Catalyst of Dreams

4. The Favorite

“Kenta, your English is getting so good,” Shailene says as she passes the bean sprout salad to him. She has a bit of dark eyeliner on to accentuate her brown eyes and has her hair tied up into two side buns to show off her newly dyed purple tips. 

“Oh. Thank you very much” he politely bows his head. “Your dad. Very good teacher. Very good coach also.”

“Thank you Kenta!” My dad boasts. “But you, son, are the reason we will win this league. Keep playing like today, and you are definitely going to go pro.”

“Oh that is very kind of you” Kenta says. “You and your family are very very kind.”

I steal a glance and see that he is looking back at me. It was brief enough that no one notices but me. I try to swallow the rice I am chewing and almost choke.

“Bree are you fine?” Kenta asks me.

“Kuh! Kuh! Hmm” I clear my throat with some water. “Yes. Kuh! Yes I’m fine. Wrong pipe.”

“Brianna, please be more careful, and try not to cough on the food” says my mother.

I’m sure she doesn’t mean to be that cold but she tends to be tense when we have company.

“Yes mom” I respond, hoping I never have to say anything again for the rest of dinner.

“So Kenta, do you have a girlfriend?” asks Shailene. She can be so nosy.

“Shay! That’s personal” says Mr. Lewis “Kenta I apologize, my daughter loves gossip.”

“Well if Kenta is single, dad, I have a friend who wouldn’t mind a date” Lindsey pipes up.

Of course she does. I am not surprised that the two of them seem to be conspiring together.

“Oh no no. Please. No thank you” says Kenta, to my... relief?  “I am okay. Right now.”

Lindsey simply shrugs. She is the prettiest of the Lewis girls, yet. Her perfectly straight black hair always shined and stayed in place. Her makeup is flawless and accentuates her high cheekbones. 

Seeing how uncomfortable Kenta seems, Mr. Lewis begins to ask Lindsey about her own relationship. 

That does the trick.

She is more than happy to oblige and drones on while Shailene boosts the conversations with lots of “I can’t wait to go on dates like that” and “I hope Jacob gets a clue and asks me out already.”

This now makes Mr. Lewis uncomfortable as he tries to look to my mother for moral support.

She smiles at him and reminds him, this is what having teenage girls look like.

I notice Kenta isn’t very social. Maybe it’s because he isn’t as comfortable with his English but he is different on the field. It’s like he shares a whole different language with all the players but once he’s off the field, he keeps to himself.

“Bree, honey did you hear me?”

“Huh? What?”

“Urth to Bree-lee!” Jane says in between bites of rice soaked in water, getting my attention.

“Hun, I said, promise me you’re not going to date for a very long time” my dad repeats.

“Oh! I swear. Dating is gross” I say solemnly.

“That’s my girl!”

Kenta might be his favorite student, but I am my dad’s true favorite. He loves all his daughters, obviously, but I am the one he relates to the most. My older sisters are always busy goggling at boys and gossiping and my youngest has already established herself as “mama’s angel” and wants to go everywhere mama goes.

I am the only one who enjoys doing things other than shopping for clothes and makeup. I love a good one-on-one basketball game or fishing with him and enjoy watching baseball games. My sisters are only interested in the players.

I refuse to be like them.

* * *

“Brianna?”

There is something about the way my mother uses my whole name that never sits well with me.

“Yes mom?”

“I need you to do the dishes. I’ve got to give Jane a bath and get her to bed”

I resist the urge to grunt.

“Yes okay” I say reluctantly.

“Bree-lee will you come read me a sto-wee when you’re done? Puh-lease?”

I look at my mother who gives me a nod to say yes.

“Of course Janie-bear. After your bath, pick your favorite book and I will read to you.”

“Thank you Bree-lee! Mama come on! I gotta take a bath so Bree-lee can read to me!” She commands excitedly.

Jane has called me “Bree-lee” for as long as I can remember. She is a plump little girl with rosy cheeks and a toothy smile. 

“Okay angel.”

My mother picks up a very bouncy Jane and heads towards their room. This would be one of those rare moments when my mother allows her bathroom sanctuary to be cluttered with toys and Mr. Bubble bubble bath.

“I help you?”

I turn around and see Kenta standing in the doorway to the kitchen. I can hear the faint chatter of my dad and sisters in the living room. Probably talking about everything they need for their summer swimming lessons at the community center. That is probably the most athletic thing they did. I admit, I’m not the best swimmer and probably should do lessons, but I’ve survived long enough on doggy-paddling. Plus, the lessons took up too much of the day which I've reserved for playing and tree-climbing.

“Bree?"

“Oh yes. But you don’t have to. I can do it”

“I help you. Yes?” He asks, or tells me, politely.

“Yes” is all I can say. I feel my cheeks flush a bit when he smiles in response.

I clumsily start fidgeting with the faucet to get the water running.

I could hear him rummaging around the kitchen to get the dishes to the sink.

Once I start to fill the sink I sense him standing next to me. I try not to glance up as we work to get a good rhythm going cleaning and drying the dishes.

We stay silent the Whole. Awkward. Time. I have to remind myself to breathe. 

When we are close to being done, I hear a light knock on the kitchen doorway.

I jump as if I was caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

“Bree hun, Jane is asking for you” my dad says “Oh Kenta! I was wondering where you had gone. Thank you, but you don’t have to do dishes. You’re our guest”

“Please. I help. Erm. I am guest, yes. I eat here. I sleep here. I help Bree also.” Kenta replies.

“Well if you insist, I’m sure Bree appreciates your help.”

“Umm. Yeah. I mean yes. Thank you Kenta.” I manage to say. I’m sure he meant he wants to help everyone, not just specifically me.

“We’re done so I can go now.” I hurriedly made to leave the kitchen. I stop before the doorway before spinning around to say a quick “thank you.”

I then make a dash to my parent’s room before my blushing becomes noticeable.

I take a deep breath before walking in where I can hear Jane giggling and my mom teasing her.

“Janie-bear! What story did you pick for tonight?”

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