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
“Zach, where the hell are my cigs?” she slurs. I can smell the stench of alcohol on her.
“Go back inside, Ma,” Zach tells her. “I’ll be right there.”
I stare at the woman. That’s his mom?
As Mrs. Cunningham lumbers back inside, Zach turns to me. His eyes look up from the sandy dirt.
“Hey,” he says. His voice is low and laced with hurt. “Dani told me about Jay.”
I close my eyes. My head throbs. That bitch just doesn’t stop! The roots of my hair feel like they’re being pulled out from inside my head.
Zach glances at the trailer, at his mother, sitting by the window watching us. She’s found her cigarettes, and she’s making little smoke rings with her mouth as she studies us.
“You lied to me,” Zach says. “You told me I was your first.”
“You are my first! You have to believe me,” I say. Desperately, I search his eyes. “We weren’t doing anything! We were just sleeping next to each other!”
“Yeah well, in this country, you sleep with one guy at a time,” he mutters with disgust.
“I’m so sorry, Zach,” I say, chin quivering. Before I realize it, I’m full-on crying. The tears gush down my face. I don’t know how to stop. I cry so hard, Zach puts a hand on my back, concerned.
“Whoa, whoa. What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, and he pulls me in toward him. It comes out in bits and chunks, half in Chinese and half in English. In my hysterical state, I cannot string together more than three words in either language without sobbing. When Zach hears the word “rape,” his body goes cold.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” Zach says.
He pulls me toward a bench by the side of the trailer. We sit down. One by one, I push out the words, drawing strength from the shock and horror and anger pooling inside me. Zach breathes in and out as I tell him the details. Through the blur of my tears, I can see the rage on his face.
“We have to go to the police!” He jumps up.
“No,” I say, pulling him back down. The last thing I want is to have to sit in a cold, dreary room with some creepy cop as they ask me to show them exactly where Jay touched me.
“We have to,” Zach insists. “We can’t let him get away with this.”
I look up cautiously at him.
“Have you told your parents?” he asks. “What about the school? Have you told the school about this?”
I shake my head. I haven’t told anyone. I’ve just been bathing in a pool of my own shame.
Zach grabs my hand. “We have to go tell the school,” he says.