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 was hoping he’d ask me about it and make me feel better, but he’s more interested in something else.
“I’m sure you’re still hot. C’mon, switch to video and take off your shirt.”
I groan. “I gotta go. I have an early day at school,” I say. After we hang up, I look around my room. My eyes land on the towel hanging on my chair. I think about the calm and clarity I used to get after a long swim, and I grab the towel and head out.
It’s my first time at the school pool, and I find it behind the gym. Thankfully, it’s always open so the swim team can train, even when school’s not in session, and there’s an extra lane open for non–swim team students. As I change in the locker room, I can hear the team practicing, the sound of the water sloshing as bodies thrust through it. My toes curl, itching for that warm-jelly feel of the water. It’s been so long.
I plunge in, eyes wide open as the water grabs me and holds me. Like everything else in LA, the water is warm, much warmer than in Shanghai. I hold my breath, feeling the stillness in my lungs. I’ve always liked the first moment underwater. It reminds you that you still have control, even if it feels like your life is spinning out of control. All you have do is kick, and you’ll be back on top.
I swim to the other side. Back and forth and back and forth, I do laps alongside the swim team, until my legs ache and my arms burn, and even then I don’t stop. God, I’ve missed it. I swim for forty-five minutes straight with no breaks. By the time I’m done, the pool’s mostly empty. The swim team has finished their practice. I hold on to the edge of the pool, trying to catch my breath.
The boy from the cafeteria the other day spots me and walks over to the edge of the pool. He has a blue swim cap on.
“Hey.” He smiles. He puts a towel around his wet trunks and kneels down. Water pools around his feet. He has gentle blue eyes, the color of the water. And broad shoulders. Swimming shoulders. The kind of shoulders my mom and my grandma were so worried I’d have. They look good on him. “You’ve got great form.”
“Thanks,” I say.
I kick away from the edge and start swimming another lap. As I swim, I hear his voice calling out, “Don’t hold your hand out for too long. Slice your hand into the water and go through the water. It’s more efficient.” I try it and get to the other side in less time. When I look back, he’s gone.