by Liu, Cynthea
Table of Contents
Title Page
Acknowledgements
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
... Climbing to the top of the world...
“Are you ready?” Kallyn shouldered a small backpack and popped open her umbrella.
Cece looked up at the Wall. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
Kallyn and Cece steadily made the climb.
The steps became much steeper, and the path narrowed. Higher and higher they climbed, the gap between them and the rest of the students widening. Cece caught her breath and looked up, unable to see where the stairs ended.
“Just think how good you’ll feel when we make it to the top, Cece,” Kallyn said.
Just how good will it feel when I get to the top? Cece thought. By far, this was one of the hardest things she had ever done. If she could climb to the highest point of this section of the Great Wall, she could do anything. Tomorrow’s trip to the orphanage would seem like nothing.
“We’re almost there,” Kallyn said.
Cece looked up again. She could do this. She had to do this.
Finally, Cece was only steps from the last tower. She had just five steps left. Four. . . Her body filled with anticipation. Three . . . two . . .
She took the last step, and relief washed over her. Cece looked all around her. She felt like she was literally on top of the world.
Acknowledgments
I wish to acknowledge my rockstar agent Jen, my tireless and smarty editor
Karen, and my critique partner Tam, otherwise known as America’s Next Top
Model. A special thanks goes to my big brother William, my Xi’an connection
and resident expert. Oh, yeah. And he’s good looking, too.
SPEAK
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Published by Speak, an imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 2008
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For my daughter Clara. Live strong.
Application for the Students Across the Seven Seas
Study Abroad Program
Chapter One
Cece and Alison flipped through a pile of jeans at Macy’s. Cece was looking for a pair to replace her worn-out boot-cuts. She needed something new and fresh for her trip to China.
Alison held up a pair. “Size four, right?”
“Perfect,” Cece said, taking the jeans. It was the last item on her list, and the mall would be closed soon. “I’ll try these on and then we’ll be done.”
Cece headed for the fitting rooms with Alison trailing behind. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me tomorrow,” Al said. “How am I going to survive the summer without you?”
Cece walked into an open fitting room and closed the door while Al waited outside. “Beats me.” Cece hung up the jeans and her purse. “I guess you and Eugene Derkle will have to keep each other company.” She grinned, then tugged off her skirt and put on the jeans. She was thrilled to spend a summer without Eugene, her manager at Six Flags. He was the kind of guy you caught picking his nose. Like all the time.
“Don’t remind me,” Alison said. “His knee socks will be the end of me. Are you sure you have to go?”
Cece zipped up the jeans and observed herself in the mirror. Not bad. The slim cut made her look even taller. “Yes, I’m sure. The S.A.S.S. anthropology program is great. I’m really excited about it.” That, and there was no way she was going to suffer another tourist season in Texas, stuffed inside a hot toll booth. She turned and looked over her shoulder to check the rear view. The jeans made her butt look round, perky even. Excellent.
“What about your mother?” Alison’s voice filled with hope. “Is she having second thoughts? Maybe canceled your plane tickets?”
“Ha, you wish.” Cece turned and checked the front again. “But I do think she wants to plant a tracking device under my skin before I go. Do you know how many times she’s told me to be sure to e-mail? To not forget my calling card? Blah, blah, blah. . . ”
Lately, Mom’s smothering problem had gotten worse, as if that was even possible. It wasn’t like Cece was going to be gone forever. It was just one summer, halfway around the globe. No big deal.
“You know why she’s worried, right?” Al’s voice got low. “It’s not like she doesn’t know about your special plans.”
Cece opened the door.
Al was leaning against the wall. “Hey, those jeans look awesome.”
Cece pulled her in and shut the door. “Wait a second. How do you know she knows?”
Al frowned. “Please. Don’t all moms figure out stuff like that? She’s got to have some idea you’re not going to China just to traipse around ancient ruins and study fossils.”
“Artifacts,” Cece corrected as she tugged off her jeans. “Okay, so let’s say she does know. She’s not stopping me. Maybe she’s finally all right with me learning more about my birth parents.” She grabbed her skirt and put it on. “I mean, I’m about to turn seventeen. I’m practically an adult.”
Al stared at Cece. “This is your mom you’re talking about.”
Cece raised an eyebrow. “True.” So maybe that was wishful thinking. She straightened her skirt in the mirror. More than likely, her mother was putting up a good front instead. Perhaps the reason she hadn’t stopped her was because Cece had played the old “but how can you prevent me from furthering my education?” card. If there was one thing Mom couldn’t do, it was jeopardize her education. Plus, Dad was 100 percent behind the trip. When Cece had brought up the program to her parents, her father said he thought they should let Cece broaden her experience and get to know her birth country. Mom had no choice but to cave. “Well, if she does know,” Cece said, picking up the jeans from the floor, “I’ll just have to be extra careful then. You’ll help cover for me, right?”
