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Back Parachutes Save as PDF
Chapters (93)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-One
  24. Twenty-Two
  25. Twenty-Three
  26. Twenty-Four
  27. Twenty-Five
  28. Twenty-Six
  29. Twenty-Seven
  30. Twenty-Eight
  31. Twenty-Nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Thirty-One
  34. Thirty-Two
  35. Thirty-Three
  36. Thirty-Four
  37. Thirty-Five
  38. Thirty-Six
  39. Thirty-Seven
  40. Thirty-Eight
  41. Thirty-Nine
  42. Forty
  43. Forty-One
  44. Forty-Two
  45. Forty-Three
  46. Forty-Four
  47. Forty-Five
  48. Forty-Six
  49. Forty-Seven
  50. Forty-Eight
  51. Forty-Nine
  52. Fifty
  53. Fifty-One
  54. Fifty-Two
  55. Fifty-Three
  56. Fifty-Four
  57. Fifty-Five
  58. Fifty-Six
  59. Fifty-Seven
  60. Fifty-Eight
  61. Fifty-Nine
  62. Sixty
  63. Sixty-One
  64. Sixty-Two
  65. Sixty-Three
  66. Sixty-Four
  67. Sixty-Five
  68. Sixty-Six
  69. Sixty-Seven
  70. Sixty-Eight
  71. Sixty-Nine
  72. Seventy
  73. Seventy-One
  74. Seventy-Two
  75. Seventy-Three
  76. Seventy-Four
  77. Seventy-Five
  78. Seventy-Six
  79. Seventy-Seven
  80. Seventy-Eight
  81. Seventy-Nine
  82. Eighty
  83. Eighty-One
  84. Eighty-Two
  85. Eighty-Three
  86. Eighty-Four
  87. Eighty-Five
  88. Author’s Note
  89. Acknowledgments
  90. About the Author
  91. Books by Kelly Yang
  92. Back Ad
  93. About the Publisher

She thrusts her body against the mattress, trying to find a comfortable spot. I feel the chicken ramming up against the back of my throat.

“Mom, I think I’m going to be—”

Before I can say the words, it happens. I don’t have time to make it to the bathroom. I throw up, and it splatters on top of the blanket.

My mom jumps out of bed and screams.

“Tressy!” she yells, forgetting we’re not in Shanghai.

I cover my mouth—there’s more coming—and with my free hand, point to the trash can.

Instead of giving me the trash can, my mom starts waving her arms. “Don’t! Stop it! Not here!”

I jump out of bed and run to the trash can, where I puke up the rest of the chicken.

When I look up, my mom’s gone. She’s not in the room.

Dani and Mrs. De La Cruz come running in. I cringe with embarrassment, wishing my mom hadn’t woken them up, as I sit on the floor hugging the trash can.

“Don’t worry! We’ll help you!” Mrs. De La Cruz says. Dani quickly hands me a towel and leads me to the bathroom to wash up.

When I return, I see Mrs. De La Cruz bent over the floor, scrubbing up my mess while my mom pats awkwardly at the floor with flimsy squares of toilet paper, trying to help but making more of a mess. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen my mom clean. And it shows.

My mom’s phone rings.

“It’s your dad,” she says. She looks to Mrs. De La Cruz. “Do you mind if I take this?”

“Go,” Mrs. De La Cruz tells her. “We’ll take care of this.”

My mom puts an appreciative hand on Mrs. De La Cruz’s back as she leaves. Dani takes her spot and scrubs next to her mom silently. In the silvery moonlight, I can see her frowning. I can’t believe my mom would leave them to clean up my mess. Then again, of course she would. It’s what she’s been doing her whole life.

I bend down and join Dani and her mom. Mrs. De La Cruz squirts bleach on the floor, and the smell clogs my throat. Not at all how I imagined my first night in America.

Ten

Dani

You should have seen my mom—“yes, madam,” “no, madam.” And the Wangs, the way they sat there at dinner like it was a restaurant. They didn’t even offer to help clear the table or wash the dishes. And later, when Claire threw up, the way her mom just left us to clean up the mess, it docked on my forehead like raindrops how utterly spoiled they are.