by Lisa Yee
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Sunday
Day 7: CHAPTER 1
Day 7: CHAPTER 2
Day 7: CHAPTER 3
Day 7: CHAPTER 4
Day 7: CHAPTER 5
Monday
Day 6: CHAPTER 6
Day 6: CHAPTER 7
Day 6: CHAPTER 8
Day 6: CHAPTER 9
Day 6: CHAPTER 10
Day 6: CHAPTER 11
Day 6: CHAPTER 12
Day 6: CHAPTER 13
Day 6: CHAPTER 14
Tuesday
Day 5: CHAPTER 15
Day 5: CHAPTER 16
Day 5: CHAPTER 17
Day 5: CHAPTER 18
Day 5: CHAPTER 19
Day 5: CHAPTER 20
Day 5: CHAPTER 21
Day 5: CHAPTER 22
Wednesday
Day 4: CHAPTER 23
Day 4: CHAPTER 24
Day 4: CHAPTER 25
Day 4: CHAPTER 26
Day 4: CHAPTER 27
Day 4: CHAPTER 28
Day 4: CHAPTER 29
Day 4: CHAPTER 30
Thursday
Day 3: CHAPTER 31
Day 3: CHAPTER 32
Day 3: CHAPTER 33
Day 3: CHAPTER 34
Day 3: CHAPTER 35
Day 3: CHAPTER 36
Day 3: CHAPTER 37
Day 3: CHAPTER 38
Day 3: CHAPTER 39
Day 3: CHAPTER 40
Friday
Day 2: CHAPTER 41
Day 2: CHAPTER 42
Day 2: CHAPTER 43
Day 2: CHAPTER 44
Day 2: CHAPTER 45
Day 2: CHAPTER 46
Saturday
Day 1: CHAPTER 47
Day 1: CHAPTER 48
Day 1: CHAPTER 49
Day 1: CHAPTER 50
Day 1: CHAPTER 51
Day 1: CHAPTER 52
Day 1: CHAPTER 53
Day 1: CHAPTER 54
Day 1: CHAPTER 55
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
It was supposed to be the best week of my life, but then everything went terribly wrong. Actually, things had gone terribly wrong long before that, but no one had bothered to notice.
“I’m the king of the world!”
Kidding! Of course I was only kidding. That’s a line from Titanic, a cheesy movie that makes girls go all soft because Leonardo DiCaprio dies in the film. That’s right … Romance = Death.
I guess it’s good that Leonardo died, because when a girl is sobbing, you can put your arm around her and tell her that you know how she feels. Then she thinks you’re the sensitive type, when really, Leonardo drowning in freezing water isn’t what’s on your mind. The scene where Kate Winslet is naked is what you’re really thinking about.
“Say it again, Higgs,” Roo begged.
I stretched out my arms, leaned over the ship’s rail, and yelled, “I’m king of the world!”
As Roo squealed, Nick tapped me on the shoulder and asked in his best English accent, which sounded more Brooklyn than British, “Pardon me, but are you quite done?” He adjusted the collar of his Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club jacket — it was lime green, the color John Lennon wore. “I believe it’s my turn.”
Nick worshipped at the altar of John Lennon. He even had shaggy hair and wore round wire-rimmed glasses like his idol. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he looked more like a beefy, overgrown Harry Potter than an iconic musician from Liverpool.
Just then, I made the mistake of looking down into the bottomless ocean of blue-gray water. “Yeah, I’m done,” I said quickly as we walked past the long line of seniors who had the same original idea as we did. “Come on, Roo, let’s get out of here.”
Roo was my girlfriend. She had that whole blond hair, blue-eyed, sun-kissed SoCal tan thing going for her. Not that I was complaining. Roo was one of the most beautiful girls at school. Everybody loved Roo. You’d have to be insane not to.
Sophomore year, Roo and I had been bio lab partners, then friends. No one was more surprised than me when we got together. Not known for her brains, I gave Roo gravitas and she gave me glamour. We’d been together for two years.