“Sure,” Al replied. “I want you to find what you’re looking for just as much as
you do, but don’t make me lie too much. If your mom asks me point-blank, ‘Is Cece visiting the orphanage in Beijing?’ I don’t think I can pull it off. I like your mom. She’s sweet.”
Cece slung the jeans over her arm. “I know, I know.” She prayed her mother wouldn’t have the guts to ask Alison something like that. She grabbed her purse. “Any last words of wisdom?”
Alison got up. “As a matter of fact, there are. Do something fun while you’re there, okay?” She opened the door.
“I’ll try.” Cece said, following Alison out. “That’s the other reason I’m going. I haven’t forgotten.”
They headed for the registers.
“By fun, I don’t mean studying, Cece.”
“I know that.”
“Then there’s only one more thing.” The Great Call of China
Cece let out a breath. “What now?”
“Make sure you give yourself something extra special for your birthday. You know, because it’ll be the first time since forever that I won’t be there to celebrate.”
Cece paused. She hadn’t even thought about that. Her seventeenth birthday would fall just before the program ended. It wouldn’t be the same without her best friend. She sighed. “Something special, huh? Like what?”
“Oh. . . I don’t know. . . .” Al stopped by an accessory counter and browsed through one of the racks. “Since you’re sure to meet some guys over there, you should be totally open to all the possibilities.” She stopped to smile at Cece. “You should give yourself the gift of love.”
Cece rolled her eyes. “Which talk show did you get that from?”
“I didn’t get it from a show,” Al said. She spun the rack. “I read it in a book. It’s great advice. This summer is the perfect opportunity to break the man drought you’re in.”
“Man drought?” Cece said in surprise. “I’d hardly call it that. I attract plenty of men. Just not the right ones.” Last month, it had been some high school dropout from work. A couple of months before, a guy on her academic team who had a bad case of halitosis. And before that? One of her mother’s friend’s sons—his idea of a date was going to the library.
“All I’m saying is to keep an eye out,” Al said. “Someone there just might be worthy.” She pulled a pair of earrings off the rack.
“Look, Al, if the right guy comes along, you know I’m all over that.”
“You mean him, right?”
Cece laughed. “No comment.”
“Well, maybe you’ll want to get these.” Al passed a pair of red rose-shaped earrings to Cece. “If any earrings say romance, these are it.”
Cece held the jewelry up to her ear and looked at herself in the mirror. The earrings brought out the pink in her cheeks and lips. “Sold.”
After Cece made her purchases, she and Alison walked out of the store. Cece glanced at her watch and took in a huge breath. She had only twelve hours left before she’d be on a plane to China. “This is it. You parked on the other side of the mall, right?”
“Yeah,” Al said. “I guess it’s time to say good-bye.”
“Yup.”
“Time to leave your friend thousands and thousands of miles behind.”
“Yup.”
“Time to—”
“Al, stop. You can always e-mail me. It’ll be like I never left.”
“All right, chica.” Alison gave Cece a hug. “I’ll try not to The Great Call of China get too sad while I rot at Six Flags, with Eugene, in one hundred-degree weather. . . ”
“Oh, shut up!” Cece laughed as she broke apart from Al. “You’ll be fine. Now go.”
“Okay,” Alison said grudgingly. She started to walk away, then gave Cece one last wave. “Bye!”
Cece waved back. “Bye.”
She smiled before she turned for the exit. She’d really miss Alison.
When Cece got home, she went to her room to finish packing. She took her new jeans from the bag and put them on top of the rest of the clothes in her suitcase. Then she picked up some frames from her nightstand and slipped out the photos—one of her parents taken on their twentieth anniversary and one of Al and her on a roller coaster, arms up, screaming. That was when they’d thought working at an amusement park would be fun.
Someone knocked at the door.
“Yeah?” Cece said.
Cece’s mother, Sheryl, poked her head in. “I thought I heard you come home. I almost forgot to give you this.” She stepped in and dangled a shiny cell phone from her fingertips. “The cell phone company says it’ll work in China. But it’s two dollars a minute, so emergencies only?” She held out a bright yellow bag. “I got the travel charger, too.”
Cece took the bag from her mother. “But you already gave me a calling card.”
Her mother crossed her arms. “A calling card won’t do any good if you’re trapped in a pit somewhere, will it?”
