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
“Wait!” I reach out and grab his arm. I jam my hand inside my purse and pull out the fish-oil capsules I had gotten for my grandmother and shove them into his hand. I didn’t forget. Because despite what my parents think, I actually am a good Chinese girl.
Thirty-Two
Dani
The juices of envy churn in my stomach as I watch Claire with her dad. His pride. Her happiness. Their linked arms as they walk out to dinner together.
I throw my head back onto the couch, thinking of Mr. Connelly and how we got here. He was the closest thing to a dad to me, and he knew that. Did he take advantage of it, or was I just so desperate to find a father figure in my life that I ignored all obvious warning signals?
I lie on the couch for hours, hugging my knees to my chest as my mind replays all our previous training sessions. Was the light too powerful all those times I stood up onstage in the auditorium? Could he see through my shirt? Should I not have hugged him or high-fived him after practice?
The bigger question, the one that pricks like a fish bone in my throat, is Now what? What does this mean for Snider . . . and for Yale?
I open up my laptop to check my email. There’s an email from Mr. Connelly. I sit up.
To: Danielle De La Cruz
From: Bill Connelly
Subject: Checking in
Hi Dani,
Just wanted to check in with you. You did SO great this weekend; I’m so proud of you! Don’t let anything else color your takeaway from this weekend, which is that YOU KICKED ASS. I believe in you so much! Call me if you ever want to talk. I’ll see you at practice on Monday!
Best,
Mr. Connelly
I stare at the email, at his encouraging words and jokey language. I read it over five times. Am I missing something here? It was like it was written for a whole different weekend! How could this be the email I receive after what happened?
The phone rings. It’s Ming.
“Hey, you wanna hang out?” Ming asks. “Florence is busy with her friends, and I’m tired of being second—”
“You won’t believe what happened to me!” I cut in.
My voice shakes as I tell Ming about Seattle and read her the email from Mr. Connelly. And even though it’s my best friend, it’s scary saying the words out loud, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I wait for her reaction.
“Okay, first of all, breathe,” Ming says. “I know you wanna hit Reply—”
“Oh, I’m going to hit Reply! And tell the creep to fuck off!”
“But, Dani, think about your future. Is there a softer way?” Ming urges. I shake my head, anger pumping through my veins.