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
We didn’t have sex. But we did take our clothes off and sleep together, falling asleep in each other’s arms and waking up together. I’m proud of myself for my self-control. And I’m proud of Jay too, the fact that a guy will listen to me. Sometimes I think the only reason Jay listens to me is because I say no to him. What else differentiates me from the other 129 girls? Why delete them and not me?
My lower lip trembles when I think about all the things we could have done . . . if I let myself say yes.
“Claire!” Ms. Jones calls out.
I look up at her, face flushing.
“I said you’re working with Emma on the group project.”
What?
I glance over at Emma, who celebrates our new partnership with a great big middle finger under the table. Wonderful.
Walking out of English class, I take the stairs to psychology. As I’m about to walk into the stairway, I see two girls holding each other in the stairway. It’s Florence and that girl Ming, the one Dani’s always hanging out with. And they’re making out.
I turn and back out of the stairway.
Oh my God, is Florence gay?
In the Uber on my way to Emma’s house, I replay all the conversations I’ve ever had with Florence. How could I have not known? I’m tempted to text Jess—does she know? Then decide, no, if Florence wants to keep this a secret from us, I have to respect that, as much it hurts that she’s kept such a fundamental part of her from us, her girls.
I gaze out the window as the driver turns on the windy roads. Emma refused to meet me anywhere else but her house, saying she didn’t trust me not to plant rice or some other stupid prank. The Uber driver asks me where I’m from.
“Shanghai,” I tell him.
“Shanghai, isn’t that where Jackie Chan’s from?” the guy asks, looking at me in the rearview mirror.
“I’m pretty sure he’s from Hong Kong,” I reply.
The driver shrugs. “Shanghai, Hong Kong, it’s all the same.”
I shake my head. Actually, it’s not.
“Tell me, why y’all like coming to America?”
I don’t answer him. I look out the window, hoping he’ll stop talking to me.
“You guys come here, buy up our houses . . . go to our schools,” he continues. He pauses for a second. “Don’t they have schools in China?”
I open my mouth, then close it. I put on my headphones instead.
“Pardon me,” he says, holding up a hand. “Didn’t mean to offend you.” He looks in the mirror at me. He puts his hands together and does a little bow. “Konichiwa! We appreciate the business.”