15

— Emilie and I both decide that it's getting late actually only she decided since I wouldn't mind —spending the entire night being with her so I drive out of Koreatown and back onto the 101, heading south. Even at ten o'clock, there's heavy traffic all along the freeway, a constant battle of changing lanes and avoiding accidents with the overwhelming number of cars going bumper-to-bumper. I know I keep bitching about the traffic in LA, but it's seriously ridiculous, seeing as how I'll be stuck here all night. I'm lucky that I told my parents that I'll be spending the night at Gabriel's, so that we can both study for the MCAT together, which fortuitously,

— we'll be taking next week well maybe not fortuitously. My parents would have gone off on me if they knew that I was on a date, but what do I really have to lose? They already control everything that I do, everything that I wear, everywhere that I go. What else can they possibly do? I guess that if they ever find out that I'm on a date with Emilie, then they'll have the feather duster ready to go, which is no big deal because my ass is immune to it by now.

“ stations thankfully. So Johnson, did you have fun tonight? Emilie inquires, smiling deeply,”
waiting for my answer.
“You trying on those dresses for me is enough fun for a lifetime, I honestly tell her.”
“But of course, you would've had more fun if I tried on lingerie, right? Emilie stresses,”

beating me to the punch.
“You are wise beyond your years, my dear, I quickly profess, and definitely more” “
beautiful beyond your years.”
“The last part doesn't make any sense but I'll take that as a compliment, Emilie says,”
giving me a puzzled, yet amiable look. We both laugh as I finally get into the right lane so that
I can take interstate 5 and get off the dreadful 101.
If there is a god of traffic, then he or she, or it must be in a good mood, because the— —
5 is wide open and clear for driving. For some odd reason, I don't see a single car on the road, other than mine of course, and I've been driving for nearly fifteen minutes. This is a rarity here in Southern California so I definitely won't take it for granted, not knowing if I'll ever
have a chance like this again. I'm very appreciative of the finer things in life such as no traffic. In a record time of only thirty-five minutes, I make it to Emilie's house, driving the entire
way without even speeding. Maybe I should be a professional race car driver instead of being
a doctor; my parents will be happy to know that they make more money anyway. Emilie tells
me the gate code as I pull up to the telecom. The gate opens and I slowly enter the driveway,
parking the car near the front door. With no rush to leave, Emilie and I just sit there and the
next thing we know, the both of us start chatting about which medical schools we plan to apply
to. Her eyes are set on Stanford while my eyes are set on...the MCAT. I honestly don't care
about which medical school that I get into since I'm only going because my parents are —wanting me to forcing me to, I mean. So as long as I get into medical school, then I'll be fine
and hopefully my parents will finally be proud of me.
“I'm going to be studying all day and night this entire week for the MCAT so I haven't
even started looking at medical schools, I tell Emilie.”
“ ”But you must have some idea, Emilie insists, not believing my answer. “If I had a choice, it would be Stanford just because you're going.”
“That's sweet, Johnson. But you really need to focus on your future. What will your
parents think?”
“Honestly? I don't really care anymore. Ever since I can remember, they've been
forcing me to get good grades, get a high SAT score, go to UCI and now, medical school. I
never get to make any of the decisions and it's my life! I'm really sick of all this pressure and ”overachieving. Aren't you? I ask, hoping that she'll be honest.
“Johnson. You're not the only one that feels this way. I'm sick of it too but what can you
do? I just want my parents to be proud of me.”
“I do too. That's why I'm going to medical school to become a doctor and forgetting my
dream of becoming a writer. I want them to be proud of me but sometimes, it's just too
much...it's just...too much—” I start crying uncontrollably. I can't help it. All my feelings of
anger and frustration have been bottled up for far too long and now that I'm finally able to
speak to someone about this, I let it all out, without fear or hesitation. I just hope I don't scare
the hell out of Emilie, since guys that cry don't exactly look cool.
Emilie unbuckles her seat belt and hugs me, holding me as I weep. I feel like such a wuss, crying to a girl but sometimes, things are so bad that you just can't help it. I know what“ you're going through, Johnson. If it makes you feel any better, I cried last week when my mom
told me that I would end up being a prostitute if I didn't get into medical school.” “ ”She really said that to you? I ask shockingly. Asian parents love to use
fearmongering tactics, like Emilie's mom, even though they really don't work and in the end,
ultimately hurt everyone involved.
“Yeah. Can you believe it? My own mom saying stuff like that. The things that they'll
say just to get you to listen to them. It's not like I wasn't already planning to go to medical
school. She just wanted to reinforce the idea, so that there's no chance of me changing my
mind. But I don't let her get to me. I know she means well. And we both know that our parents
care about us, but they just...have the worst way of showing it. So don't worry, once we
graduate, we'll be off somewhere else and we can start living our own lives.” “You're right, Emilie. I'm sorry. You must think I'm such a pussy for crying about this.” “Haha. Not at all. I think you're very sweet. In fact, you want to know something? I've
always had a crush on you, even all the way back in middle school. I've always known that
there's something about you that makes you different from all the other Asian guys. Don't get
mad but just like you crying right now. I find it honest and refreshing, believe it or not. Other
Asian guys wouldn't have the courage to cry, not even the courage to share their feelings.” “ ”I don't know what to say. I wipe away my tears and put the biggest smile on my face. “You don't need to say anything. I think tonight's been pretty eventful for the both of us.
Let's just go inside and get you cleaned up.”
Emilie opens the door to get out of the car and then I follow, getting out from my side.
The only light on is the front porch light, since her parents are out of town and her little sister
is spending the night at a friend's house. Emilie and I at her home alone what can two—
young, vibrant and energetic adults possibly do?
—

