Chapters (77)
- Cover
- Dedication
- 1
- 2
- A Series of Screw-ups: The Chisaki Joan Katsuyama Story, Part I
- 3
- The History of My Beef with Brynn Foer-Preston
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part I
- 8
- 9
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part I
- 10
- 11
- 12
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part II
- 13
- The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part II
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- The Complicated History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Imaginary Relationship with Her Nonexistent Dad
- 20
- 21
- 22
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part III
- 23
- 24
- 25
- A Brief, Backward History of the McAllister Family, as Paraphrased from the San Jose Mercury News
- 26
- 27
- 28
- A Quick and Eerily Relevant History of Asians in America
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part IV
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- A Series of Screw-ups: The Chisaki Joan Katsuyama Story, Part II (Or Maybe It’s a Prequel)
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part III
- 54
- A Note from the Author
- Index of Flowers and their Meanings
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Praise for This Time Will Be Different
- Books by Misa Sugiura
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
Oh my god. It’s Shane. He’s let go of my hand and stepped forward and is now locked in a stare-down with this kid, a scrawny, weaselly looking dude who Shane could probably break in half with his bare hands. It’s like something out of a superhero movie.
It’s kind of thrilling.
But also a tiny bit . . . well, I had a comeback for once in my life, and I didn’t get to use it.
Ah, fuck it.
“If anyone’s triggered, it’s the dude who can’t handle credit going to someone besides a white person.”
Both Shane and the kid look at me in astonishment. Other kids are starting to notice us and take their phones out—hoping for a fight they can post somewhere, I’m sure. The kid sees this too and backs down pretty much immediately, probably because he doesn’t want the entire school to see a video of himself getting trounced. He rolls his eyes and looks at me and says in a voice spiky with resentful sarcasm, “Sorry.”
Shane turns to me and says, “That wasn’t a very sincere apology, CJ. Do you need a better one?”
It was a shitty apology, but there’s no point in drawing this out. Even if the kid apologizes again, he won’t really be sorry. “It’s fine,” I say. And to the kid, pointedly, “Goodbye.”
He vanishes, muttering to his friends.
“Holy shit,” says Shane. “What a fucking prick. CJ, you okay? Does that kind of thing happen to you often?”
“I’m fine,” I say. “And nothing like that has ever happened to me.” I mean, I hear bigoted comments all the time. Don’t we all? But I don’t make a habit of arguing with the random douchebags who make them.
“Well, you’re a fucking badass! I’m sorry I jumped in like that. I bet you could have kicked his ass.”
“Oh. Well,” I say, smiling modestly, and then I run out of things to say.
“Anyway, I get it now, for real,” Shane says. “I’m all in on STORM. Let me know if you need any help with anything, okay? I don’t have time for meetings and stuff, but like I can show up for fund-raisers or whatever. Anything.”
“Cool. Thanks.”