Page 75 of Fake Game

My thoughts swirl with the fact that I am now going to have to find a way to keep up this ruse without getting caught.

Angela is the third student to take the stage, and even though I know the lights are blinding, she still manages to search the crowd and find me. I give her a thumbs up, just in case. She takes her seat on the bench, and the audience seems to quiet even further as the first few notes ring out. She plays “Raindrop” without missing a beat, the tune weaving through the air like aswan gliding across a clear lake. When the final note rings out, it bounces throughout the auditorium. The resounding applause is the loudest so far, and I share a look with my parents, pride shining on all our faces.

The next two hours pass by in a blur, and I have to ignore the quiet buzzing of my phone in my pocket the entire time. Whoever is blowing it up better have a good reason.

When it comes time for the adjudicators to award first through third place, my mom clasps her hands tightly in her lap. I reach over and place my hand over hers. The announcer calls Angela’s name for second place, and I can feel the dejection ripple out from my mom.

“It’s fine,” I whisper.

She tsks, her eyes narrowing. “That Han boy shouldn’t even be in the same category as her. Everyone knows he is being classically trained; it’s not fair. How is Angela supposed to win with him there?”

“Ma.” I give her hand a squeeze.

The lights come up and the audience applauds for the three students on stage. Mom plasters a smile on her face as Angela comes down the stairs.

“Great job, Angie.” I reach down and scoop her up in a giant hug.

She wriggles in my arms. “Ohmigod,go go. Stop, you’re so embarrassing.”

I place her back down and she makes a fuss of straightening out her black performance dress. I can tell she’s annoyed that the certificate in her hand doesn’t have a shiny gold circle on it, but at least she seems a little more distracted.

“She should have played a harder piece.”

My eyes cut to Auntie An, who appears next to me like a ghost summoned from the trenches. Her words are spoken in a hush,but Angela is close enough that if she decides to pay attention, she’ll hear the judgmental tone.

“‘Raindrop’ was the right choice. I couldn’t play it that seamlessly when I was her age.”

“That’s not saying much.”

I clench my jaw to keep from saying something disrespectful even though she deserves it. God, she fucking deserves it. Bitterness stems from my mother’s sister like weeds from the crack in a sidewalk.

It’s a tradition in our household to learn an instrument while growing up, and both Angela and I had leaned into piano—even though I think our father still wishes one of us had picked up the violin. Still, I was never the most musically inclined. I was better at sports in school—specifically swimming. I won countless medals for breaststroke, but my aunt would always mention howher sonwas stacking trophies at national recitals. Her competitive nature against my mom does my head in, and I hate that I’m dragged into the middle of it time and time again.

“I don’t see your little girlfriend.” She makes an exaggerated effort to look around the room.

“She was busy.”

“Too busy to meet your family? After a direct invitation?” She scoffs. “I would say I’m shocked, but it seems fitting. She didn’t exactly look like a respectable woman.”

Fire licks at my skin with every word she enunciates, a beast within me stirring awake as she continues to poke at me—poke at Deer, like she has any clue whatkindof woman she is.

“Po powill be disappointed. She was so interested to meet her, and this is not a great first impression.”

“I never toldpo poshe would be here.” The accusation is clear in my voice.

Auntie An raises her thin eyebrows in nonchalance.

I am going to have to come up with a better excuse for this whole situation since it seems like she is dead set on making a fuss about Deer—on making me seem like lesser than her son in the eyes of my grandmother.

For the first time today, I think that maybe I should have brought Deer here with me. It is a lot harder to deal with a fake girlfriend when it seems like she barely exists. She would also know what to say. Deer spends all day using that fake high-pitched voice and putting on a performance for her viewers as The Cozy Deer. I have no doubt that she would be able to spin this story better than me.

“All right, who is ready for dim sum?” Dad comes over and begins to usher us all out of the auditorium, trying to ease the growing tension that is floating around us like a gray cloud.

I take the chance to separate myself from my aunt, getting ahead of everyone so I can retreat to my car without any further questions until I’m trapped at the restaurant. I shove my hand in my pocket, fishing around for my car key as we filter out into the high school’s parking lot.

“Ka-yee.”

I freeze at my grandmother calling me by my given name.

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