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 squirm away from him and dive into the crowd, moving farther from Mr. Connelly when we enter the banquet hall. The main adjudicators are up on the stage tallying up the scores. I scramble to the front. As the main adjudicator steps up to the podium, the room falls quiet.
“Can I please have your attention everyone?” he asks, tapping on the mic. I look up at the judge, hope pounding in my ear. “Based on the individual and team scores, the following contestants may now advance to the finals. Rachel Gordon of Exeter. Joseph Siegel of Deerfield. Danielle De La Cruz of American Prep.”
Oh my God! I made it! I turn around and, out of habit, automatically scan the room for my coach. Mr. Connelly is in the back of the room, shaking the other coaches’ hands. The head organizer calls out seven more names and rushes us backstage. He tells us we have five minutes to prepare our speech, on the motion “This house will not consume the works of artists who have committed sexual crimes.”
The organizer announces our speeches will be broadcast on Facebook Live. Excitedly, my fellow contestants and I scribble our names on consent forms being passed around. Mr. Connelly rushes backstage.
“You know who I was talking to out there? The debate coach of the Yale team,” he says. He puts his hands on my arms and shakes me. “Yale, Dani! Yale!”
My breath catches in my throat.
“I told him all about you. He’s been watching you,” he says. “He likes what he sees.”
His eyebrows shoot way up, the way they do in practice when we surprise him with an impressive speech. I used to kill to make his eyebrows go up like that.
“If we play our cards right, you could be looking at a full ride to Yale next year, and I could be looking at a coaching gig with New Haven Promise, their local high school outreach program.” Mr. Connelly beams. “Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
We. It sneaks into my euphoria.
He peers at me, all serious. His big-coach-game face is back on. “You want to run through the points? What do you need?”
“I’m fine,” I say.
Mr. Connelly nods and leaves me to prep. “You’re gonna be amazing,” he says, giving me a thumbs-up as he walks out. “My bright, shining star!”
As he pushes open the backstage door, he turns. “Oh, and, Dani?”
“Yes?”
“I forgive you,” he says.
I close my eyes after he leaves, trying to center myself and find solace. I tell myself to forget Mr. Connelly and just focus on Yale. I have one shot to go out there and deliver a powerful speech.