“Good save!” Isobel bellowed. “GOOOO, FRED!!!!”
“Fred?” I asked.
“Yeah, your friend Fred? He’s on the team.”
“As like, the towel boy, duh.”
“What are you talking about?” She shot me an incredulous look. “He’s the goalie.”
I looked up at the field doubtfully. Freddie? The goalie who just executed that magnificent save? At halftime, the goalie took off his mask, and it was definitely Freddie underneath. He really was on the team. He was a Montclair jock all along, and actually deserved to wear that varsity jacket.
Freddie waved at us and Claude clapped him on the shoulder, handing him a Styrofoam cup of water.
“Claude said he’d been having problems with his knee so he’s been on the bench all season, managing the team,” Isobel told me.
Later, Freddie told me that the reason he was so secretive about his girlfriend was because his parents hadn’t wanted him to date before college, and he didn’t want me blabbing to my parents about his love life. But they had finally come around to accepting Tess, the beauty queen. Apparently no one was ever good enough for their son, but after he threatened to throw away the Harvard acceptance, they had caved. Freddie and Tess and Claude and Isobel were double-dating to the Soirée.
“You know, Tuna still doesn’t have a date,” Isobel said, meaning the hulky defensive guard on the team who had carried a case of beer to Claude’s party.
“I don’t want to go with Tuna,” I said.
I knew exactly who I wished I could ask to the Soirée. But it was too late. He didn’t want anything to do with me.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SENT: Thursday, December 17, 4:32 PM
SUBJECT: bonjour!
Hi Peaches,
So this week Isobel and I—wait, I’ve told you about her haven’t I? She’s this really funny French girl that I’m really good friends with. You’d like her, P., she dresses like you. Anyway, we went to all these boutiques and department stores and thrift stores to look for a dress for Isobel to wear to the Soirée, but she just borrowed one of mine. Remember how we used to always wear each other’s clothes? Anyway, I’m not going because Claude and I broke up and I really can’t be bothered to find another date. I’ll probably just stay home and watch Saturday Night Live.
Love,
V
20
Elle’s All That
ISOBEL WANTED ME to help her get ready for the dance, so on the night of Soirée, Dad dropped me off at her house. I helped her with her hair and curled her eyelashes the way she had taught me.
“Ouch!” she said.
“You must suffer to be beautiful!” I joked.
Isobel’s mom knocked on the door. “How’s everything in there, chérie? Claude est ici.”
I peeked out the door and saw Claude standing in Isobel’s living room, grinning at the Eminem poster and holding a corsage. Isobel walked down the stairs as if in slow motion. When he looked up to see her, his eyes shone with admiration. I made a point of playing “Kiss Me” on Isobel’s iMac speakers as she made her entrance. I gave her the momentous She’s All That moment I had been wanting forever. And she hadn’t even needed a makeover—she looked exactly like she always did. Claude pinned a bouquet on her dress and kissed her gently on the cheek. She blushed and handed him his boutonniere.
I followed her down the stairs.
“You look great,” I told her wistfully.
“V, you’re not going?” Claude asked.
“No, I don’t have a date,” I said honestly.
“Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal—it’s just a stupid dance.” He shrugged.
“I know,” I said.
Isobel’s parents took so many digital photos they almost blinded the happy couple.
“Are you sure you don’t want to meet us at the after party?” Isobel asked wistfully.
“No, really, I’ll be okay. Go. Have fun!”
They left in a cloud of her perfume.
I said good night to the Saint-Pierre’s and walked over to the curb where Dad was waiting for me.
“Hey,” I said. “I wasn’t too long, was I?”
I opened the door and realized that my whole family was in the van to pick me up. They were all staring at me when I climbed inside. I wondered what they were all doing there. We were just turning around and driving back to the suburbs anyway.
“What?”
They were silent. Then Dad said happily, “C’mon, we’re going out to the movies! My treat!”
The line at the movie theater was filled with tons of kids my age, sticking their tongues down their boyfriends’ throats or running around in large, boisterous groups, but I didn’t notice. I waited contentedly in the ticket line with my family. They would probably embarrass me again sometime in the near future, like, say, tomorrow, but for now, I was satisfied with their company.
When the line crept forward, I noticed the boy in front of us was wearing a ratty brown work shirt. I could recognize those shoulders anywhere. He walked up to the counter. “One for the Stephen King please.”
“Paul,” I said, touching his arm.
He turned. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“What are you doing here?”
“As usual, hanging out with my family,” I said. “What else do I do?”
Mom looked up at the list. “Do you want to go see the fish movie? It’s the only thing Brittany can see,” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Oh, hi, Paul,” she said. “I haven’t seen you in the cafeteria much—we miss you.”
“Thanks, Mrs. A. I cut back on my hours to study for the SATs. What are you guys up to tonight?”
“Well, we’re going to go see the fish movie. But I don’t know what V is doing.”
“You didn’t get me a ticket?” I asked.
“No, I thought maybe you want to see something with Paul?”
I was in shock. Mom was actually encouraging me to hang out alone with a boy?
“Up to you.” Paul shrugged.
“Sure. I mean, if you and Dad don’t mind,” I said.
“Mind? Why would we mind?” She elbowed Dad. Dad shrugged. “We know Paul. Do you drive?” she asked, turning to Paul.
Paul nodded. “I brought the Batmobile.”
“You know the way home. He can take you home after the movies. By eleven.”
