He grabbed my foot and gave it a tug, nearly pulling me off the railing. I kicked my foot free and settled back into place.
“I like the Outpost,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows. “With the python and the cockroaches and the world’s biggest spider?”
He leaned against the fence next to my leg. “What did that tell you about my personality?”
“That you like icky things.”
“Icky? Is that an SAT word?”
I smiled. “It’s accurate. That’s all that matters. What do you like about the Outpost?”
“I feel like it’s the only place left in the zoo where they actually let the animals still behave like they would in the wild. They eat live mice. Live insects. They would never put a live animal in the ocelot cage. Can you imagine the outrage if they did?”
“That’s true. I think that’s what I don’t like about the Outpost.”
“Yeah, it can be disturbing. But it’s real life, you know? That’s how things really work. No pretense. No faking.” He said it with such intensity that it surprised me. I hadn’t seen that side of him before. Then just as quickly as he’d gone serious, his smile was back. “But snakes are also just really cool.”
“I think you mean icky.”
He chuckled, then we were silent for a couple minutes. I watched kids climbing onto the carousel across the way from us, squealing in excitement. I could hear the music emanating from the ride. Rachel was working the carousel today. She held up a bubble wand and was filling the area around the horses with bubbles and then popping them right along with the kids. I noticed Seth watching Rachel, too. Or watching the bubbles. Or both. I wondered if Seth liked her. She seemed like his type—fun and loud and pretty.
Even though I’d been joking, maybe Seth’s station choice really had given me insight into his personality. He didn’t like fakers, which is all I’d been with him for the last several weeks.
“I need to tell you something,” I said, taking a deep breath.
“Let me guess. You want to go on a train ride?” He gestured toward the front car.
“No. There’ll be a line of kids waiting when we get back. And we’ll get in trouble.”
“Those are two different reasons.”
“And they’re both valid.”
He shrugged one shoulder as if disputing that fact. “So what do you need to tell me?”
Before I could answer, a kid and his mom came to the front of the line and asked, “Is the train still going? We bought a ticket.”
“Yep,” Seth said, “come aboard.”
The boy wound through the chain ropes, then pushed through the turnstile and ran up and down the length of the train looking for the perfect seat. On his second pass, Seth smiled and the mom shook her head.
“Do all the kids do this?” she asked.
“About half,” Seth said. “The other half know exactly where they want to sit. Like me, I always know where I want to sit on a train.”
The woman smiled at Seth, then said, “Really? Do you ride a lot of trains? Where are you from?”
“I just meant this train,” he said. “I only live about fifteen minutes east of here.”
She nodded. “What about your parents? Where are they from?”
“My parents? They live there, too.”
“Oh. Right. But I mean where were they born?” she asked.
“Oh! Where were they born?” he said, acting like he hadn’t understood the real implication of her question. “In San Diego. What about your parents? Where were they born?”
“I found one!” her son exclaimed. “Come on, Mom!”
“I’m coming.”
“I got this ride,” I said, sliding into the conductor seat.
“Thanks,” Seth said.
I pulled the whistle and set us in motion.
When we were done, the lady said, “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Seth said, still as friendly as ever. Then he looked at me and his smile fell a bit. “Was that rude?”
“What? No.”
“I don’t mind telling people my family’s history, but only people who aren’t asking out of some weird need to categorize me.”
“Really, Seth, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. It wasn’t rude. I thought you handled that perfectly.”
“We’ve been in America for over forty years. My grandfather came over with the first wave of refugees out of Vietnam. He’d served in the military there. But my parents were born here. I was born here. I’ve never even been to Vietnam.”
I put my hand on his arm. “People are idiots. Do you get that a lot?”
“With the Asian population around twenty percent here, I get that more than I should. I can’t imagine how often Asians outside of Southern California hear things like that.”
“You’ve never lived outside of California?” I asked.
“No, I grew up in Westminster. Have you ever been there?”
“Yes, to Little Saigon for the world’s best phở,” I said. “Or at least Southern California’s best phở.”
“You like Vietnamese soup? I knew you had good taste.”
I looked at my feet, which were pressed up against the railing, and tried not to smile.
“Did you know that nearly half of the population in Westminster is Vietnamese?” Seth went on.
I shook my head no.
“Growing up, I thought I was the majority!” Seth laughed. “Then we moved to Tustin when I was twelve and my parents put me in a private school.”
“The whitest town your parents could find?”
“It was a culture shock. It’s weird, though. I mean, I was born here. English is my first language. My grandparents spoke English before even coming here. But I don’t look American. My immigration story is just a bit too close to the surface for people. Not as far removed as theirs.”
It was hard to relate, having never experienced that myself. But I felt for him. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”
He sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go off.”
“You are allowed to vent whenever you need to.”
“I try not to let myself get frustrated or I’d spend my life in a constant state of frustration. That’s no way to live.”
“I’m just reviewing every stupid thing I’ve ever said to you or anyone in the past.”
“You’ve been fine.”
I nodded my head to the left and hopped off the railing. “Come on. I’m going to buy you a slushy lemonade.”
“You’re going to buy an overpriced lemonade? What are you—made of money now or something?”
I met his eyes for a second. Wait. Was he making the same kind of jokes I’d been hearing for the last several weeks? It didn’t take long to realize he wasn’t. That he’d said it in innocence. “Yes, I am,” I answered truthfully, “a lot of it.” But he only laughed.
There were thousands of cars on the large dealership lot. I didn’t let it overwhelm me. I’d come with a plan. I was going to buy a newer model Jeep. It was sporty, dependable, and reasonably priced. All I needed Trina’s dad to do was point me in the right direction.
When I arrived inside the dealership, the first thing I saw was a huge, poster-sized picture of Trina hanging on the wall under the name of the dealership. She was in her soccer uniform and was giving a thumbs-up to the camera.
“I know, right?” Trina said, appearing beside me.
I raised my eyebrows at her.
“My dad paid me for my endorsement or I wouldn’t have come close to agreeing.”
“Soccer stars are experts on cars, who knew?” I smiled her way.
“My dad is balder than a baby or he probably would’ve used his own big head up there.”
I laughed.
“Speaking of the bald baby.” She nodded toward an older man who was walking our way. “And despite what I’ve said, I actually really like the guy. You will, too. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Her dad was already extending his hand out to shake mine. His face was filled with a friendly smile.