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
He throws his arms around me, a messy embrace of flowers and hair. I wait for him to catch his breath while my parents stare on.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I acted like an idiot.”
They were the words I’d been waiting for, staring and willing them to appear on my phone. I smile at Teddy and kiss him, a long, wet kiss that makes my dad look away.
“It’s okay,” I say.
Teddy takes the flowers and presents them to me along with the card. I smile as I take a whiff.
“I’ll be waiting on Skype every night,” he says.
“Me too,” I promise.
I stand on my tiptoes and hug him once more as he whispers, “I love you,” in my ear. My dad walks over, gives Teddy an eyeful, and reminds me that it’s time to go. Reluctantly, I let go of Teddy’s hand. I give my dad a hug, eyes still glued to Teddy. My mom tugs me lightly, and I follow her, waving at Teddy and my dad as we walk through security.
When I look back, they are both gone.
On the plane, the tears come. My mom sits across the aisle and is too engrossed in a TV show to notice.
I make myself wait to open Teddy’s card, slathering cucumber cooling gel on my eyelids to minimize the puffiness from my tears. I drink myself to oblivion, downing glass after glass of champagne. The flight attendant neither notices nor cares.
When I absolutely can’t stand it any longer, I rip open the card. Teddy has written the words “DON’T FORGET ME” in all caps. Underneath, he has drawn three guys in color pencil. Two are American, one with blond hair and one with red hair. He made the American guys look ugly, with orange skin and pimples all over their face. As if that’s not enough, they’re both x-ed out. The third guy is circled. It’s a self-portrait of Teddy, a smiling Chinese guy with the words “I’m belong to Claire” in English tattooed on his arm.
I laugh out loud at his grammatically incorrect tattoo and miss him so much I want to press the emergency exit lever and jump out. I start ugly crying all over again.
This time, my mom sits up. She unbuckles her seat belt, comes over, and puts her arm around my shoulders.
“It’s okay.” She shushes me.
“It’s not okay!” I sob. “You’re sending me to a foreign country to live with strangers!”
My mom digs through her Saint Laurent purse for tissues.
“You’re making a scene,” she says, ordering me to stop.