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
“I’ll pay,” I say. I peel my wallet open once again. I only have $20. Unlike Claire, I don’t have an Amex or any other credit cards. I take my phone out of my bag. First I call Ming, but she doesn’t pick up. She’s probably still at violin practice with Mr. Rufus. I try Zach next.
The phone rings and rings.
Pick up, pick up.
Zach doesn’t pick up either. I try my mom, regretting the words I’m going to have to say. So, Mom . . . I’m at the store. I need you to bail me out for shoplifting a salad.
When she doesn’t pick up either, I really start panicking. The last thing I need right now is a shoplifting record. How’s that going to look on my college apps? I try the house, but no one’s home.
“Her battery probably died,” I explain to the security guards. They yawn. Red reaches over on the desk for his camera, getting ready to take my pic, while Mop Head grabs the sign.
“Wait, wait, wait!” I beg. Frantically, I tap on my phone. “Let me try one more person.”
Claire answers on the third ring.
“Wei?” she asks in Chinese.
“Um, Claire? It’s me Dani,” I say. “I need your help. I’m in some trouble and I . . .”
I feel my throat closing in. I don’t know how to get the words out.
“Where are you?” Claire asks.
I tell her the name and address of the store.
“I’ll be right there,” she says.
Claire arrives at the store ten minutes later. She strolls into the back office in her block heels and looks at me—I want to crawl into the fetal position.
“How much?” she asks the security guards, pulling out her wallet.
She doesn’t ask what happened. Doesn’t ask why.
“Your friend here owes $134.80,” Red tells her.
Without a word, Claire pulls a hundred-dollar bill and a fifty from her wallet and hands them to the security guards. She doesn’t wait for change, she just grabs me and pulls me out of there.
When we’re out of the store, I turn to her and say, “It’s not what you think. I’m not a shoplifter.”
“Of course not. I never thought that.”
“I was going to pay for it—I swear! But then I saw someone in the store and I—”
“Listen,” Claire says, holding up a hand, stopping me. “You don’t have to explain it to me.” She taps on her phone for an Uber, then looks up at me. “I’ve listened to enough of your speeches to know that.” She smiles.
My eyes open wide. “You have?”
Claire nods. “Oh yeah, all the time. It’s the best part of living at your house.”