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’m only going back if he’s kicked out of school.” I tell my parents I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what Ms. Jones said and I think I want to press it with the school.
There’s silence on the other end.
“What will that accomplish?” my dad asks. “Sure, it’ll feel good for five minutes. But what about afterward?”
I brace for a lecture on how uncomfortable it’s going to be to have to recount my story to all the various administrators of our school. But that’s not what he says.
“Everyone will know you’re damaged goods,” my dad warns.
My hands go cold as my mom quickly apologizes for him and says, “He didn’t mean that. We just don’t want you to get hurt!”
But it’s too late. I bite my mouth so hard, when I get off the phone, there’s blood on my lip.
Mrs. Mandalay makes small listening noises in her office the next day as I tell her what Jay did to me. Zach offered to come with me, but I wanted to do this by myself. I’ve now told the story five times to people, and each time, I can feel myself getting stronger.
“And that’s when you say he raped you?” Mrs. Mandalay asks.
“Yes,” I say, proud of myself for keeping it together. Surprisingly, during the most important meeting of them all, my eyes stay dry. Mrs. Mandalay asks me what I did afterward. She’s a lot more clinical than Ms. Jones, asking for times and details almost like a doctor would. I tell her I took a shower and went home.
“Did you go to the police?” Mrs. Mandalay inquires.
“No,” I say. “Not yet.”
A pause. “I see,” she says.
“Should I go to the police?” I ask.
She jots down some notes. “You can if you want,” she says, looking up at me. “Is that what you want, Claire? To have a long, drawn-out police investigation?”
I shake my head. Not when she puts it like that. She seems colder than when I was in here for the Mrs. Wallace email thing. Does she not believe me?
“If you go to the police, they’ll want to know a bunch of things. Why didn’t you get a rape test done? Why’d you wait so long to come in? Why did you stay in Jay’s house afterward and take a shower? Not to mention, what were you doing in his bedroom to begin with?”
I press my index finger and thumb to my forehead. They’re the exact whys I’ve been asking myself these last few days.
“I just don’t want to have to see him anymore,” I murmur. I look up and plead with Mrs. Mandalay. “Please, can you make him switch to another school?”