BooksBarbecue
Back Parachutes
Chapters (93)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-One
  24. Twenty-Two
  25. Twenty-Three
  26. Twenty-Four
  27. Twenty-Five
  28. Twenty-Six
  29. Twenty-Seven
  30. Twenty-Eight
  31. Twenty-Nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Thirty-One
  34. Thirty-Two
  35. Thirty-Three
  36. Thirty-Four
  37. Thirty-Five
  38. Thirty-Six
  39. Thirty-Seven
  40. Thirty-Eight
  41. Thirty-Nine
  42. Forty
  43. Forty-One
  44. Forty-Two
  45. Forty-Three
  46. Forty-Four
  47. Forty-Five
  48. Forty-Six
  49. Forty-Seven
  50. Forty-Eight
  51. Forty-Nine
  52. Fifty
  53. Fifty-One
  54. Fifty-Two
  55. Fifty-Three
  56. Fifty-Four
  57. Fifty-Five
  58. Fifty-Six
  59. Fifty-Seven
  60. Fifty-Eight
  61. Fifty-Nine
  62. Sixty
  63. Sixty-One
  64. Sixty-Two
  65. Sixty-Three
  66. Sixty-Four
  67. Sixty-Five
  68. Sixty-Six
  69. Sixty-Seven
  70. Sixty-Eight
  71. Sixty-Nine
  72. Seventy
  73. Seventy-One
  74. Seventy-Two
  75. Seventy-Three
  76. Seventy-Four
  77. Seventy-Five
  78. Seventy-Six
  79. Seventy-Seven
  80. Seventy-Eight
  81. Seventy-Nine
  82. Eighty
  83. Eighty-One
  84. Eighty-Two
  85. Eighty-Three
  86. Eighty-Four
  87. Eighty-Five
  88. Author’s Note
  89. Acknowledgments
  90. About the Author
  91. Books by Kelly Yang
  92. Back Ad
  93. About the Publisher

“Don’t play dumb with us. You ate the salad back there without paying for it. We have it all on camera,” the guy on the left with the red hair says, pointing to the CCTV cameras. He rewinds one of them and presses Play. There I am on the grainy screen, shoveling salad into my mouth in the pet food aisle like a starving weirdo. My ears turn red.

The redheaded security guard crosses his arms. “You think you can come in here and just consume our product without paying?” he asks, leaning into me. He’s a big guy. Sweat trickles down my back.

“Answer me!” he screams into my face, and all of a sudden, being seen by Mr. Connelly is no longer my greatest problem.

My eyes jolt from the screen to the guards. “I’m really sorry. I just took a few bites. I was going to pay for it—”

Red snorts at his colleague, a mop-haired guy with a mustache.

“That’s what they all say,” he says, pointing to the wall next to him. There, on the wall, was a four-by-five grid of faces. Mug shots. Embarrassed-looking people, holding signs that read, “I stole from this store.”

“We have another one up at the front of the store,” Mop Head informs me proudly. “That’s where your face is going to go unless you pay up.”

Hands shaking, I get my wallet. I pull $10 out and give it to them. That should cover the salad.

The security guards shake their heads. “Oh no,” they say.

A smile sneaks out the corner of Red’s mouth; clearly he’s enjoying this. “The penalty for theft is ten times the price.”

Ten times? The pistachios inside me turn into stones.

Red turns to his colleague, who fishes out my salad from a plastic bag sitting on his desk. I clench my teeth as I wait for him to weigh it. It comes out to one and a half pounds, which puts it well over $13. Goddamn it. I knew I shouldn’t have added the avocados!

“That’ll be thirteen forty-eight times ten.” Red punches it into his calculator. I didn’t need a calculator. My mind was already in full-on alarm mode. “That’s $134.80.”

“What?” I exclaim. “I don’t have that kind of money!”

Red shakes his head at me and looks down at my bronze arms. “You guys always do this. You come over the border from Mexico—”

“I’m Filipino, not Mexican,” I correct.

Red rolls his eyes. “Same thing,” he says. Mop Head grunts in agreement. My skin boils.

“What’s it going to be? Pay up or the wall?” he asks.

My eyes slide over to the wall. I think about my debate teammates and my teachers, Mr. Connelly, Mrs. Mandalay, walking into the store, looking at the sign, and cringe.