As I enter her house my shoes already off of course I can see that the inside looks just like Auntie and Oldest Auntie's, traditional and passé with antiquated Oriental furniture, lanterns hanging from the ceiling, red New Year couplets covering the walls below and wall scrolls that are almost identical in appearance this interior decorator must be making a—
fortune!

I sit down on the living room couch and grab a couple of tissues from the box of Kleenex on the glass coffee table. I notice a picture of her family in a large, gold garland picture frame, right next to the box of Kleenex. I bend over to take a closer look at the picture. Emilie and her sister are standing in front of their parents next to a tall willow tree at Heritage Park in Irvine. It's amazing that my own family took a picture just like this at Heritage Park, when Jordan and I were kids. In fact, we were standing in the exact same spot déjà vu! I— think all of us have been living in Irvine way too long, even taking pictures at the same place, in the same spot.

Now that I think about it, Emilie's family is just like mine except that I'm not Emilie and —
I'm a dude. But we're alike in that we both grew up with the same austere lifestyle, our parents controlling what we do, where we go, what we become even what we think. It doesn't really—
matter if you're Korean, Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese we are all cognizant of this austere—
programming.

Emilie comes back from the kitchen with two glasses of water, two for me, none for her —I'm only joking of course. She sits down right next to me, which instantly makes me forget about everything else in the world; she has a habit of doing this.

“ ”Is this tap water? I ask, not trying to be picky.
“ ”Yeah. Do you want something else? Emilie politely asks, being very hospitable. “Oh no, it's okay. I just...you drink tap water?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Do you know that they put a shitload of chemicals in it? From chlorine, which was

