Tomorrow was Chinese New Year, the time of year when tourists would swarm Chinatown. That was why the booths nearby were full of red decorations, golden packages, and little trinkets. It was the best money-making time of year.

The fifth of February this year was the one time I would be freed from my parents, free to go wander around town with my friends. Of course, I only had friends who were here, so there was no point in leaving Chinatown.

I resented my white classmates who talked about shopping and going to visit family over the weekend. Today was Friday, but I had nothing to do but be with my family. They showed off their designer bags and clothes when we went to school on Monday, and I had nothing. Just things my parents had pulled out of the bargain bins at a department store.

I disliked when they told me about their new cars. My family rarely even used our beat-up, secondhand minivan.

It was irritating that they had everything in life while I didn’t. But it was discouraging when all I could do was study and pray to get into a good college while they could pay their way into a university.

I walked upstairs.

June was asleep on the couch, her homework long forgotten. I pulled a blanket over her. The pages in her book wrinkled as she rolled over. I pulled her pen from her fingers and put it into a pencil bag. Her book report was finished, if a little messy, so I pulled her homework folder out from under her head.

Mama came up behind me. She began chopping up vegetables for dinner. Dad stayed downstairs to set up for tomorrow.

“Are you all right?” Mama asked. She looked over at me while she poured soy sauce into the pan.

“I’m fine,” I lied. I hated being here when I didn’t have to, and I’d probably be forced to help out with the mid-morning crowd.

“Have you eaten yet?” Mama asked. She was humming something.

“Yeah, I had something to eat. I’m going to sleep,” I said, making sure to point at the takeout boxes from Chipotle.

Her eyes flickered. She was either about to explode into a storm of anger, or she would ignore what I’d done.

“Good night. We need you to be ready to help us tomorrow,” Mama said. She began to plate the food she’d made.

“Yes, of course," I promised.

Morning greeted me with the smell of steamed buns. I grabbed a granola bar from the table and made my way downstairs.

Dad was selling paper lanterns to a group of blond students. They were chattering about the appearance Lilith Holloway was making here today. She was a world-class model who had her roots here, in Houston, deep in the heart of Chinatown.

“Rachael! Over here!”

I turned when I heard my name being yelled. It was Louise Cho and her siblings. They were wearing golden pants and red tunic tops stitched with golden thread. Tommy and Henry smiled at me when I walked up to them.

We ducked under our giant lion costume and made our way through the crowd of people to reach the parade. Louise was guiding us because she had the best eyesight.

The parade began wandering down the three miles we had planned out. Loud clangs of cymbals and the beat of drums began to echo through Chinatown. The tourists surrounding us cheered.

I sighed when Louise began to move. Henry kept his arms held out behind her. Tommy cheered when he heard the first firecrackers being set off.

We shimmied and danced with the huge green, pink, and white dragon next to us. I had asked to be in the lion dance, even if my back ached and my arms hurt, because this was the one time I would be away from my parents.

Louise inched toward the children holding out coins. The lion collected money in its mouth, but I had sewed a trash bag under it. That way, we wouldn’t have to stuff the money in our pockets when we should be moving.

Louise let out a roar and the little girl in front of her giggled, putting in some money. We would count this money after the parade and split it as evenly as we could. Last year it had been seventy-five dollars.