Page 83 of Don’t Be A Stranger

Bora shakes her head and smiles. “Just looking.”

Dae begins looking at the shelves of ceramics and Bora looks at the same jewelry table Summer had. My hand goes to my wrist where the bracelet she picked out for me still rests. I can’t help but run my finger along the beads.

“You said that this is where smaller artists sell their work?” Dae asks.

I busy myself with the table of small art prints, not really looking at anything in particular. “Yeah.” I nod. “Just people trying to get their art out there.”

“Is there anything of yours in here?” Bora grins. She already has at least five necklaces in her hand.

“Oh god no,” I snort.

Bora and Dae immediately snap their heads in my direction and I’m starting to think that I might’ve said something wrong.

“Why not?” Bora arches her eyebrow. “Your stuff is good.”

I wave her off. “You’ve only seen a few things I made in high school.” I look at Dae. “And you’ve only seen art I drew when I was a kid.”

Dae shrugs but goes back to looking at coasters. “I think it was pretty good for a five year old.”

That’s what most people say to kids, just to boost their ego. Then as they get older, they come to realize they’re no longer the ingénu. If they could ever call themselves that in the first place.

“I think you should.” Bora walks up and nudges my shoulder, deciding to be nosey with what I’m looking at.

“I just want you to have the things you want and if this is what you want, then I say go for it.”

Summer has always been that type of person. If she wanted it, she was going to get it. No questions asked but I’ve never been like that.

“I don’t know,” I try to laugh to keep myself from crying in an art boutique, which I guess wouldn’t be the worst place to bawl. “I’m not amazing at everything like you guys.”

I’m mediocre at best.

Dae and Bora take a quick glance in each other’s direction before their eyes land on me.

“Not true,” they say at the same time.

See, they both say that, but what do I have to show for it? Bora is head chef at some fancy uptown restaurant in New York. Dae is a literal doctor. They both did sports in school. Always had good grades. Constantly brought good news to our parents. All I could ever bring to the table was art I drew at school that day that my parents didn’t even bother to put up on the fridge.

Bora slaps my arm. “Don’t let what our parents say live in your head,” she spews out in Korean. “They don’t matter, okay? I’m not going to let you live your life thinking that they do, because Mom and Dad are just people who should have no effect on us. They’ve never cared about anyone but themselves.”

Both Dae’s and my eyes widen.

Dae then adds, “She’s right. Our parents seem proud of me now, but they were upset that I started my practice in Korea.”

My eyes narrow and I disregard the art prints in my hands. “What are you talking about? Eomma and Appa seemed happy that you were going back home.”

“Oh, no,” Dae chuckles. “They asked me why I’d go back to the place they took us away from. Said I was undoing all of their hard work.” He laughs.

Bora nods. “They didn’t speak to me for two whole weeks when I told them I was going to culinary school. That’s apparently not prestigious enough for them.”

That can’t possibly be right. When Bora and Dae left the house, all my parents could talk about was how I needed to be like my siblings. How perfect they were and how Dae and Bora had never disappointed them.

I genuinely don’t think anything will ever be good enough for our parents. That’s not to say that everything they’ve ever told me still doesn’t sting, I’m now just less alone in the constant criticism.

I grin. “So, you two aren’t perfect at everything?”

Bora scoffs. “No, I’m amazing at everything I do, River.”

Dae and I both roll our eyes as Bora turns to look at the canvas bags. My older brother comes to stand next to me and sorts through the art prints that were in my hands. “I agree with Bora. I think you should try selling your art here.”