PART ONE
The SS Sunk Cost
Sumi
PinksPosies&Pearls:I have a confession to make.
This is going to sound bananas, so don’t judge me. I’m giving you fair warning.
I haven’t told anyone I’m moving.
I haven’t said a peep to anyone yet. Not my family, not my boyfriend.
I haven’t told anyone but you. It’s like you’re the only one who knows me.
The real me, at least.
I haven’t even quit my job yet??
Isn’t that ridiculous? What is wrong with me?!
PinksPosies&Pearls:the school year is finally, FINALLY over.
Pretty soon we’ll be in that home stretch of spirit days and graduation rehearsal.
Which means, at the very least, I’llhaveto tell my principal and union contact.
And if I’m telling my job, I can’tnottell everyone else in my life.
Again - what is wrong with me?!
I don’t even understand what my thought process was on this.
I guess I just wanted to keep it for myself for a little bit.
Is that selfish?
“Do it for the plot or take the L, Chapin.”
“Too late, I’m already bored. L rizz.”
A swell of voices cascaded over each other in a waterfall of incomprehensible insults and jeers as Sumi tipped her head back, staring up at the ceiling, phone securely concealed beneath a book. Her students were speaking their native tongue, of which she had only the most rudimentary grasp, and as long as they weren’t doing each other any bodily harm, she couldn’t be moved enough to translate. Not when she was so close to the finish line.
The house had a sunroom. It was the thought she kept coming back to, over and over again, a giddy bubble of excitement crowding her lungs as she envisioned nights spent there, stretched out on the long, low sofa. She would be able to see the moon from the walls of windows, would be able to see the night sky all around her. The windows in her condo were undersized and high on the walls, often leaving her feeling as if she were in a cave.
Even though the possibility that she would wind up stumbling down the two shallow steps into the sunroom and go sprawling on the floor was, dare one say it, an inevitability, for now, Sumi was enamored with the sunken space.
She was going to fill it with plants. Hanging baskets of trailing greens, her cebu blue and manjula pothos, training her golden to climb over the curtain rod, her pink lady callisia and strings of rubies and pearls cascading down in delicate ropes. Succulents on the low coffee table, with her prized pink princess philodendron and albo monstera providing pops of unexpected color amongst the greenery in places of honor near the sun-filled windows.
Of course, the house boasted other things — wonderful, sumptuous things — that her current condo was lacking. A walk-in closet. A deep soaking tub in the attached en suite bathroom, wide and long enough for her, she’d confirmed the day she’d clambered into it, fully clothed. There was a kitchen fit for someone possessing far greater culinary ability than she possessed, and for the first time in her life, a formal dining room. Sumi had a feeling none of these things were actually extraordinary, but when compared with the decade spent in her current condo, her twenties in even smaller apartments and student housing, and the open-concept house of her childhood, the kitchen island and dining room made her feel as if she were moving into a palace.
Most importantly, the house was in Cambric Creek, a thriving multi-species community an hour away, with an excellent school district and not a single job opening to which she might be able to apply. New town, new house, new job, a whole new life, just waiting for her to roll up to the curb with the moving van.
Sumi listened idly to the pockets of chattering students around her, their nonsensical conversations blurring together into a slurry of unconnected thoughts and slang.
“Deadass, did you see his drip?”
“I know, but he’s so baby girl.”
