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
“So why’d you think she said that?” my mom asks. “Why do you think she gave out the exam questions in advance?”
I look away. Yeah, well, that may be the game, but I don’t like the rules. The door opens and my Chinese teacher, Zhou Lao Shi, walks out. She issues my mom a tight smile and gestures for us to come in.
“Mrs. Wang, Claire,” Zhou Lao Shi says, running a hand through her thick streak of white roots, which run skunk-like through her dyed-black hair.
My mom takes a seat and thanks her for seeing us. Gently she pulls out my exam. “I want to talk to you about Claire’s grade.”
I glance over at Zhou Lao Shi, but she sits there, expressionless, as she does throughout most of class.
“I know what she wrote wasn’t perfect, but a forty-two?”
Zhou Lao Shi barely blinks. My mother’s words have no effect. I nudge my mom with my elbow—Maybe we should go. This is a woman who’s used to being bribed, questioned, tipped, and threatened by parents all day long. It’s going to take at least five thousand renminbi just to get her to move an eyebrow.
“Claire received a forty-two out of one hundred. That is her grade,” Zhou Lao Shi says.
My mom sets down her Birkin. She always dresses up when she comes to school; she says it’s so the teacher treats us better. I think it’s so she can impress the other moms. She crosses her wide-leg Balmain pants and tries again. “Perhaps because you’re comparing it to the other students. But are you aware that some of the other kids plagiarized for this exam—”
“Mom!” I exclaim. Has she lost her mind? I get that she wants me to get a higher score, but to squeal on my classmates for cheating?
“I’ll have to investigate that,” Zhou Lao Shi says tersely, and gets up. “I’m afraid our time is up.”
We’ve offended her. My mother knows it too. She ditches her tough-lady approach and throws herself at my Chinese teacher’s feet. “Please, it’s my fault. I didn’t get Claire the right tutor. Punish me, not her.”
Her wet, desperate eyes look into Zhou Lao Shi’s stern, ruthless ones.
“I’m sure there will be another opportunity coming up soon,” Zhou Lao Shi says. “Hopefully, you will see to it next time that Claire’s prepared.”
In the car on the way home, my mom curses Zhou Lao Shi. “What kind of turtle-egg Chinese teacher is that? She didn’t even care that her students are copying their tutors!”
Yeah, well, neither did my mom until twenty minutes ago. Still, I appreciate her standing up for me. I rest my head against the massaging neck pillows my mom got for our Audi as Patrick, our driver, glances in the rearview mirror.