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
For as long as I can remember, my mom’s been trying to get me to eat less carbs, saying my butt is too big, my arms are too big—something’s always too big. Even Jay teases me about my calves sometimes. I raise my hand and change my order to a turkey burger. I tell the waitress to hold the fries.
Zach smiles. “That’s more like it.”
We sit in silence, pruned fingers clutching our ice waters, waiting for our food to arrive.
“So how long have you been swimming?” he asks me.
I shrug. The waitress arrives with our food. I stare at Zach’s fries, curly and golden crisp. Zach laughs, takes a bunch and puts them on my plate.
“How old were you when you started?” Zach tries again.
“Three,” I say as I reach for a fry.
“And why’d you stop?” he asks in between bites of his burger.
I debate whether to tell him. “My mom made me quit because she said I would get big shoulders if I kept swimming. And that’s not a good look on a girl. . . .”
He puts down his burger. “Wow,” he says, so loudly the couple from the next table looks over. Zach shakes his head. “First of all, you look amazing. Second of all, who cares about broad shoulders? Just the feeling of being in the water, doing what you love . . . that’s the most beautiful thing ever.”
I look at him with glowing eyes. No one’s ever said that to me before.
“That’s sexy,” he adds.
I blush. A cozy quiet falls over us.
“I’m glad you’re swimming again,” Zach says as he reaches across the table and touches my hand.
Fifty-Eight
Dani
I pore over the annual-fund donation pamphlet in the school library. It’s a list of donations made to the school last year, embarrassingly organized by student, amount, and parent. I look up my name and cringe at the big fat zero next to it. As if that’s not bad enough, there’s an asterisk next to my name announcing to everyone I’m a full-scholarship student, in case there was any doubt from my ripped socks.
I flip to Heather McLean and see that her family gave $50,000 to the school last year. No wonder she made headmistress commendation.
Ming and Florence walk into the library holding hands. It’s good to see the two of them no longer hiding their relationship. Florence kisses Ming on the cheek and waves goodbye to her as Ming walks over to me.
“How are you doing?” Ming asks me, sliding into the seat next to mine.
“I’m okay,” I say. I lean toward her. “How are you?”
“So great.” She beams. “It’s amazing not to have to sneak around. I’m even thinking of telling my parents when I pick them up from the airport Saturday night.”
“Really?”
Ming nods.