invented as a chemical warfare agent during World World I, to lead, arsenic, and fluoride. It's really bad for you.”
“But doesn't fluoride prevent tooth decay? Emilie inquires.”
“Well, there's a difference between natural fluoride and the sodium fluoride that municipal water treatment centers use. Natural fluoride, aka calcium fluoride, occurs naturally of course, but sodium fluoride is actually declared as toxic and hazardous waste by the EPA, Environmental Protection Agency. In fact, the Nazis put sodium fluoride in the water to sterilize Jewish prisoners and make them docile. Not to mention the fact that it's the key ingredient in sarin nerve gas and rat poison. Anyway, these municipal water treatment centers purchase sodium fluoride as waste from industries and then pumps it into the water supply.”
“Are you serious? Why doesn't anybody stop them? Emilie asks, expressing”
solicitude.
“Are you serious? Why doesn't anybody do anything anymore? Congress passed the Patriot Act, which violates every single constitutional amendment but no one does anything about it. George W. Bush and John Kerry ran against each other for President in 2004, yet they're both cousins, but no one does anything about it. Did you know that John McCain was born in Panama but still became the Republican frontrunner for President? He was born on a military base but even the U.S. DEPARTMENT OF STATE declares that that's not sovereign U.S. territory, so therefore, he's ineligible but no one does anything about it. And with Dick Cheney, the Vice President fromTexas,selected by George W. Bush alsofromTexas, even though the 12^thAmendment clearly states that the President and Vice President cannot be elected from the same state. Well, Dick Cheney has a Texas driver's license, filed his taxes from Texas, owns property in Texas and was even the President of Halliburton, in Houston, Texas. So guess what he did? He changed his residency right after he was selected as the V.P. but no one does anything about it.”
“Check out the big brains on Johnson! How do you know so much?”
“I just read and do research. But not the crap that they teach you in school. For example, did you know that Native Americans were made slaves by early Anglo-Americans? You won't find that in your history books because they want you to think that Americans have always treated them fairly, which is totally untrue. Also with Thanks taking,which most people believe involves the Mayflower and Plymouth Rock, but actually began as a holiday to celebrate and offer thanks-giving to god for the ambush and massacre of over 700 Native Americans, in order to exterminate non-Christians. Ask any Native American why they don't celebrate Thanksgiving—weare the only ones that do. Anyway, nobody does anything anymore because nobody cares anymore, like with Asians. Don't take this the wrong way but Asians only care about something in relation to how it affects them. They only care about their self-interest so if it doesn't involve money, status, or power, then it doesn't matter.”
“Wow. You pretty much nailed it. You're right. I'm guilty of that too. But you can't blame Asians, Johnson. It's society.”
“Well, last I checked, society doesn't talk, doesn't walk, doesn't have arms or legs. 'It's society' is just an excuse that people use because they don't want to take responsibility for their own actions. Remember the two kids that burned down their parents' trailer and the entire trailer park, because they learned it from watching Beavis andButthead? Then the parents sued MTV, blaming them for the entire incident. Well, first of all, where were they? Why were two kids home alone? And couldn't they put a lock on the cable box? They didn't want to admit that they failed as parents so they blame someone else, since they can't take responsibility for their own faults. Anyway, this is what typical Americans do blame society or— blame someone else but never blame themselves because it can never be their fault! I” exclaim lividly, getting all fired up.
“Professor Johnson, I bet you can go on all night, Emilie says gently, moving in closer.”
I think it's time for me to shut up now.
Seizing the moment, I lift my right hand to her face, running my index finger across her left cheek and down softly to her chin, curling my fingers lightly at the tip. I lean in, caressing the lower part of her chin then tilting it up towards me. My lips meet her lips, covering both our mouths with the intensity of passion and lust. Our kiss, even more potent now than at the Koreatown Galleria, shoots a fury of unfurling fire throughout my entire body, consuming me whole. My tongue eventually locks with hers, no key able to undo the embrace, nothing able to sever our unity.
I ease myself on top of her, lifting my right leg as I move sideways and accidentally kicking the box of tissues and the picture frame, both falling to the floor. We ignore the minor mishap and my hands slide down to her hips, pulling her closer to me. I can feel her body shaking, throbbing as I tighten my grip on her delicate hips, my breathing long and deep as I take in her wonderful scent.
Emilie grabs me by the gape of my neck, tenderly kissing and licking the tips of my ear, which sends electricity and frenetic energy down to my pulsating heart. (I don't know if I can take any more of this!) I cup her right breast with my hand, holding it snugly and letting it rest in my palm, then guiding my other hand up on her shoulder to slide down the strap of her bra, setting it free, setting her free.
Emilie stiffens her body as she gets up, putting a stop to our after-school activity. Hey“ let's not do this—“
“ ” “Yeah I know, I interrupt, it's only been our first date so we should take things slow and not go so fast.”
“ —No. I mean, let's not do this here on the couch. Let's go upstairs, Emilie instructs,” her smile just like heaven. I'm going to get lucky!
She wraps her hand around mine and leads me upstairs to her room. She turns on the light and I see numerous MCAT preparation books all over the floor and on her bed as well— what a turn off! She hurriedly knocks them off her bed and unto the floor with the rest of them — —where they truly belong and turns on the desk lamp with the press of a button. She then flips off the light switch and advances towards me in the still, now dimly-lit room what a turn— on! I touch her fabulous face with fondness and gaze into her magnificent eyes, which gleams of chestnut. Emilie then pushes me down to the bed and says Stay, like I'm a dog, which I'm“ ”
more than willing to be. She walks into the bathroom, presumably to freshen up to get ready for you-know-what and closes the door. I just now realize that my condoms are in the car! I quickly run down the stairs and out the front door, half-naked and shoeless. Grabbing the condoms from the glove compartment, I rush back into the house and upstairs into Emilie's room. Upon entering, I see her wearing an exquisite red satin, strapless corset with matching —lace thong panty and fishnet stockings I'm a deer caught in the headlights; in the word of the judicious Keanu Reeves: Whoa!“ ” “Emilie breathes a sigh of relief. For a moment there, I thought you got cold feet and decided to run off!”
I move in towards her and draw her against my body. I knew this night would end with“
”you in lingerie. I run my fingers through her hair and lift my other hand to show her the pack of condoms.
“ ”You're wrong, Emilie says, surprising the hell out of me.
“Wrong? Wrong about what?”
“Wrong that it's going to end with me in ”lingerie, Emilie declares boldly, untying the front strings of her corset.
“Whoa!”