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
After Claire and her mom leave for dinner, my mom turns to me, sheepishly, and asks if I too want to go out. But I don’t want to schlep to KFC or McDonald’s, I want a real dinner. I used to dream about the day I would get my acceptance to Yale, how my mom would saunter into Budget Maids and announce to Rosa that her daughter’s going to an Ivy League school, and we’d go out to a nice, white-tablecloth dinner afterward. The look of pride on my mom’s face, it’d fill me up on nights when I went to bed half-hungry.
I shake my head and turn back to my laptop. I’m at the kitchen table researching LA private schools. Maybe there’s one I can transfer to midyear, one that’ll offer me a scholarship. My mom pulls green beans, onions, bell peppers, and coconut milk out of the fridge and starts making ginataan, my favorite. The warm coconut smell fills the kitchen. My mom pulls out a brochure from her purse, glancing at it as she stirs.
“What’s that?” I ask.
She holds the brochure up, and it reads, “ADULT SCHOOL.”
I close my laptop and sit up. “You’re thinking of going back to school?” I ask.
My mom shakes her head. She tastes the coconut and adds salt. “No time,” she says. “Too busy cleaning and trying to make enough money.”
“I can pull some more shifts. Mom, I think you should do it,” I encourage her. “It’ll be great.”
She leaves the stew to simmer, walks over, and massages my shoulders. “I don’t want you pulling more shifts, my anak,” she says. “You already pull enough.” She works a tight knot in my neck. “How’s school?”
My shoulders tense, and I squirm out of her hands. I don’t want her to know I didn’t get headmistress commendation this year.
“It’s fine,” I say, gathering up my papers and computer in my arms.
My mom looks at me. “Are you okay?”
I nod, averting her probing eyes.
She walks back to her stew and stirs. “I know you think of yourself as my greatest hope, and you are,” she says. “But I don’t want you to put so much pressure on yourself.”
Too late for that. That night, I tiptoe into my mom’s room and put the money I made from cleaning houses that week on her desk. I was going to give it to Claire, to finish what I owe, but she can wait another week. I hope my mom will enroll in adult school. I still think she’s right, that I’m our greatest hope. But in case I’m not, I hope she invests in herself.
At school the next day, Ming walks me to my locker after band. She consoles me on not making headmistress commendation.