“Two years, four months, and seven days,” she said as I tried not to vomit. I shouldn’t have looked down from the bow of the ship. “Oh, Higgs, can you believe that we are going to graduate in six days? It’s going to be the first day of the rest of our lives.”
Either the ship was rocking violently or I was. “Every day is the first day of the rest of our lives,” I told her as I wove my way to an empty table.
As Roo thought about this, I took a deep breath and stared at the centerpiece — a miniature life preserver with our school mascot, an astronaut, sitting in it.
Out of nowhere, Nick appeared and handed me a cold can of Coke. Good ol’ Nick. He was always there for me. Unfortunately, Samantha Verve was at his side. “Who are you supposed to be?” I asked.
She was wearing a floppy white hat over her curly brown hair, a short white dress, and white boots, which matched the color of her skin. How anyone could live in Southern California and be so pale was a paradox.
Samantha lowered her oversized sunglasses. “I’m Yoko Ono,” she said, as if it was something I should know.
“You broke up the Beatles,” I said flatly. I wasn’t sure if my nausea was getting worse because of the rocking ship or the proximity to Samantha Verve.
Samantha was Nick’s girlfriend. No, wait. She was his fiancée.
I’m serious. Fiancée.
Samantha proposed at prom, and Nick said yes.
And people thought I was crazy.
Roo leaned up against me. “This is nice, isn’t it?” she asked.
I nodded stiffly. Her perfume was making my situation worse. I felt like I was suffocating, and it wasn’t just that afternoon. I’d felt that way for two years, four months, and seven days. Still, so many people said Roo and I belonged together that I had talked myself into believing it. Actually, it was mostly Roo who said that, but everyone agreed with her. She had a way of getting people to do whatever she wanted, only making it seem like it was their idea.
When my brother, Jeffrey, was a senior, it was tradition to have a class picnic the Sunday before graduation. My senior year, the student council, led by Zander Findley, opted for a “Senior Sail,” which meant that we were trapped on a ship that circled the Marina del Rey harbor for four hours. Everyone was encouraged to wear something that symbolized their years at Sally Ride High School. The football team wore their helmets, which made it hard for them to eat the little sandwiches the refreshment committee put out, French club members donned berets, and there was a group of kids wearing top hats and monocles, though I wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. To be funny, Mr. Avis, the assistant principal, wore a prison guard uniform.
I wasn’t sure how to dress — a suit for debate, my track uniform, or maybe the black shirt, red tie, and porkpie hat we wore for jazz band? I was also president of the honor society and valedictorian — what would symbolize that? I seriously considered wearing a Harvard T-shirt since my entire high school career had been focused on getting accepted there.
However, in the end, Roo insisted we dress as king and queen of the prom, which we were. That’s how I ended up wearing a crown and sitting at a table with John Lennon and Yoko Ono as a ship sailed to nowhere while I tried not to throw up.
Are you really so sick that you can’t dance?” Roo asked again.
“I am going to vomit,” I said in a calm, measured voice. Four years on the debate team, three of them varsity, taught me that in times of crisis
it was best to just communicate the facts and leave emotion out of it.
“But you can still dance,” she said, pouting. “Higgs, they’re playing our song.”
The strains of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’ ” were broadcast over the tinny loudspeakers. As it went “on and on and on and on,” I looked up to see Samantha leading Nick to the dance floor.
“Higgs,” Roo persisted, “this is our last Senior Sail.”
“Roo, it’s our only Senior Sail.”
Just then Zander Findley materialized. We had been rivals since forever. One of the benefits of dating Roo was knowing that she was the girl of Zander’s dreams.
“If you need someone who will dance with you, I’m here,” he said.
Zander, who was prematurely mature, was in his usual garb — jeans, a turtleneck, and a brown corduroy jacket with patches at the elbows. His blow-dried hair had the hardened sheen of too much product, and he was one of the only kids at school with a serious mustache. He looked more like someone from his father’s generation than ours.
“I’d love to dance with you,” Roo said, glancing at me. “Higgs is being a party pooper.”