Cece smiled. She had a point; you never know when you’re going to be trapped in a pit. She put the phone and the charger into her backpack. “Thanks. Anything else?”
“No, I think that’s it.” But her mother didn’t move from her spot. Instead, she looked at her daughter like she was doing a mental inventory of every inch of her face—right down to the tiny birthmark on her cheek.
“Um. . . Mom. . . you’re staring.”
“Sorry, honey. I just wonder what this summer will be like without you.”
Oh, man. Maybe her mother and Alison could form a support group together.
“Don’t forget what I said the other night, okay? Xi’an isn’t like our quiet little neighborhood. Don’t walk alone, watch for pickpockets, and keep that cell with you—”
“Mom, I’ll be fine,” Cece said, giving her a hug.
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Cece rested her chin on her mother’s shoulder, and she could practically feel her mom’s worry. Cece filled with guilt when she thought of her plans for visiting the orphanage, but she wouldn’t change her mind now. She had to know more about her birth parents; China was calling to her.
Her mother held her tighter.
Just then, her father walked in. “Sheryl, the girl is leav ing no matter how hard you hug her.”
Sheryl finally let Cece go. “I know, Ed.”
“C, I’ll be taking you to the airport,” her dad said. “Your mother has to work at the hospital in the morning.”
“I really wish I could go along,” Sheryl added.
“That’s okay,” Cece said. “I’ll say good-bye to you before I go.”
“Okay, honey.”
“Now try to get some sleep,” Ed said. “Let’s go, Sheryl.” He steered her toward the door. “Cece’s got a big day tomorrow.”
After her parents left, Cece closed her door and leaned against it for a moment. Then she went to her bed. There was one more thing she needed to pack. She lifted the dust ruffle and retrieved a sweater box that contained her old school papers. She dug to the bottom and pulled out another picture. This one was small, a little aged at the edges. It had been taken on the day Cece’s parents came to China to adopt her.
Cece looked at the two-year-old toddler in the photograph, standing between her new parents on a cobblestone walk. Her hair was stick straight and bowl cut, and she wore a light jacket with a mandarin collar, and cloth shoes. With one hand, she held her mother’s hand and in the other, an ice-cream pop that looked like a Dove bar. Behind them, Asian people crowded the streets.
It was hard for Cece to believe that innocent-looking child in a foreign land was the same jeans-wearing, pop-music-loving, American teen she was today. Only a couple of things remained the same; she still had the heart-shaped face and the beauty mark on her cheek. But gone was the chubbiness of her toddler arms and legs. In their place was a thin girl, with side-swept bangs and long, smooth hair, who wondered if she had her mother’s lanky stature or her father’s piercing brown eyes.
And there was one more thing that hadn’t change. She still loved ice-cream pops. Her father had jo
ked it took only an ice-cream treat to get Cece to leave the country quietly with two strangers. Cece grinned, then flipped the photo over to where she had copied the address of the orphanage. Only a few days before, she had met her dad for coffee at a diner near their house. Over the years, the diner had become their place for serious father-daughter talks, since it was hard to have any real privacy at home with Mom around. When Cece had walked in, she had mentally prepared for a lecture—on what, she wasn’t sure. But as she sat down, he reached into his shirt pocket and scooted a piece of paper across the table. “C, I’d rather you go to the right place than poke your nose in all the wrong ones,” he’d said.
Cece looked at the paper. He had written an address on it. “Dad—”
He put his hand up.
“Don’t say a word, Cece. I know Mom would never agree with what I’m doing, but I think you ought to see the orphanage where you spent your first two years.”
As Cece stared at the address, guilt washed over her. She didn’t want to admit she’d already raided the family safe weeks ago and had found the address on her adoption papers. She quickly tucked the note into her purse. She knew she’d have to keep this between the two of them. Since Cece could remember, her mother had never been comfortable with questions about Cece’s adoption and her birth parents. “Cece,” she would say, “can it just be okay to know that we’re your family?”
Cece believed her mother must have felt threatened by the possibility of Cece finding her biological parents. Maybe she didn’t want to share the bond they had with someone else. Or maybe she worried Cece might replace her altogether. Of course, that last one was ridiculous. Cece couldn’t imagine having anyone else as her mom, but she didn’t blame her for feeling insecure. She only wished her mother understood how much she loved her.
Cece’s father, on the other hand, had always been more sympathetic, and he actually had been able to convince her mother to open up once about the adoption. When Cece was twelve, they both sat down with her and stated plainly they didn’t know anything about her birth parents, but they’d tell her everything they knew. They described the orphanage, told her what her name used to be before her adoption—Bei Ma Hua—and they showed her some photos, including the one Cece now kept with her.
