Chapter 5 — Late Table Lady

The uniform shirt was swapped one day during PE class, when the whole class had to change shirts to participate in a relay game. An did not expect that a white shirt could create more trouble than a green lunch box.

After the gym teacher's whistle, the students ran towards the benches. An held the shirt in his hand and saw the name "K.Anh" written in cloth pen on the neck. She quickly put it on, then realized the sleeves were longer than usual and the chest pocket had a cat-shaped badge.

Truc Mai looked at her. “That's Duy's shirt from 11A3.”

“How do you know?”

“Duy raises three cats and shows off photos every day.”

An looked towards the classroom row. A boy was running around the yard, holding her shirt in his hand. The problem was that in her pocket there was a small envelope, and An knew it was a hotel discount coupon her father gave her in case she needed to meet an adult. The ticket has the Khai An logo very clearly.

If Duy opens it, her secret will no longer be a secret.

An ran after her, but her sneakers got stuck on her untied shoelaces. She collapsed on the floor, and Duy turned around because he heard a noise.

“Are you okay?”

"It's okay. My shirt..."

"Ah, I'm looking for it too. This shirt has your name on it."

Duy held out his shirt. Huy stood nearby and quickly grabbed the envelope before it fell to the ground. He looked at the logo, then looked at An. The smile on Huy's face disappeared in a very short second.

“I just picked it up by mistake,” An said.

"I see." Huy handed the envelope back. “But if you want to pretend, next time don't keep evidence in your pocket.”

An pulled him behind the warehouse. “What do you know?”

"Know that Khai An Hotel has a yellow logo. Know that my mother used to work as a receptionist there. Know that people like you don't usually use cloth wallets with three hundred thousand."

“I'm not the person you think I am.”

"I haven't thought about anything yet. I was just waiting for you to say it yourself."

An's throat feels dry. She can force Huy to keep it a secret by making promises, or giving money, or saying that this is a private matter. But Huy didn't ask to make things difficult for her. He just stood there, still holding the sports whistle, his hair disheveled from running.

“I don't want anyone to know my family has money,” An said. “I want to study normally.”

Huy was silent for a moment. "Then study normally. But don't treat others as supporting actors in your test."

An was stunned. The saying is both painful and true. She never thought she was turning the class into an experiment. She just wanted to prove that she could live. But the people around did not register to participate.

Huy returned the envelope and pointed to the logo. "I won't say it. But one day you have to speak for yourself before someone else speaks for you."

On the field, the class started a game of tug of war. An exchanged shirts with Duy and ran back to the line. Khang is standing at the end, bending to tie his shoe laces. He looked at the dust on her knee and didn't ask much.

“You fell?”

“Because of the pitch.”

“Does the field know how to follow you?”

“It has attitude.”

Khang smiled, then gave her a band-aid. "Put it on. Don't let the doctor see it, he will make you write a report for not tying your shoe laces."

The tug of war turned into a war between 11A4 and 11A3. Huy shouted the wrong slogan, Mai pulled so hard that her sandals fell off, and An used all his strength but still slipped. In the end, team 11A4 won thanks to Khang taking half a step back at the right time and pulling the rope across the line. The whole class hugged each other, no one remembered that they had just argued about the shirt.

After class, Quynh Nhu called An back. “You dropped this.”

Like giving her a small colored card black. An realized it was her family's premium gym membership card, which she had hidden in her purse since the day she moved in. The card doesn't have the hotel name on it, but the design is so different from any student ID card.

“Thank you,” An said, his voice low.

Like looking at the card and then giving it back. “I didn't ask.”

“Aren't you curious?”

“Yes. But curiosity is not the right to know everything.”

An was surprised by the answer. Like adjusting her hair tie, she continued: "Just don't let the secret affect the project. If there is sponsorship, let it be known. If there isn't, even better."

“I won't use housing money.”

“I believe.”

“You believe so quickly?”

Like shrugging. “No. I'm trying.”

In the afternoon, the group meets in the backyard. They built the first shelf frame, but one wooden bar was bent. Khang sawed back, An kept the ruler. Mai took photos of the progress, while Huy interviewed each person with a toy microphone.

“How do you feel about living among the wood bushes?” Huy asked An.

“I feel like my hair is becoming construction material.”

“Inspiring answer.”

An took a pen and wiped a streak of paint on Huy's nose. The group laughed. At that moment, a black car stopped outside the school gate. Her father's driver got out and gave An a small box.

“Mr. Khai told you to attend the family meeting tonight.”

An received the box. Inside was a party dress and a note: “Don't let the test take too long.”

