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Back This Time Will Be Different Save as PDF
Chapters (77)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. A Series of Screw-ups: The Chisaki Joan Katsuyama Story, Part I
  6. 3
  7. The History of My Beef with Brynn Foer-Preston
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part I
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part I
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part II
  20. 13
  21. The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part II
  22. 14
  23. 15
  24. 16
  25. 17
  26. 18
  27. 19
  28. The Complicated History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Imaginary Relationship with Her Nonexistent Dad
  29. 20
  30. 21
  31. 22
  32. A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part III
  33. 23
  34. 24
  35. 25
  36. A Brief, Backward History of the McAllister Family, as Paraphrased from the San Jose Mercury News
  37. 26
  38. 27
  39. 28
  40. A Quick and Eerily Relevant History of Asians in America
  41. 29
  42. 30
  43. 31
  44. 32
  45. 33
  46. 34
  47. 35
  48. 36
  49. A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part IV
  50. 37
  51. 38
  52. 39
  53. 40
  54. 41
  55. 42
  56. 43
  57. 44
  58. A Series of Screw-ups: The Chisaki Joan Katsuyama Story, Part II (Or Maybe It’s a Prequel)
  59. 45
  60. 46
  61. 47
  62. 48
  63. 49
  64. 50
  65. 51
  66. 52
  67. 53
  68. The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part III
  69. 54
  70. A Note from the Author
  71. Index of Flowers and their Meanings
  72. Acknowledgments
  73. About the Author
  74. Praise for This Time Will Be Different
  75. Books by Misa Sugiura
  76. Back Ad
  77. About the Publisher

He leans toward me and rests his forehead against mine. He murmurs, “You’re so pretty. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for like, weeks. I really want to kiss you right now.”

Well. A little shiver of excitement skims up my spine. And suddenly I’m curious. If you know, as Shane must, that no matter who you want to kiss, no matter when you want to kiss them, they will absolutely want to kiss you back, how do you choose who to kiss?

“Why me?” I ask.

“’Cause you’re pretty,” he says again, and the corner of that gorgeous mouth quirks up, and I so, so, so want to kiss it, I mean I’ve been waiting for weeks, too, but something inside me suddenly, perversely wants more. Owen said that pretty was all that Shane cared about, and I am going to prove him wrong.

“Why else?” I lean into him.

“Um . . . ’cause you’re sexy?”

“Oh. Okay.”

He mistakes my disappointment for insecurity and puts his lips to my ear. “I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t think you were totally hot,” he whispers, and part of me is still going, Yes! but part of me is going, Oh no, and maybe he doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but still. Dammit.

“I guess I meant besides my looks,” I say, pulling away just a tiny bit.

Shane looks taken aback, but he plays along. “You’re . . .” He concentrates for a moment. “You’re a really good listener. You’re like, super chill. And . . . oh, I know!” He brightens. “You’re like, this badass social activist and . . . hang on.” Shane holds up his finger, blinks a couple of times, and says again, “Hang on. I just gotta . . .” He closes his eyes and breathes in and out a couple of times and stands up. “Whoa, shit.” He sways and grips the edge of the alcove. “I think I might be sick. Hang on a sec, okay? I’m just gonna go puke.”

He stumbles back through the room, toward the front hall, distracting a couple of Sad Drunk Girl’s friends as he passes them. Shit. “Where’s the bathroom?” I ask them as I run after Shane, but they just shrug. Private Dreamy Evening with Hot Shane in the Gazebo has officially devolved into Public Drunken Evening with Vomity Shane in the Reading Nook. It’s like a fucked-up version of Clue.

Shane is fumbling with the latch on the door, and I figure the front steps are a better place to puke than the front hall, so I step in and help him. He lurches through the doorway, nearly falling as he forgets about the steps. He reels off to the left, bends over double, and empties the contents of his stomach onto the roots of a hydrangea bush. I hope he doesn’t kill it.