BooksBarbecue
Back Parachutes
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

My mom walks over and puts her tired, wrinkled hands on my shoulder. “I know, my anak,” she sighs, calling me by the Tagalog word for “child.” “But I don’t want you to be burdened with the same.”

I would never think of her as a burden. As she pours her tea, I curl up on the couch at the warm spot where the afternoon sun shines in, gazing at Claire’s lilies.

Twenty-One

Claire

The English test went better than I thought. As Dani predicted, it tested me mostly on literary and poetic devices. I won’t get the results back for another week, but I’m feeling good. I even told my mom about it. I smile as I reread her response on WeChat.

Wow! That’s great! I’m proud of you!

I put away my phone in Mr. Harvey’s class and look over at Jay. Neither of us have said anything about the fact that he paid for my waters in the cafeteria. I was going to thank him, but then I waited too long, and now it’d be too awkward to bring it up.

In class Jay is quiet. I notice he sometimes smiles when he’s texting on his phone, which makes me wonder if he’s texting his girlfriend. Jess swears he’s single, having done a huge amount of detective work on WeChat and Weibo.

She’s mostly gotten over my asking her to take down the pics, though she still brags that she increased my following by 430 percent in one night.

Every day I stare at my 520 followers. Maybe they’ll move on. I haven’t posted anything since. Or maybe they’ll stay and I can reap the rewards of “having a following,” which Jess says is just as important for one’s future in the US as getting into better English classes.

I haven’t told Teddy about any of the crazy Insta stuff. He wouldn’t understand. He only uses WeChat and limits his posts to personal friends.

I tell the girls when we’re out at dinner that Teddy and I started sexting.

“Claire!” Their eyebrows shoot up, impressed.

“Damn, girl,” Jess says, cutting into her beef. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

They ask me for details, and I tell them we’ve been doing it ever since the night at the club, 6:00 a.m. California time, 9:00 p.m. Shanghai time.

“I like the sweet texts I get from him afterward,” I say. Sometimes Teddy sends me a bunch throughout his night, which make me feel less lonely throughout my day.

“They’re so sweet afterward, aren’t they?” Jess adds. She takes one last bite of her beef and puts her fork and knife down. She gestures to the waitress she’s done.