Front Desk (Front Desk #1) (Scholastic Gold)

by Kelly Yang

As I walked, I gave the butterflies in my stomach their usual pep talk—It’s going to be okay. I’ll make friends, and if I don’t, I’ll borrow books from the library.

“We’re immigrants,” she said. “Our lives are never fair.”

“It means a mistake isn’t always a mistake,” he said. “Sometimes a mistake is actually an opportunity, but we just can’t see it right then and there. Do you know what I mean?”

I used to think being successful meant having enough to eat, but now that I was getting free lunch at school, I wondered if I should set my standards higher.

“The thing about prejudice is you can’t tell people not to be prejudiced. You’ve got to show them. It’s like writing.”

I put my head down at my desk, wondering if I looked more like the other kids in my class—if I had blond hair and blue eyes—then would it be okay that I sucked at math?

“You know what you are in English? You’re a bicycle, and the other kids are cars.”

“Quit feeling so sorry for yourself,” my mom said to my dad. “I’ll decide when you’ve failed me. And you’re not even close.”

Sometimes, when I wanted something really bad, I’d ask myself what I would be willing to give up for it.

Free means innocent until proven guilty, not guilty no matter how innocent.

There’s a saying in Chinese that goes “Never forget how much rice you eat.” It’s a reminder to stay humble, to stay real. Just because you have an important job doesn’t mean you’re better than everybody else. You still eat rice, like the rest of us.

It was the most incredible feeling ever, knowing that something I wrote actually changed someone’s life.

and in China, girls are kind of like spare tires. It’s nice if you have one, but they’re not important