finally they come looking for you! ‘Hey, little Asian girl: You know this life you were leading? The one you always thought was so special? Well, actually it’s not that special at all. Actually you’re just a lonely, flawed person like everybody else. You’ll have some good times and you’ll have some bad times, but mostly you’ll just have a lot of boring times. Mostly your days will just be painfully uneventful.’ Hey, maybe if you boil it all down, Miguel, that’s what life is. Uneventful.”
She paused for a couple seconds, thinking about what she’d just said, and then she told me: “You could maybe have one of your characters say that if you want. You have my permission.”
“That’s cool,” I told her back, still writing.
After I wrote the word “permission” I shook out my cramping hand.
Mei-li caught my eyes in the rearview and said: “What about you, Miguel? I wanna know, how do you see the world?”
I looked back down at my journal, at all Mei-li’s words I’d just written down, and I shifted in my seat. I wanted so bad to come up with something just as deep, something that would impress Mei-li and show her how smart I could be. But nothing was coming into my head.
“I don’t even know,” I finally said, shifting in my seat again. “But maybe when somethin’ really bad happens in your life … maybe then you wish you could make it go back to being boring.” I stared at the back of her headrest and pictured my moms looking at me that last time, and the guards at Juvi, waiting, and my bro Diego holding open the door of the fridge, pulling out the milk. I cleared my throat, said: “Maybe boring isn’t so bad compared to other stuff that could happen.”
Mei-li nodded as she put out her cigarette. “I think that’s true, Miguel,” she said. “I think that makes a whole lot of sense.”
The car went quiet for a while as she sat there thinking. Rondell almost choked on his own breath and opened his eyes for a sec. But all he did was shift his head around and fall right back to sleep. Mong was still staring ahead like a zombie.
Mei-li’s face looked sort of sad in the rearview, like she was remembering something from her past too. I wondered why she’d just told me so much about herself. I didn’t mind or anything, I’d just never had somebody do that before. Especially a girl.
Then she sighed and said: “Sometimes I wonder if growing up isn’t the saddest thing that can happen to a person.”
July 17—more
Mei-li drove us on the 280 for what seemed like hours. Past San Jose State and Kelley Park. She rolled down her window as we cruised through Felt Lake, then Crystal Springs Reservoir near where my moms grew up. Traffic slowed as we got into lower San Francisco near the airport. And in the actual city it became so thick I could’ve hopped out and walked faster.
After a long stretch without any talking, Mei-li turned down her stereo again and looked at me in the rearview. “Hey, Miguel,” she said. “I hope I don’t come off as bitter in your story. I’m really not. I still believe in ‘true love’ and ‘meant to be’ as much as anybody else. Maybe more.”
We caught eyes in the mirror and she said: “Make sure I don’t seem so bitter, okay?”
“Okay,” I said. It’d been so long since we talked I was surprised she was still thinking about that.
For some reason right then I wondered what it’d be like if I was her boyfriend. And not that punk who cheated on her. I tried to think of me up there in the front seat with her, where Mong was. Or maybe even driving. Her hand on the inside of my knee as I shifted gears. Or kissing on my ear. I’m not gonna lie, I felt shit getting all hyped in my jeans, so I shifted around some. Made sure nobody could peep my situation.
Sometimes I seriously don’t get how a guy who has a fine girlfriend like Mei-li, or some of the girls Diego gets with, could even look at other girls, much less mess around. Staring at the
She paused for a couple seconds, thinking about what she’d just said, and then she told me: “You could maybe have one of your characters say that if you want. You have my permission.”
“That’s cool,” I told her back, still writing.
After I wrote the word “permission” I shook out my cramping hand.
Mei-li caught my eyes in the rearview and said: “What about you, Miguel? I wanna know, how do you see the world?”
I looked back down at my journal, at all Mei-li’s words I’d just written down, and I shifted in my seat. I wanted so bad to come up with something just as deep, something that would impress Mei-li and show her how smart I could be. But nothing was coming into my head.
“I don’t even know,” I finally said, shifting in my seat again. “But maybe when somethin’ really bad happens in your life … maybe then you wish you could make it go back to being boring.” I stared at the back of her headrest and pictured my moms looking at me that last time, and the guards at Juvi, waiting, and my bro Diego holding open the door of the fridge, pulling out the milk. I cleared my throat, said: “Maybe boring isn’t so bad compared to other stuff that could happen.”
Mei-li nodded as she put out her cigarette. “I think that’s true, Miguel,” she said. “I think that makes a whole lot of sense.”
The car went quiet for a while as she sat there thinking. Rondell almost choked on his own breath and opened his eyes for a sec. But all he did was shift his head around and fall right back to sleep. Mong was still staring ahead like a zombie.
Mei-li’s face looked sort of sad in the rearview, like she was remembering something from her past too. I wondered why she’d just told me so much about herself. I didn’t mind or anything, I’d just never had somebody do that before. Especially a girl.
Then she sighed and said: “Sometimes I wonder if growing up isn’t the saddest thing that can happen to a person.”
July 17—more
Mei-li drove us on the 280 for what seemed like hours. Past San Jose State and Kelley Park. She rolled down her window as we cruised through Felt Lake, then Crystal Springs Reservoir near where my moms grew up. Traffic slowed as we got into lower San Francisco near the airport. And in the actual city it became so thick I could’ve hopped out and walked faster.
After a long stretch without any talking, Mei-li turned down her stereo again and looked at me in the rearview. “Hey, Miguel,” she said. “I hope I don’t come off as bitter in your story. I’m really not. I still believe in ‘true love’ and ‘meant to be’ as much as anybody else. Maybe more.”
We caught eyes in the mirror and she said: “Make sure I don’t seem so bitter, okay?”
“Okay,” I said. It’d been so long since we talked I was surprised she was still thinking about that.
For some reason right then I wondered what it’d be like if I was her boyfriend. And not that punk who cheated on her. I tried to think of me up there in the front seat with her, where Mong was. Or maybe even driving. Her hand on the inside of my knee as I shifted gears. Or kissing on my ear. I’m not gonna lie, I felt shit getting all hyped in my jeans, so I shifted around some. Made sure nobody could peep my situation.
Sometimes I seriously don’t get how a guy who has a fine girlfriend like Mei-li, or some of the girls Diego gets with, could even look at other girls, much less mess around. Staring at the
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