I couldn’t believe it. Mom arranging my first date! And I wasn’t turning fifteen until next week! This was so disconcerting, except it wasn’t.
Paul went up to the ticket counter. “Can I get another please?”
I kissed Mom and Dad on the cheek, patted Brit on the head, and ran after him into the theater.
Mom had passed me a twenty-dollar bill, so we shared the most gigantic tub of the LARGEST size popcorn swimming in hot butter (or really, butter flavoring). And two medium Cokes. His hand brushed mine every time he grabbed a handful. I think it was on purpose.
“Hey, I almost forgot,” he said, between sips of Coke. “I got this for you. Have you read it yet?”
He pulled a hardcover copy of the latest Dark Tower novel out of his backpack. I’d told him I wanted to read it a while back. “Just let me finish reading it and it’s yours,” he’d told me.
“You’re not mad at me anymore?” I asked.
“Well, I was a little upset you forgot about our date. But I figured, who am I to tell you what to do.”
“It was a crazy month. I’m really sorry.”
“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”
“It is to me.” I looked him right in the eye. He has the nicest green eyes, a warm, yellow green that turned blue in certain light. He kind of looked like Tobey Mag—oh, forget about Tobey. He was cuter than Tobey. He was here, he was sitting next to me. He was a real boy, not one from posters on my bedroom walls.
Then he did the craziest thing. He just leaned over and kissed me.
Just like that. His lips were soft and buttery. I closed my eyes and I couldn’t even breathe.
“Okay,” he said, as the house lights dimmed and the trailers rolled.
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SENT: Sunday, December 20, 12:32 AM
SUBJECT: that in-the-rain-kiss
Dear Peaches,
You know when Mary Jane discovers it’s really Peter Parker she’s in love with? That’s how I feel. Seriously. I know I say this all the time, but this time it’s TRUE. Friday night I went to the movies with this boy, and it was the best night of my life. I’ll tell you all about it later, because I really need to go to sleep now. But I hope you get to meet him sometime.
Miss you.
Love,
V
WWW.WELOVECLAUDECALIGARI.COM
Sighted! C.C. at the Winter Soirée with his new girlfriend—a French import! Just the ticket since our guy and his date were voted roi et reine of the ball! Congratulations, Claude! Remember the little people! Check out new pics from the after party in Marin! Members, don’t forget, dues are due next month! Until the next C.C. sighting! Ciao!
FROM: [email protected]
TO: [email protected]
SENT: Wednesday, December 23, 9:18 PM
SUBJECT: we WON Lotto!!!
Hi, Peaches!
So, my dad finally won the lottery yesterday! $50! We celebrated by having dinner at P. F. Chang. It’s a chain restaurant with Asian food and it’s really good! Paul is the new guy I’m seeing. He’s a stock boy at Sears, where we have our restaurant—but it’s not really a restaurant—it’s more like a cafeteria. Actually, it’s the employees’ cafeteria at Sears. BTW, did you notice Teen Vogue did a top-10 story of the latest looks—and nude stockings are now the “it” hue of the season.
I know my e-mails are always so short, but I promise, in the future, I’ll write you long and detailed letters.
Love,
V
Acknowledgments
I AM DEEPLY INDEBTED to my awesome editor, Abby McAden, who steered this book in the right direction and took me out to many delicious meals. Thanks to Lexa Hillyer, Martha Schwartz, and everyone at HarperCollins. Thanks to Jennifer Unter for seeing the potential.
I am grateful to Jennifer Kim, Treena Rivera, Karen Robinovitz, and Caroline Suh for their enduring friendship. Thanks to Tyler Rollins, Tristan Ashby, and Gabriel de Guzman for support and encouragement. Thanks to Gabriel Sandoval, Liz Craft, and Justin Manask for making the L.A. transition an easy one. Thanks also to my high school English teachers at the Convent of the Sacred Heart: Dr. Eileen Moriarty, Mr. Joel Ohren, and Mr. Charles Brady, who encouraged me from the beginning.
Many kisses and hugs to the Johnstons—Mom, Dad, John, Anji, Alexander, Tim, Rob, Jenn, and Valerie; the Torre family; the Gaisano family; the Izumi family; the Green family, especially Steve and Nico; and all the very many Ongs and de la Cruzes in the world. And to the memory of my grandparents, Lola Eleng, Lolo William, Grandpa and Grandma.
Other Books by Melissa de la Cruz
Books by
MELISSA DE LA CRUZ
Fresh Off the Boat
The Au Pairs
The Au Pairs: Skinny Dipping
The Au Pairs: Sun-Kissed
Blue Bloods
Copyright
Fresh Off the Boat
Copyright © 2005 by Melissa de la Cruz
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © APRIL 2010 ISBN: 978-0-062-01551-8
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
De la Cruz, Melissa.
Fresh off the boat / by Melissa de la Cruz.—1st ed
p. cm.
Summary: When her family emigrates from the Philippines to San Francisco, California, fourteen-year-old Vicenza Arambullo struggles to fit in at her exclusive, all-girl private school.
ISBN-10: 0-06-054542-9 (pbk.)
ISBN-13: 978-0-06-054542-0 (pbk.)
1. Filipino Americans—Juvenile fiction. [1. Filipino Americans—Fiction. 2. Immigrants—Fiction. 3. Moving, Household—Fiction. 4. High schools—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.D36967Fr 2005
2004015513
[Fic]—dc22
CIP
AC
* * *
First Harper Trophy edition, 2006
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Fresh Off the Boat Page 16
