The morning after my not-so-soul-shattering breakup with Kyle, I show up right on time for my shift. Just as she always does on the Sundays when we’re on together, Vera’s already there at The Luckiest Wok, making coffee in the back and readying the tills. Louis and Anton get there minutes later and get the grill going. It’s early, and our half of the food court—all the breakfast and coffee places are on the other side—is still mostly empty.

“I saw the schedule, Holly.” Vera clucks her tongue and shakes her head so that her dyed red curls bounce, gray roots peeking out. She opens her till and cracks open rolls of quarters. “Spring break and you’re here every day. Sweetie, why aren’t you somewhere fun with your boyfriend, or on some road trip with your girlfriends?”

I grab the mini display chalkboard on the counter to change the day’s special—spring rolls are two-for-one today to kick off the break—and give her a grin. Vera’s never had kids, and almost everything she knows about teenagers comes from watching Everything ’80s, her favorite channel to stream on Flicked.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I say, doodling spring rolls with happy faces in chalk, “and all my girlfriends are also working.”

Vera’s penciled eyebrows lift. “What happened to Kyle?”

More like, what happened to me? “I guess I found out he’s kind of an ass.”

“Huh. Only wanted one thing, right?”

I laugh. “No, not that. Just a case of yellow fever.”

“You dumped him over an illness? Is yellow fever the new mono these days? Is it just as contagious?”

I laugh again.

Vera huffs. “I’m old, hon. You’re going to have to elaborate.”

“You know, like Asian fever. Wanting to go out with someone just because they’re Asian.”

Her eyebrows lift even higher so they disappear behind her bangs. “Oh my. How . . . ungentlemanly.”

“Right? So gross.” I adjust the display chalkboard so customers walking by can see it. I hope Vera doesn’t think of me as a hypocrite, since I’ve told her my guess as to why Adam hired me in the first place, and here I am, still working at The Luckiest Wok.

But then again, Adam’s not laughing with Louis and Anton when they all think I’m not around to hear.

“Anyway,” I continue, “no doubt my mom’s already counting on the next white guy being the one, so I’ll be able to truly Embrace the Way of the West. Meanwhile my dad’s about five minutes away from trying to set me up with the son of his best Chinese friend. Fun times.”

Vera shuts her till and leans back against the counter. “But what do you want, sweetie?”