Page 51 of Strictly Against Policy

“I—” I started and lost my voice to surprise. I didn’t know his dad had passed away. “I’m sorry about your loss.” Those were the only words I could say.

He wore a gentle smile, keeping his gaze and hands locked on unwrapping his food. “It’s alright. You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

I thought his parents were divorced when he mentioned that his family only consisted of him, his sister, and his mom. I never considered that his dad had passed away.

“My mom isn’t wrong, though. Regardless of whether my dad was still here with us or not, it’s the truth,” he continued.

At the same time, we both reached into the small paper bag on the center console for the toppings and condiments. Our hands brushed against one another’s before Jonathan flinched. He snatched his hand back.

“Your hands are as cold as ice!” he exclaimed as I pulled out what I needed.

I simply smiled at him as I poured salsa roja and guacamole salsa all over my two tacos. “It’s cold outside. What did you expect?”

“Well, the heat is at full blast, so I’d expect you to be warm and cozy by now,” he huffed, grabbing his share of condiments.

“I get cold easily,” I scoffed.

He shook his head with a soft huff. “Just like my sister.”

We took a moment to eat our food before we continued talking, moaning in agreement about how great the street tacos were. Every once in a while, he’d offered me his drink, and I’d take him up on it, sipping the watermelon agua fresca. The two of us finished the food in a matter of minutes. Jonathan went back out to toss the trash. Before he did, he turned off the car, allowing me to sit in silence.

The loud chatter from the line for the taco truck reached us from the distance as cars drove by on the road. I was never the type to truly enjoy the nightlife. I’d gone out with Mary and Eric twice before, to bar hop with Eric’s friends, and I didn’t like it. There was something about being out in the darkness, even with a large group of friends, that unsettled me.

It gave me anxiety because I always felt like someone was watching me from the darkness. However, I didn’t mind sitting in this poorly lit parking lot, just eating and enjoying the slow drip of time. With Jonathan, I felt relaxed.

“You’re not cold, are you?” he asked when he came back to the car.

I offered him some hand sanitizer to get rid of the grease and oil from the tacos; he accepted without hesitation. I also offered him a strawberry hard candy from my bag, which he declined.

“No, it’s hot now. Your jacket is warm enough. The food was great, by the way. Thank you,” I answered, playing with the strawberry candy.

Jonathan smiled broadly, leaning back in his seat. He finished sipping his drink. “Glad to hear you like it.”

He didn’t move to start the ignition again, nor did I want to mention anything about heading home. Being here with him was nice. Comfortable. I enjoyed it.

“You and your sister seem really close,” I said.

He nodded instantly. “Yeah, I’d say I’m quite close to her. Same goes for Shoua. She’s essentially our older sister,” he said.

“I like how you and Julie bicker. It’s funny.”

He shrugged. “I guess it’s funny, but I think most people find it annoying. It’s just what siblings do though, right?”

I hesitated, unsure. “Not my siblings. Neng and Mai are older than me by six and eight years. They’re closer in age, so they bicker. But I don’t. If I responded to their remarks, it’s considered an offense. Not just a simple jab.”

The words were supposed to stop there before I divulged any more of myself, but my lips kept moving. In this tiny space, lost in time and darkness, I felt safe enough to just talk—to say the things I had always wanted to say. I had only divulged these things to Mary once, and then never again, not wanting to feel like I was pitying myself.

With Neng stalking and harassing me and the lack of empathy from my parents or Mai, I’d begun to ponder it all again.

“Both my older sister and brother say I grew up being the favorite while they were the ones our parents never cared about . . . which, I suppose, is also the reason why we were never close,” I said. “The truth is this: our parents never cared about anyone else but themselves. They were never home to care for us. They stopped caring the moment my sister was old enough to make us a pot of rice and scrambled eggs.”

I sighed, looking out the windows. Everything was slowly being cloaked in foggy condensation again as I thought about Mai and the responsibilities thrown at her at such a young age. I frowned. “I don’t know how any parent would expect an eleven-year-old to look after her younger siblings, but my parents did. Even then, once my siblings became teenagers, they were never home. I learned how to care and look after myself at a young age.”

I paused for a handful of seconds, allowing myself to let the words I just muttered ring out loud.

“My family dynamics are complicated. I’m their caretaker, but they don’t respect me,” I continued. “I’m the one they come to when they need money, but they don’t invite me to family outings unless I’m the one paying for everything.”

I stared off into the hazy windshield in front of us. “That’s why I never considered the idea of dating. Or . . . even allowed myself to make friends with anyone other than Mary and her husband, Eric. Why should anyone else know about the mess and constant instability that my family is? The answer is no one.”