Chapters (93)
- Cover
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Books by Kelly Yang
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
That weekend, I’m on Chrome, trying to decide whether to forward my teammates the email I wrote to Mr. Connelly. Would that prove anything?
I open a new tab and type in sexual harassment in high schools in California. The first article that comes up is on the Marlborough all-girls school scandal, where a teacher had an inappropriate relationship with a student. I think back to the plane to Seattle when Mr. Connelly told us we were debating Marlborough—and to think that he was going to try to pull something twenty-four hours later just like the Marlborough teacher! And now I’m being punished for my ability to compartmentalize things!
“You debated so well the next day!” Josh had argued. I want to pound my fist onto the keyboard and scream, Because I had to! Because my mom works eighty hours a week cleaning your room! I HAD TO!
I’m so overwhelmed that I pull up Microsoft Word and click on New Document. I write in a trance, the words shooting out of me. It feels good to let it out, to purge and process the pain and humiliation of what happened. My room fills with the sound of a heavy rainstorm as I tap the keys, fingers giving life to the emotions I’ve been bottling up.
When I’m done, I stare at my essay. I move the cursor over to delete it. But it’s too good to delete. It feels wrong. I go back to Chrome and click open a new tab. Heart pounding, I type xomegan.com, an anonymous Reddit-like site for teenagers.
Do I dare?
Forty-Five
Claire
Jay takes me, Jess, Nancy, and Florence, and a bunch of his friends out for hot pot that weekend. He’s a gracious host, picking up pieces of radish and tofu for me and the girls with his chopsticks and setting them on our plates. He even personally mixes our hot-pot sauces for us, saying it’s his grandmother’s secret recipe.
Jess leans over and whispers in my ear, “He’s a keeper!”
I smile. Nancy and Florence stare enviously at us as Jay holds up a piece of shrimp for me and puts it in my mouth. I lick his fingers. Jay smiles. I know he’s craving more. But I want to do things differently this time, after what happened with Teddy. I want to take things slow and savor every moment.
Jay discreetly settles the bill before it even arrives at our table. As we’re leaving the restaurant, I notice Florence texting in the corner.
“Who are you always texting?” I ask her.
She blushes and puts her phone away. “No one,” she says. “Just a friend.”
“You ready?” Jay asks. I wave to my girlfriends and get into his car.
I sleep over that night, and in the morning, Jay wakes me up with a kiss. He’s holding his car keys in his hand.