Another me

PTE

r sleep, Kalamazoo where my family immigrated to, has an unofficial yet respected curfew. The scenic town is located in Michigan state and has a mixture of groomed greenery and picket-fence houses. Lampposts with ornate designs almost seem like accessories on the impeccably clean streets lined with small commercial buildings that are wh

y states involved neon lights and glass skyscrapers, a multicultura

e told me to be thankful my uncle-my father's older brother, who has lived in Tennessee for some years-is a generous and kind man with the means t

in their performance. I've walked past the studio a few times, during the rare occasions my mom forces me to leave the house and run errands with her. Each time, I've stared through the window and watched either a dance routine or a musical per

briefly, a small furrow between his eyebrows, then turns to me. "Don't judge me," he says with a hand on his chest. "I'm a little wi

e more precise, why is he ru

you out right now. I didn't mean to. I was just ... um ... sorry." He smi

eyes. "Why are you dressed

ckles.

like you're about to rob a house but can't afford a

that most burglars are on a bud

that smart burglars invest in g

I'm not a very

e. "It seems l

d speaking. I've forgotten about my accent and the feeling of inadequacy I developed since moving he

ise. I'm actually trying to avoid some people." He turns around and surveys the

to avoid your

you know? Some time to myself. So I planned to grab a video gam

his empty hand. "W

e to grab one. I was lookin

he rescue of m

h. And then aft

I frown, then lift

r accent. I wanted t

ccent? I don't

tes his lip. "Right

m. He likes my accent, one of two things that make me sta

ol. Did your whole

h; I get wrapped up in a movie about teenagers; I meet a peculiar guy in a terrible disguise, and my grief is temporarily

s the

ught myself how to survive these moments, how to contain my gri

reathe with

and

and s

blue water flowing through me-dousing the fl

, laced with a touch of co

es. But I need to go. Than

orry for ... you k

then stop. "You kn

kes hi

g at my face this entire time, an

that's unfair." In one swift motion,

ct to his striking hazel-brown eyes. Soft flutters explode in my stomach, then intensify and

you o

away from his and look toward the pat

eet. There's an irrepressible urge at the pit of my stomach,

I