New Year’s Day, I had a farewell breakfast with my parents. I always flew out January first because flights were cheaper, UChicago’s winter quarter started soon after, and I was usually itching to leave by this point. But this year, I wished I had a couple more days in Palo Alto.

“Make us proud,” my father said to me over raisin toast and honey-drizzled sriracha beef. Non-Frankenbreakfast had been too much to hope for on my last day.

“Um-hmm,” I mumbled with my mouth full, only because I hadn’t been able to swallow this bite yet.

“This is always the toughest part, you know,” he said. “Sending you back off to school. I wish you were closer to home.”

The guilt over my Stanford lie was worse than Frankentoast, which I forced down with a gulp of bitter tea.

“It’s tough for me, too,” I answered honestly.

AFTER NEW YEAR’S

Voicemail from Chloe’s mother

January 7

Eh? Wéi? Jing-Jing? You there? I guess not. I hope it’s recording. What’s Andrew’s parents’ names? I told the girls at Bible study today about his parents—oh, and don’t worry, I’ve been telling everyone behind Kuo Ǎyí’s back that you lied about the pregnancy because you knew you were too good for Hongbo but were so selfless you wanted to protect the Kuos, and it’s spreading. And of course I’m also telling them how much better Andrew is than Hongbo. Oh! And, my new Bible is the envy of everyone!

Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes. I told people about Andrew’s parents being top-notch surgeons at the University of Chicago, and Tsai An said she has a friend there, but it can’t be Andrew’s parents because her friend has two daughters. But they probably know each other! She’s going to ask her friend if she knows any surgeon couples there, but tell me their names to make it easier.

Oh, and of course, how is his grandmother? You sent them a good gift from us, right? Not pears? [laugh] Call me back tonight so I can stop worrying myself silly about the gift.

Chloe CHAPTER 56 REIMMERSION

January 1–8

In Chicago, I didn’t feel fully myself because a piece of me had been left behind with Drew. And, in a different way, with my father.

I tried to shift my focus. Now that Hongbo was gone, how simple would it be for me to reimmerse myself in my schoolwork—the way it was meant to be?

Answer: not simple at all.

I tried—really, I did—so freaking hard. I skipped like a carefree child to my classes, listened to every word my professors said, introduced myself to my new winter-quarter classmates, and made study plans and non-study plans.