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
“Oh,” she says. Her bed squeaks. I picture her sitting up. “Who is it?”
I press my lips together, anxious and excited to finally share my secret. “I met someone from the swim team, this guy Zach Cunningham,” I tell her.
“A white guy?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say.
She doesn’t say anything at first.
“Be careful, Claire. Don’t ruin what you have over some white guy you don’t even know,” she says. I know she’s been burned before, that that’s where this is coming from, but it still stings. “Jay cares for you. He adores you.”
“He adored me enough to go AWOL for three days,” I remind her.
“But he came back,” she says. “I see the way he looks at you. That’s real, Claire. If I were you, I wouldn’t throw that away.”
I think about Jess’s words as I drift to sleep.
She hands me the pill at school the next day, along with a heavy dose of guilt. “If this is going to happen again, you need to tell Jay. He deserves to know.” She’s right. I know she’s right. As I twist open my water bottle and pop the pill in my mouth, I wonder, Is it going to happen again?
I find the answer in the form of a red rose inside my locker.
Can’t stop thinking about you. Meet me after school.
—Zach
I smile.
“Where are we going?” I ask Zach. He holds out the passenger-side door of his Honda Civic for me. As I get in, I’m reminded of a Chinese saying my mother used to say when I was a kid.
I’d rather cry in a Mercedes than smile on a bike.
“You’ll see,” Zach says. He leans over and kisses me.
As Zach drives, I roll down the windows, something Jay never let me do in his Lambo. He didn’t want the fumes getting in from other cars. I prefer Zach’s Honda. For one thing, it’s quieter. You can actually have a conversation.
We talk about the SATs, which we’re both planning to take in October in time for college apps, and swim tryouts early next year. He tells me next year the team’s going to get a new coach.
Zach parks at Peter F. Schabarum Regional County Park and says we’re going hiking. I reach for my pollution mask. I don’t usually wear it, but it’s 3:30 p.m. and the midday sun is roasting.
“What are you doing?” Zach asks when we get out of the car. He points to the gray mask on my face.
“It’s just to protect against the sun,” I tell him.
Zach rummages through his backpack and fishes out a tube of sunscreen. He tosses it to me.
“Put this on, and you’ll be fine,” he says.