“Higgs, do you mind?” Zander asked smugly as he extended his hand to Roo. He didn’t wait for my answer.
As the boat rocked, I tried not to barf, which was difficult since my girlfriend and my enemy, neither great dancers, were boogying to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen.” Nearby, Nick and Samantha did the twist, as if they were listening to an entirely different song. At one point, Roo and Samantha began to waltz, while Nick continued to twist, leaving Zander dancing awkwardly by himself.
“Settle a bet,” Samantha said to me after the song ended. She had a dangerous smile on her face.
“I’m telling you, I won this,” Roo giggled.
“Higgs, if Roo needed a kidney, would you give her one of yours?”
It seemed like a straightforward question, but I should have guessed that coming from Samantha Verve, it was a trap.
“I’m not going to answer that,” I said. “Roo’s kidneys are fine and I’m not into hypotheticals.”
I couldn’t believe we were even having this conversation.
Samantha wouldn’t let go. “So that means no, then?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you didn’t say yes,” Samantha said, glancing triumphantly at Roo.
Roo cast her gaze toward the ocean. The sun was starting to set.
“Would you give Roo one of your kidneys if she needed one?” Samantha asked again.
“Why? Why are we even discussing this?” I cried, restraining my urge to throw up. “Christ, Samantha, drop it. What is your problem?”
“I would give you one of mine,” Roo said softly. Her eyes were moist.
“Roo, don’t let her do this to us,” I said. It wasn’t the first time Samantha tried to break us up.
Samantha turned to Nick. “If I needed a kidney, would you give me one of yours?”
Nick’s eyes met mine.
“Don’t look at him, look at me,” Samantha ordered. “Would you give me a kidney?”
“Well, sure,” he said, still staring at me. He mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t love me!” Roo cried.
“Roo …,” I started to say. “I …”
“If you loved me, you would give me a kidney,” she wailed.
“I’m not even going to discuss this anymore. It’s a hypothetical!” I said, glaring at Samantha. The conversation was making me even more nauseated than I already was.
“It’s over, then,” Roo said, sounding small.
“Well, thank god for that,” I answered. The topic was stupid. Samantha Verve was stupid. The conversation was stupid.
“Thank god?” Roo echoed. “Thank god that our relationship is over?”
“Wha …? No, I thought you were talking about the kidney thing —”
“It doesn’t matter. You’ve ruined my life!” Roo shouted as she raised her hands to the sky. She was in the drama club and they were all like that. “Higgs Boson Bing, you are heartless. I could have died without your kidney.”
“I’d give you both my kidneys and my heart,” Zander said.
I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“HIGGS!” Roo shrieked.
“Gotta go!” Zander said, quickly retreating.
It probably wasn’t a good time to throw up, but then is there ever a good time for that?
Nick was trying not to laugh, and even from behind her dark glasses, I could tell that Samantha was glaring at me. Roo stood frozen with her hands clenched and her face screwed up as if she had just seen her boyfriend barf on her.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I’ll pay for your dress.”
Even though I had made a mess, I felt so much better. Funny, isn’t it? You hold back, and you hold back, because you don’t want to cause a scene, but when you finally let go, it can be a relief. A mess, but a relief.
“Arrrggggg!!!!” Roo screamed. “I hate you, Higgs Boson Bing!”
As if things couldn’t get worse, Rosalee Gomez strolled over. Rosalee was always the first to try to cut me down. We were both in speech and debate, but have never been on the same team.
“Nice one, Bing,” Rosalee said. She adjusted her beret and then pointed to my mess on the floor. “Let me guess … nachos?”
“Right again, Rosalee,” I said. “Help yourself. You’re always up for a free meal.”
Gossip spreads fast in high school. I would say that it spreads like wildfire, but that wouldn’t be right. It spreads faster. There’s nothing more invigorating to the student body than a good rumor, especially if it’s about someone you know.
As a disgruntled ship employee was dispatched to get a mop, several guys who were actually drunk gave me the thumbs-up. “Higgs was so drunk he puked,” I heard people saying, not unkindly.
