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
“Actually, you can,” Claire says. “You’re the only one.” She tells me she finally went back and read my email.
“Now you know why the ad board was rigged.”
“And what about you? What did Mrs. Mandalay say?”
I shake my head. “Nothing meaningful,” I tell her. “But I do have an appointment at the police station tomorrow.”
She sits up. “The police station, really?”
I nod. “They saw my speech and they want to know what happened.”
“Are you scared?” she asks.
I want to say, Psh, I’m a debater. I live for moments of justice like this. But that would be ignoring and hiding the other half of who I am, a girl without a parachute. A student of color. A daughter of a single mom. Someone who needs her scholarship. And has no safety net whatsoever.
“A little,” I admit.
“It’s going to be okay,” Claire reassures me. “You’re going to do great, just like you did at Snider.”
I reach out a hand. “Why don’t you come with me?” I ask. “We can do it together.”
Claire looks away. I recognize the hesitation on her face, even though she’s different from me. She has a parachute. But what I’ve realized this year is even if you’re born with one, things can happen that can cut holes in yours.
“You think I should try? Is there enough evidence?” she asks.
I want to tell her of course she should try. This is America. Here, we believe in liberty and justice for all. At the same time, I want to be real with her. If she goes to trial, Jay will lawyer up and probably outspend her ten to one. And yet. I think back to the feeling in my veins at Snider when I got up there and spoke my truth, knowing my voice was my armor—it didn’t even matter what they decided.
“I think we should both try,” I say to Claire. “Even if we don’t win.”
Claire gives me a half smile. Slowly, she puts her hand over mine. As we lock hands, her phone rings. I look over and see Zach’s face flashing on her screen. Claire’s reluctant to take it.
“You can take it,” I tell her.
Claire shakes her head and silences the call. “No. I just want to talk to you right now. You’re important to me.” She looks in my eyes. “Always have been,” she adds shyly. As we lean over and give each other another hug, Claire apologizes once more. “I’m sorry for hurting you. If I had known Zach meant so much to you, I would have never started something with him without talking to you first.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m happy for you guys.”
My mom says that apologies are like coconuts, best served ripe. But dried and hardened, they can be pretty sweet too.