But the look on Bàba’s face right now…
My internal sigh becomes a loud wail: “No!”
But then a miracle happens. My father nods.
He actually nods.
And then my mother does the same. “Okay, fine.” She points her finger at me. “But don’t let yourself down, Jun Hie. We still expect you to protect our name and make this family proud.”
“Of course.” I nod, still in shock over their quick changeup.
I thought I’d be battling this out for days.
I guess I said all the right things to make them believe me.
“Go and shower.” Mā points up the stairs.
“When you come back down, we’ll put together a plan that will ensure you stay on track with your studies while also refining your people skills in the house.
We have to make sure basketball doesn’t dominate your life.
I don’t want these boys pulling you away from what’s important.
The only reason we agreed to let you play is for the benefits of the scholarship.
But your true purpose at this school is to be top of the class. To get your degree Summa Cum Laude.”
Trust my parents to suck the joy out of this win.
Spinning, I head upstairs, trying to remind myself that I’m a grown adult. But at every turn, I keep finding myself feeling like a little kid.
How do I stop that from happening?
You move into this house with the basketball guys and you ignore everything your parents tell you to do.
I nod, but the idea still has my stomach twisting into a painful knot. I’ve spent my life doing everything they’ve told me to do. There is no other option.
I’m just walking into my room when my phone buzzes. Pulling it out, I check the text from Mac.
Mac: So, are you in or out?
With a twitchy smile, I reply:
I’m in.
Mac sends me a shocked GIF, followed by another text.
Mac: Thank fuck for that. Wouldn’t want to be there without you, bro.
His words loosen the knot. Heck, they even make my chest expand, like I can breathe without it hurting. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
Mac: Welcome to the tribe, Li Man.
Mac follows up his last text with a bunch of GIFs that get more explicit as they go. I let out a soft laugh, then quickly delete them because I wouldn’t put it past my mother to check my phone while I’m in the shower.
Letting out a steadying breath, I start stripping off my clothes and thinking about what this year is going to look like.
I vacillate between thinking this is the best decision I’ve ever made to knowing it’s the worst.
By the time I’m clean, I don’t know what I’m feeling.
I just know that I can’t back out now.
I have to move in with the basketball crew.
I just have to.