“What just happened?” I asked.
The crowd parted as Samantha and a gaggle of other girls escorted a sobbing Roo to the bathroom. “He doesn’t love me,” she could be heard telling startled onlookers. “I could have died.”
“Whose nightmare am I in?” I asked. “Why is this happening?”
Nick shook his head and answered, “You should have given her a kidney.”
The ship still had an hour and a half of circling the harbor before docking, which meant that I had an hour and a half of avoiding Roo. I considered jumping and swimming to shore, but with one week before graduation I figured it was best not to court trouble.
“Maybe you can just say you were wrong and beg for forgiveness,” Nick said. He cleaned his glasses on the sleeve of his jacket. “That always works for me.”
The strange thing was, I wasn’t sure if I wanted Roo back.
You’d think that after being in a relationship with someone for over two years, one ought to have felt some remorse. But oddly, I didn’t. And when I really thought about it, I wasn’t even sure why we were together to begin with. Oh sure, we had a lot of fun. And as I’ve noted before, Roo was gorgeous, but it was not without a price. I probably spent one entire year of our relationship waiting for her to get ready. Still, anyone would be proud to have Roo for a girlfriend, and I don’t deny that being with her raised my status immensely at school. But let’s face it, Roo was clingy.
The upside of dating Roo was that it gave Nick and me a good excuse to hang out together. Before Roo, it was always Nick and me, and Samantha. Although to hear her tell it, it was Nick and Samantha, and me. Samantha Verve and Roo were best friends and when we double-dated, the guys sat in the front of the car and the girls were in the back. Lots of times I just pretended they weren’t even there. I wished I could do that now, but instead I was trapped on the Senior Sail version of the Titanic, and we know how that ended.
Nick and I were hiding out in the far corner of the dance floor, watching some of the soccer guys play air guitar, when I spotted it.
“Holy shit,” I said.
Nic
k looked up. “Holy shit,” he said.
We both took a couple of steps backward and hit a wall.
A clump of angry girls was striding toward us. In the center was Roo. I swear, at that very moment the DJ started playing “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor and the girls moved as if in slow motion — angry slow motion — and headed straight toward us.
Samantha Verve, the only person Nick has ever truly feared, got to me first. “You’re scum! Look what you did,” she shouted, pointing. I looked at my ex-girlfriend, and when someone nudged her, she turned on the tears. Roo’s timing, or rather lack of it, during school plays was legendary. “You denied her a life-saving kidney, and then you threw up on her!”
“It’s your fault she’s crying,” I told Samantha. “You and your kidney hypothetical. If Roo is going to be upset at someone, it should be you. You set this up and you know it.”
“Oh! Oh, you … Oh! Oh! Oh!” Samantha replied, which is exactly the sort of nonstatement I’d come to expect from her. I could not understand how or why someone as smart as Nick could be in love with Samantha. She must have put a hex on him.
“Having trouble with those pesky nouns and verbs again, Samantha?” I asked.
Then, probably because she had always enjoyed being the star of her own drama, Roo gave the performance of her life. She sobbed louder than the lead singer shrieking in the chorus of “Eye of the Tiger,” which in itself was impressive.
“You poo!” Roo shouted, exiting stage left with her Greek chorus murmuring “he’s a poo” and “poor Roo” and “heartless” as they trailed their Antigone.
“Hey Higgs,” a football player called out, “score one for Team Roo!”
“Pity she dumped you,” someone else said.
I turned around to find Zander Findley smirking. “What do you want, Zander?”
“From you? Nothing. Oh, wait. You know a bunch of us are taking bets, you want in?”
My eyes narrowed. I’ve never trusted Zander. “Bets about what?” I asked.
“On how big an asshole you are. I say you’re number one.”
“No, that would be you, Zander.”
“I didn’t break poor Roo’s heart,” he said, flicking a piece of cracker off his sleeve.
“I didn’t break her heart,” I corrected him. “I just didn’t give her a kidney.”