Page 49 of Okay, Cupid

“Hey, Alice.” Huy’s a little louder, though no more confident.

“Are you ready to head out?” I ask her before I turn to Huy. “I’m going to need a lot of tutoring today.”

“Yeah …” Alice stands there, still unmoving. Okay, so I’ll have to push a little more.

“Huy, you were heading to the bakery to work, right?”

“Uh, yeah! Yep.” It seems like my words have snapped him out of some trance.

I look back to Alice. “Maybe we could study there?”

This is perfect. They’re both too distracted, too caught up in their own feelings to really realize what I’m saying. Their eyes are locked together, and they’re falling. I know those looks. They’re thinking about regrets, about lost time, about what they shared together and how they both miss it so badly.

Oh, I’m good.

“Come on,” I tell Alice, the bus deciding to pull up before either of them can even think about what I’ve said. “Are you riding the bus today?” I ask Huy as I step on, keeping one foot on the platform. Since his truck worked last night, I have no idea what his call will be.

“Uh, no,” he says. “I’ve got to get my sister first.”

“Cool, then we’ll see you later!” I wave, stepping on and scanning my phone at the card reader. Alice takes a spot near the middle of the bus, picking one of the seats that faces the back.

“Can we go somewhere else?” she asks.

“I feel like that went well!” I assure her. The uglier side of being a Cupid means pushing people to do things that they wouldn’t normally be comfortable with. Putting yourself out there is one of the scariest things anyone can do.

“I don’t know if I want to see him yet.”

“You told me that you missed him,” I remind her. “That you wished things could be different.”

“Yeah, I do. But I just … you know …” For the first time in the weeks that I’ve known her, Alice seems at a loss for words.

“Well, maybe this will be a good thing? It might make things easier!”

“Jude …”

“Just give it a chance. If you’re too uncomfortable, then we’ll leave. Just say the word.”

She looks at me for a moment before closing her eyes and letting out a long sigh. “I want the udon place at H Mart. I haven’t been there in years because I didn’t want to run into him. I always made my dad go there by himself.”

“Deal. Udon sounds good.”

“Besides, I miss his parents’ donuts.”

“You know, I still haven’t tried them. Not since you stole mine.”

“Oh.” Alice turns back to me, looking excited. “You’ll understand why I stole yours.”

Trinh’s Donuts is another bus ride away from where we get off, situated among a few restaurants and shops on a corner of the much more residential Sunset District. Traffic is already backed up running through Golden Gate Park, so by the time we make it on the 29 it takes us a bit longer than I’d like. But I keep telling myself it’s fine. It’ll be fine. We won’t miss Huy.

The shop is situated on the corner, right across from the H Mart just like Huy promised. Trinh’s Donuts is a small shop, sort of a hole-in-the-wall, the building painted a soft pink with a bright yellow awning that hangs over the large window, where a large—and deliciously painted—donut decorates the entrance.

I recognize Huy’s dad behind the counter, next to a woman I’m guessing is Huy’s mother.

“Thanh!” The woman I assume to be Huy’s mother exclaims Alice’s Vietnamese name, a smile wide on her face. She almost races from around the counter to come and wrap Alice in a tight hug.

“Lâu rồi con không đến thăm,” Huy’s mom says in Vietnamese, her words excitable. “Bác nhớ con nhiều lắm.”

“Con cũng nhớ hai bác.”