Page 43 of The Broken Hearts Club

I took a seat in the chair at his bedside. “Like what?”

He thought about it and said, “Do you think you’d ever try to find your birth parents?”

“I actually did that when I was twenty-three. I was out of college and making a lot of money at that start up I told you about, so I decided it was the perfect time to go to Korea. I’d dreamt about it for years. I grew up feeling like I never fit in, and I thought, how amazing would it be to go someplace where everyone was like me for a change?”

“And was it all you’d hoped for?”

“Not even close. I was a total outsider, way more than I’d been in my hometown. I didn’t know the language, the culture, the customs. I’d never felt so alone. Meeting my birth mom was the worst part. We could only communicate through an interpreter, and it was painfully obvious she wanted to be anywhere but there.”

“I’m sorry, Miller. That sucks.”

“It really did. I asked her why she gave me up, and she said she’d gotten pregnant by accident and had no interest in being a mother. Turns out my dad was some rando she met in a bar. She didn’t even remember his name. So, she gave me up for adoption and pretty much never gave me a second thought—until I showed up and tried to have the most awkward family reunion ever.”

“Damn.”

“At least I found out my birth name. But then, that sucked too, because it turned out my adopted parents had known it all along. They’d just chosen not to tell me, even when I’d asked.”

“What was it?”

“Su-Jin Kim. Although in Korean it’s last name first, so Kim Su-Jin.”

“That’s pretty. Have you ever thought about going by it?”

“Nah. At least Miller is familiar. If I went by Su-Jin, I think I’d feel like an imposter—someone playing at being Korean with no real understanding of what that even means.”

“I get it. You know what’s wrong with Miller, though?”

“Do tell.”

“It makes me feel like a dude-bro who’s always calling you by your last name.” He deepened his voice and exclaimed, “Hey Miller, whassup!” Then he grabbed my wrist and hoisted up my hand to high-five me. “It’s like I should be wearing a backwards baseball cap and pledging a fraternity.”

I grinned at that. “Would it be better or worse to call me by my actual last name?”

“Anderson feels more like a first name. Maybe that’s because of Anderson Cooper or something.”

“Maybe.”

“What’s your middle name?”

“Robert.” A huge smile spread across his face, prompting me to ask, “What?”

“I was thinking about calling you Millie, and now I find out you’re Millie Bobby.” I stared at him blankly, and he said, “As in the actress? Millie Bobby Brown, from Stranger Things?”

“Oh. Right.”

“I’m totally calling you that from now on.”

“Do you have to?”

“I think I do.”

“Well, I can’t really argue with you. Not today.”

“True! I can probably get you to agree to anything right now.”

I admitted, “Yeah, you probably could.”

“How about matching tattoos? Crap-ay Diem in huge letters across your chest?”