Sugary Spice

"Blueberry cream for me and Strawberry swirl for her," Chelsea said to the lady upfront.

She smiled at me since she knew my mother and beckoned for us to come back.

With a heavy Vietnamese accent, she told us to wait at our chairs while she went to get the nail technicians. Chelsea looked around the building.

"This is a nice place. Your mom could've easily taken the job here."

I ignored her. Chelsea had been dancing on my nerves all day, though she swore she wasn't trying to, and this was going to be a spectacular concierto if she didn't let up. A quiet boy came and placed two milkshakes next to us and walked away. I sipped it to avoid answering any questions that Chelsea asked.

"He's cute, right?"

I shrugged. The boy reminded me too much of my brother to be attractive. I was nearly finished with my shake when two Vietnamese ladies came out to greet us. I knew one through my father's job, though she didn't seem to know me. They both went to work, filling a bath for us and soaking our feet in them. The warm water shot comfort up my legs towards my brain. I had been transported from a salon chair with my friend who was bitching about her break-up to a warm oasis filled with palm trees and camels. The wind blew past, whispering about its day and asking how the kids were, and the trees shook back answers.

"Psst," Chelsea said, interrupting my calm.

"What?"

"What are they saying?"

"I dunno."

"I always feel like they're talking shit about me."

My oasis had become a mirage in an instant and I was back in the unavoidable desert of hanging out with Chelsea. I had been avoiding her for weeks and the only reason that I had agreed to hang out with her today was because I knew how much Alex had meant to her. I was regretting it now though. Chelsea shifted and took a sip of her milkshake.

"What kind of milk do they use in these?"

I shrugged. She kept going despite the brick wall clearly laying before her.

"I think the ones at your mom's salon are better. Why didn't we go there?"

I shrugged. My mother didn't like Chelsea and wasn't shy about it. That wasn't the reason I didn't want to take Chelsea there, but I really didn't want to ruin another perfectly fine dinner with my mother asking why I still hung out with her. My mom didn't understand the hierarchy of high school. Though she had gotten a degree, she had focused on her studies and didn't really have friends. She had expected the same from me, though she was getting better at understanding.

"What's going on with you and Phuc?"

"We're math partners," I said.

"You don't want to fuck Phuc?" she chuckled at the trite joke everyone has made since middle school.

"He has a girlfriend."

"Phuc Tran has a girlfriend?"

"Yeah. Her name's Sarah or something."

"Is she Asian too?"

I shrugged. "I've never seen her. He just told me they went on a date and that's why he didn't do his part of the project."

"Oh. How's Calc II going?"

I shrugged. I wasn't a mathematical person in the slightest but my father was convinced that I was going to use it to become a mathematician. It didn't help that I was good at it. I looked at my watch and laid my head back on the chair. It was too early to make the excuse that my mom wanted me to be home, especially since my grandmother moved in to help with my younger siblings and my mom has let up on being so strict with me.

"So, Alex is already taking someone else to prom."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Amber Wynn. That bitch on the cheerleading squad."

I heard one ofthe Vietnamese women say something catty that made the other one laugh. I smirked. Chelsea, noticing my smile, was down my throat in an instant.

"What are they saying?"

"She said her daughter has a boyfriend like that now. Her friend found it funny because her daughter isn't allowed to date yet."

Chelsea didn't believe me but stopped talking for a couple minutes.

"Why do they all do nails?"

"They?"

"Well... You know..."

"Mia Farrow," one of the nail techs chimed in. "She teach new immigrants to make money for when we come here for better life."

"We just need money to make our families successful," the other added.

"I am really doctor," the first said with a proud smile. "I just need better English."

"My son is going to be lawyer," the other added. "We almost make enough to send him to college."

Chelsea quieted, even when the women switched back to Vietnamese and continued talking. She was silent up until we were walking away from the salon towards the food court.

"Did you have to learn English?"

"Yeah. Little bit."

"I was surprised when she spoke in English."

"I noticed."

"Why don't they just speak English then?"

Before I could tell her just how that was a stupid question, my phone wrang. It was my mom.

"Hello?" I said in Vietnamese.

"Naomi?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"Where are you?"

"At the mall."

"Good. I'm driving past there and will pick you up. Come through Macy's."

"Yes ma'am."

I hung up and turned to Chelsea.

"I have to go now. See you in English tomorrow."

Before she could answer, I turned and waddled down the hallway towards Macy's.