The area Micah and his friends were working on was actually four individual plots that they had pooled to work collectively, and it was planted with tomatoes, bell peppers, zucchini, lettuces, and several herbs. Stephanie leaned down to a plant bearing large dark-green chilies. “Ah, poblanos. My mom makes the best mole when these are in season.”

“Take them,” Micah said, smiling at her.

“Really?” Stephanie looked at him. “I’m going home next weekend. She’d love these.”

“Absolutely! Your mom will make much better use of them than we can.” Micah handed her a canvas bag. “Here, take them all.” Stephanie grinned as she took the bag.

Micah continued to walk Karina through the garden. “Lemon verbena?” Karina pointed at a patch. “What do you use that for?”

Micah smiled and shrugged. “Not sure yet, but we’re gonna have a lot of it. If you have any ideas, let me know.” He led her back to the tool bucket and handed her a pair of gloves. “Karina,” he said. “From your name, I’m guessing you’re Indian.” He held up one finger and continued, “But not entirely. Perhaps Caucasian too?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s right,” Karina said, taken aback. “How . . . ? You can tell all that from my name?”

“Your name. The almond shape of your eyes. Your skin tone.” Micah smiled at her. “I studied a little Sanskrit, believe it or not.”

“What? No, you’re kidding.”

“Yeah, I have one of those brains for language. I pick them up easily.”

“How many?”

“Seven or eight.” He smiled, shrugging. “I’ve traveled all over the world, so I’ve seen a lot of different people and combinations in my life. What’s it like, being from two cultures? Do people always try to peg you to one or the other?”

Karina looked at him, trying to read his face. “People don’t know what to make of me.”

“How does that feel?”

Micah was exploring questions she’d never been asked before, much less answered. Karina was grateful for the sunglasses and baseball cap shielding her face. “Unmoored, I guess. You know, I’d love to just walk into a place and feel like I’m with my people. But that doesn’t happen. Ever. I tried the Indian Students Association on campus and it was kind of a bust. Not Indian enough. Everywhere else, a little too different to fit in.”

Micah smiled and murmured sympathetically. He dragged a bag of manure over to the tomato plants. “It’s human nature, to want to categorize things in a way we recognize. But people don’t realize it’s in the mixing that greatness happens. Rock ’n’ roll came from the confluence of R & B and country music. Hybrid tomatoes, like these”—he paused to snap a sucker from the tomato vine—“are the most delicious. And children of two races combine the best features of each. Always the most beautiful.”

Karina’s smile came involuntarily, though she told herself he hadn’t complimented her directly. She was struck by how it felt to be truly seen by Micah. He didn’t think of her as a novelty, like some people, or look past her differences entirely, as James had.