Khang looked at the car, then at the box. He didn't say anything. Huy bent down to pick up the paint brush, pretending to be busy. Mai looked at An with worry.

I hate that moment. She hated that just one black car was enough to build a wall between her and the class. She hated that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't erase the family name from her shoes, watches, or clumsy habits.

“I have to go,” An said.

Khang nodded. "Remember your shift tomorrow. Six forty."

An hugged the box of dresses and looked at the pile of wood. “I will come.”

“What if there's a party?”

“I'll come after sweeping the yard.”

Khang looked at her for a long time, then smiled. “It was the logical first choice of a very unusual person.”

That night, at a family party with chandeliers and shiny plates, An sat quietly listening to his father talk about a hotel expansion project. The land adjacent to Tran Hung Dao school appears on the presentation screen, marked with a red border.

“The council wants to use the back yard for temporary parking,” her father said. “Just a backup plan.”

An looked at the red border. She remembered the pallets, the “No Tickets Backyard” sign, and the piece of paper someone had put in the bottom desk drawer.

“What if that plan affects the school?”

Her father stopped. “Are you asking as a girl or a student?”

An did not answer immediately. She remembered Huy's words: don't treat others as supporting actors. She remembered Khang's words: if you pay, the project will become your project.

“I'm asking as someone who will have to live with that decision,” she said.

For the first time that evening, her father wasn't looking at the screen. He looked straight at her, his expression more serious than usual.

"So please learn enough before protesting. And remember that big decisions always have many people responsible."

An nodded. When she returned to her room, she put the dress in the closet, put the uniform shirt on the chair and opened the project book. She added a line under the title: "It's not just about beautifying the yard. We have to find a way to let the yard stay."

The next morning, An Woke up with my knees still sore from the fall. She tied her shoelaces twice, then stood in front of the mirror to practice introducing herself without mentioning her father's name. “I'm Khanh An, in class 11A4.” The sentence sounded simple, but it took her seven tries to keep from reaching out to adjust the watch on her wrist.

In class, Huy heard the news that a black car appeared at the gate. He didn't ask directly, just put a piece of paper on An's desk drawing a car with legs.

“This car can move on its own,” Huy explained. “So you don't get picked up.”

An tore up the paper, but kept the piece shaped like a wheel.

Quynh Nhu arrived early and gave her the student council's rules on receiving sponsorship. As mentioned, if An's family is related to the land, the group needs to seek written approval from the school board.

An read carefully, then asked: "Do you want me to withdraw from the presentation?"

"No. But anything related to your family must be checked by someone else."

“Can you do it?”

Like nodding. “I will, if you will let me fix it.”

“I accept.”

It was the first agreement between two people that did not begin with doubt. Together they made a note about resources, including the black car that took An to the party but was not included in the project. Huy read it and said that line was too long. Nhu replied that clarity sometimes requires many words.

After class, An followed Khang to the yard. He asked about the party. An said the parking lot map made her worried, but did not mention that her father had shown the documents.

“You don't need to tell everything,” Khang said.

“I'm practicing saying relevant things.”

“That's good.”

The two of them rearranged the bookshelf. Khang tried pushing hard, the shelf stood firm. An placed on the first floor a box of old stories given to her by Ms. Dung. The box smelled of paper and fried onions, because it had once been placed next to the cafeteria.

“Can books smell like this?” An asked.

“Books go to many places,” Khang replied.

A 10th grade boy came to borrow a story. He asked if he could sit for a while because his younger brother was studying online at home. Khang said it's okay, just keep still. An gave him a piece of cardboard as a cushion and pointed to the chair that wobbled the least.

When the boy left, An asked: "Do you think the yard can be kept?"

Khang did not answer immediately. “I think we have to make it worth keeping.”

An looked at the rule board. “What if it still doesn't?”

“We'll look elsewhere.”

“You speak too softly.”

"I know the loss is not light. But if we only cling to one location, we will forget what we want to protect."

An remembers his father's words about choice. A place can change, but the way people treat each other must be carried away.

In the evening, she opened the envelope of her party dress and put it in the bottom of the closet. She didn't know how many more times she would have to wear it, but she didn't want it to define who she was. On the table, a small car light shines a streak of light on the project book. She wrote: "There are things that need to be told truthfully, but not everything needs to be said at the same time."

The day begins with tying shoelaces, a swapped shirt, and a chart with a red border. An doesn't have the answer yet, but she has a group to look for. That's the difference between the girl getting off the bus on the first day and the girl sitting at the last table.