The Supernova Effect

Chapter 2

Daisuke

My mother hated places like this.

Said the smell of motor oil clung to people. Sank into their skin. Announced itself before they even opened their mouths.

Which was ironic, considering I'd chosen this place specifically because she hated it.

Some people inherit family businesses.

I inherited disappointment.

"Yo," Eli called from across the bay. "Your mom's here."

Of course she was.

I rolled myself out from under the car and wiped grease across my jaw with the back of my wrist before spotting her near the entrance.

She always arrived looking untouched by the world. White pantsuit. Pearl earrings. Not a strand of hair out of place while the garage baked beneath fluorescent lights and exhaust fumes.

She was holding a glass container wrapped neatly in cloth.

Lunch.

Which, with my mother, usually meant control disguised as kindness.

For a second, I was eight again—standing stiff in a department store while she adjusted my tie hard enough to choke me.

"Hey, Miss Hana," Eli grinned, wiping his hands on his coveralls. "You look expensive."

He flashed her an easy grin, gold chain glinting against his dark skin beneath the collar of his oil-stained shirt. Even covered in grease, Eli somehow looked effortlessly put together.

My mother laughed softly. Practiced. Polite.

"Hello, Elijah."

Her eyes found me immediately.

Then the grease on my shirt.
The car behind me.
The garage itself.

Disapproval traveled silently with her. It always had.

"Daniel," she said.

There it was.

The version of me she preferred.

Cleaner. Easier for wealthy Americans to pronounce over champagne glasses and charity auctions.

Daisuke sounded too Japanese for the world she wanted me to belong to.

I grabbed a rag off the toolbox. "What do you need?"

I grabbed a rag off the toolbox. "What do you need?"

"I had your black suit pressed for the Nakamura Foundation banquet tonight," she said, handing me the container carefully.

My shoulders tightened instantly. "I told you I wasn't going."

"You told me you were 'thinking about it,'" she corrected lightly.

"That's not what I said."

"No," she replied smoothly. "But it's what you meant."

Eli suddenly became very interested in organizing sockets behind me.

I exhaled slowly through my nose.

My mother smiled like we were discussing weather instead of steamrolling my entire evening.

"The driver will pick you up at six-thirty," she continued. "Sofia's parents are expecting you."

"I already told you I have somewhere else to be."

"A garage party is not more important than your future."