Read Online Grave on Grand Avenue by Naomi Hirahara - Free Book Online
Authors: Naomi Hirahara
Ads: Link
notice Xu’s father taking a phone call in the back. Rude, I think. Isn’t this your son’s shining-star moment? But Mr. Xu seems upset. I mean really upset. He raises his voice and then realizes that he’s attracting unwanted attention. People don’t realize that he’s Xu’s father and give him some stink-eye. I can’t find Nay in the crowd; she’s probably positioned herself in the front row.
I’m wondering whether something has happened to Mr. Fuentes. Nobody would think of informing me of his medical status. If he dies, then Mr. Xu could really be in some hot water. He’ll have to extend his stay in the U.S.; that’s for sure.
After about half an hour, there’s clapping in the main hall, and the crowd disperses. Some choose to get more appetizers, but quite a few, their jackets and purses in hand, choose to leave. I search for Nay. Don’t see her. Mr. Xu is gone, too.
As I eat more cheese, Nay finally reappears. “Listen, I’m going to stick around. I met someone.”
“Who?”
She gestures toward an Asian guy and I catch a flash of orange neon, the same neon as at the crime scene.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I say, disgusted.
“You know him?”
“I never got his name.”
“Washington Jeung.”
I arch my eyebrows.
“Now, now, no need to be so rude,” she scolds me, even though I haven’t actually said anything. “You know the whole Chinese immigrant thing for presidential names. He can’t help what his parents named him.”
“Still . . .”
“He’s not bad-looking.”
“He’s not good-looking, either. Or bad enough.” I know Nay’s type—or should I say types —and this guy doesn’t fit any of them.
“Anyway, he’s a freelance translator. He’s even translated for Xu’s father in Europe in the past.”
“Yep, I know.”
“So how do you know him?”
I catch myself before I reveal too much about the case. It has enough complications as it is.
“I heard him introduce himself to some people here,” I lie. Weak, but Nay uncharacteristically buys it. Perhaps she’s too smitten to think straight?
“Are you sure about this?” I ask. Nay hasn’t had the best taste in men. But, as Rickie says, it’s Nay’s 31 Flavors. If she doesn’t like one on Monday, it really doesn’t matter because there will be a new one the next day. “How are you going to get home?”
“Well, maybe I won’t go home.”
“Nay!”
“Look at him. I have a good twenty pounds on him. I’ll be all right.”
I’m not so sure. I’m worried about Nay. I know she has pepper spray in a sparkly Hello Kitty case, but despite these precautions, Nay could get hurt. Badly. Now that I work in Central, which covers PPW, I hear about many more incidents of assault and date rape than I ever realized were going on while I was attending college. I can’t tell her the private details, but I realize more than ever that PPW isn’t the protective enclave that we all thought it to be. And beyond its walls, in the outside world, literally anything can happen.
“Listen, you call me if you need a ride,” I tell her. “Anytime, okay?”
Nay’s already heading back to Washington’s side. I try to mad-dog him, give him a fierce look and puff out my chest in my uniform. You hurt my BFF and you’ll answer to me. Benjamin used to tell me whenever I tried to look menacing, I just managed to look cross-eyed. Either way, Washington doesn’t even seem to notice me.
The crowd has thinned considerably and I look for a place to leave my empty glass when I notice someone next to me. Someone at least six feet tall, with a beautiful head of black hair, smooth skin and sparkly eyes. It’s Xu, being a wallflower like me.
Shouldn’t you be out there, in the center of things, signing autographs or something? I think. Instead, I say, “Oh, hello.”
“Hello,” he says back. I’ve never heard him speak before, and wasn’t sure how well he spoke English.
“Nice concert,” I say. Lamest thing
I’m wondering whether something has happened to Mr. Fuentes. Nobody would think of informing me of his medical status. If he dies, then Mr. Xu could really be in some hot water. He’ll have to extend his stay in the U.S.; that’s for sure.
After about half an hour, there’s clapping in the main hall, and the crowd disperses. Some choose to get more appetizers, but quite a few, their jackets and purses in hand, choose to leave. I search for Nay. Don’t see her. Mr. Xu is gone, too.
As I eat more cheese, Nay finally reappears. “Listen, I’m going to stick around. I met someone.”
“Who?”
She gestures toward an Asian guy and I catch a flash of orange neon, the same neon as at the crime scene.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I say, disgusted.
“You know him?”
“I never got his name.”
“Washington Jeung.”
I arch my eyebrows.
“Now, now, no need to be so rude,” she scolds me, even though I haven’t actually said anything. “You know the whole Chinese immigrant thing for presidential names. He can’t help what his parents named him.”
“Still . . .”
“He’s not bad-looking.”
“He’s not good-looking, either. Or bad enough.” I know Nay’s type—or should I say types —and this guy doesn’t fit any of them.
“Anyway, he’s a freelance translator. He’s even translated for Xu’s father in Europe in the past.”
“Yep, I know.”
“So how do you know him?”
I catch myself before I reveal too much about the case. It has enough complications as it is.
“I heard him introduce himself to some people here,” I lie. Weak, but Nay uncharacteristically buys it. Perhaps she’s too smitten to think straight?
“Are you sure about this?” I ask. Nay hasn’t had the best taste in men. But, as Rickie says, it’s Nay’s 31 Flavors. If she doesn’t like one on Monday, it really doesn’t matter because there will be a new one the next day. “How are you going to get home?”
“Well, maybe I won’t go home.”
“Nay!”
“Look at him. I have a good twenty pounds on him. I’ll be all right.”
I’m not so sure. I’m worried about Nay. I know she has pepper spray in a sparkly Hello Kitty case, but despite these precautions, Nay could get hurt. Badly. Now that I work in Central, which covers PPW, I hear about many more incidents of assault and date rape than I ever realized were going on while I was attending college. I can’t tell her the private details, but I realize more than ever that PPW isn’t the protective enclave that we all thought it to be. And beyond its walls, in the outside world, literally anything can happen.
“Listen, you call me if you need a ride,” I tell her. “Anytime, okay?”
Nay’s already heading back to Washington’s side. I try to mad-dog him, give him a fierce look and puff out my chest in my uniform. You hurt my BFF and you’ll answer to me. Benjamin used to tell me whenever I tried to look menacing, I just managed to look cross-eyed. Either way, Washington doesn’t even seem to notice me.
The crowd has thinned considerably and I look for a place to leave my empty glass when I notice someone next to me. Someone at least six feet tall, with a beautiful head of black hair, smooth skin and sparkly eyes. It’s Xu, being a wallflower like me.
Shouldn’t you be out there, in the center of things, signing autographs or something? I think. Instead, I say, “Oh, hello.”
“Hello,” he says back. I’ve never heard him speak before, and wasn’t sure how well he spoke English.
“Nice concert,” I say. Lamest thing
Similar Books
