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
We arrive at LAX. The driver picks us up in a Mercedes SUV. I sit in the back, gazing out the window at the palm trees and the many people walking around in flip-flops.
“Why does everyone here look like they just woke up?” my mom asks, frowning at the pedestrians’ sweatpants.
“Welcome to America! Where everyone walks around in gym clothes and nobody goes to the gym!” the driver says cheerfully.
My mom shakes her head at the people while I pull out my phone, tap on the Amazon app, and start shopping for flip-flops. When in Rome and all.
“Don’t even think about it,” my mom says, grabbing my phone. “I will not have my daughter dressed like a slob.”
“Hey!” I protest, reaching out a hand for my phone.
She gives it back and turns to the driver. “What else is different?”
“Oh, a lot of things. You gotta be careful, especially at night. People have guns here,” he says.
It takes us two and a half hours to get to East Covina, California, where my school and host family are. I thought the Shanghai traffic was bad, but it’s nothing compared to Los Angeles traffic. By the time we arrive, it’s already 6:00 p.m., too late to go to the school, so we head directly to the host family’s house.
I notice there are many signs in Chinese in East Covina. Shops, restaurants, even banks have signs written in Chinese. If it weren’t for the palm trees, I’d say we were still in Shanghai. Famished, I point to one of the restaurants, Sizzling Sichuan Garden, and ask if we could stop and eat there. My mom shakes her head.
“They’re expecting us,” she says. “I’m sure they’ll have prepared dinner.”
We arrive at the host family’s house ten minutes later. It’s much smaller than our villa in Shanghai. It barely has a yard and is sandwiched in between two much larger houses.
My mother turns to me and remarks, “Bad feng shui,” as the screen door screeches open and a Filipina lady steps outside. She’s petite and has a bubbly face, which reminds me of Tressy, and I instantly miss her.
“Are you the Wangs?” Mrs. De La Cruz asks. She beams and goes to shake the driver’s hand. “You must be Mr. Wang.”
“No, no, he’s my driver,” my mom cuts in, laughing at the thought. My mother studied drama and English in university, so her oral English is actually decent. “I’m Mrs. Wang. This is Claire.”
I smile politely.
“Claire, it’s so good to meet you! I’m Maria De La Cruz,” she says. “My daughter, Dani, is just your age.”