“Baby Hank, you have got to tell your girl about this,” Diya says, rolling her eyes affectionately. “Maybe she’s having a hard time believing in romance because you’re keeping such important things from her.” She clucks her tongue disapprovingly.
“It’s an audition,” Mason volunteers.
“Hey,” Henry barks, looking genuinely irritated. Wow, irritated is definitely a color I haven’t seen on him before.
“No, she needs to know about this—maybe she’ll talk some sense into you,” Joanna says, downing the last of her wine. She sets the glass down on the table and leans forward, her gaze lasering in on me. “Henry landed a huge audition. It’s the lead!”
“A Hot Guy starring role in a big action movie,” Diya chimes in. “Perfect for our sweet Baby Hank. His star will absolutely explode if he gets it.”
“And that’ll be good for all of us,” Mason says, nodding vigorously. “Oh, man, the rep. Henry, you’ll be a credit to us all.”
“Maybe I don’t want that,” Henry says, still looking at the ground.
“What are you talking about, of course you do!” Mason says, slapping his palm against the table. “I would kill for a part like that. Hell, I’d kill just to get the audition.”
Henry doesn’t respond, and his face is still blank. His fingers, I notice, have stopped drumming against the tabletop and are now curled into loose fists. And while I don’t know him super well, I am sure of one thing: he is really freaking uncomfortable right now.
“Um, we should probably get going,” I say, making my tone light even though what I’m saying is totally awkward.
“Noooo, you can’t!” Diya insists. “Look, our food just came!” She gestures to the server, who is carefully setting down a silver tureen of bright yellow curry. Steam curls upward, and I can see little sparks of hot peppers swirling through the curry’s depths, beckoning me.
It smells so good, I might cry.
“I have to be at a, um, place later,” I say, forcing my eyes away from the curry. “I mean, just home. That’s the place. My Aunties will murder me if I’m late.”
“Ahh, can’t risk the Auntie rage,” Diya chirps, grinning at me. “I know it all too well. But hold on, take some of this to go, you have to try it!”
Somehow, a to-go container has already materialized next to Diya, and before I know what’s happening, she’s spooning curry into it and wrapping it up tight in a brown paper bag that she presses on me.
I reach over, slip my thumb into the curl of Henry’s fingers, and tug gently.
“Come on,” I say softly. “Let’s go.”
He seems to snap out of whatever trance he’s gone into, his head jerking up, his eyes meeting mine. As we stand, our hands loosely clasped, he never stops looking at me.
Right as we’re about to make this hasty exit, I realize that I really, really have to pee. I will not make it back to Little Tokyo on LA’s crowded snarl of freeways in time.
“Um, I have to pee,” I murmur. “Meet you outside?”
“Okay,” he says robotically, looking like he’s about a million miles away. He absently takes the curry from me so I don’t have to cart it to the bathroom—even zoned-out Henry is somehow still considerate.
“Lovely meeting you all,” I say, smiling at Diya, Joanna, and Mason.
As I book it to the bathroom, I realize that I truly mean that. Despite the sudden weirdness with Henry, I’m having an amazing time. I feel light. Free. Celebrated, even.
A giddy smile overtakes my face as I push through the heavy wooden door to the teeny bathroom.
When I emerge, Joanna’s leaning against the wall, looking like she’s thinking about something very hard.
“Oh, hey!” she says, flashing me a smile. “Sorry, you said you had to pee and then I realized that I really had to pee, and . . .” She trails off and shrugs, her smile widening. “Did I just make this awkward? Do we have to say a second, extended good-bye now?”
“Really, no worries,” I say, returning her smile. “Usually I’m the one making things awkward, so I appreciate it when someone else steps up to the plate.”
“Ahh, I gotcha,” Joanna says, throwing me a wink. “I knew you were a kindred spirit. Keep in touch, okay? I’m on all the socials.”
“Will do,” I say, giving her a little wave.
Joanna nods and puts a hand on the door—then stops and turns to face me, her brow crinkling.
“Hey. Sweet Rika. When you said you don’t believe in happy endings . . . I think I know why.”
“You do?” I say, taken aback. I’m so surprised, I can’t even protest, can’t point out that we just met and she barely knows me at all. She has no idea about my tragic backstory.
She lets her hand fall from the door and takes a step closer to me, her eyes searching my face in an uncomfortable way. Like she can see right through me. Like she absolutely does know my tragic backstory.
She rests a hand on my arm. Gives me the gentlest smile I’ve ever seen on anyone. And leans in close, like she really wants me to get it.
“Yes,” she says. “It’s because you think you don’t deserve one.”
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
