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 shut off the message and, for the next two minutes, sit there with my face melting off my skull. My mom is silent. She knows about me and Teddy, but she still thinks of high school dating as a “I’ll walk you to class, you walk me to class” type of thing.
“Have you and Teddy . . .” She fumbles to get the words out.
“No!” I exclaim. “Of course not.”
My mom’s eyes scan me like a human lie detector. I remind myself I have nothing to hide. We haven’t done anything more than make out. Though lately, he’s been asking me for pics. He swears he won’t show them to anyone else. I haven’t indulged him, but I haven’t flat out said no either.
“Promise me you’ll save yourself for someone special,” my mom says. “A Fortune 500 CEO perhaps. Or second-generation scion. Someone better.”
Better than me or better than Teddy?
“Teddy’s a nice guy,” I say.
“A nice guy?” She laughs, waving her champagne flute in the air. “You think that’s what’s going to pay for all this? A nice guy?”
“No, I’m going to pay for all this,” I snap. “I have a brain, remember.”
She considers her words carefully. “So use it to get into a good school. Trust me, it’ll be a lot harder to meet a good husband once you’re out of school. I was lucky to have met your father when I did.”
I raise my eyebrow at her.
“I’m just trying to watch out for you,” she says, her voice softening. She reaches out a hand, and my anger thaws.
I look over at my mom, sitting there, so lonely, sneaking glances at her phone, pretending to be smoothing out her napkin when we both know she’s checking to see if he’s called. He hasn’t.
Gently, my mother lifts her champagne flute and sets it down in front of me, a peace offering. I take a sip.
The next day, my mother drags me to lunch at my nai nai’s house. Nai Nai is my grandmother on my dad’s side, a fierce widow with a head of white curls and a mouth that makes my mom want to crawl into a Qing vase before Nai Nai even opens it. I kiss Nai Nai on both cheeks as she sits at her throne in the dining room. She’s holding court—my aunts, uncles, and cousins all gathered around her. They make no attempt to scoot over when my mom walks into the dining room, so she’s forced to take the last remaining seat, at the end of the table. My father, if he were here, would sit at the head of the table and my mother next to him. But per usual, he’s not here.
“Nai Nai,” I greet her.