Frankly in Love (Frankly in Love, #1)(51)

“Hey, Internet, what are Asian people?”

Here’s what I found: The definition of Asian varies by country. In the US, Asian people are defined as originating from Southeast Asian countries like Cambodia, China, Japan, Korea, Malaysia, Thailand, Vietnam, et cetera. Until 1980, India and Pakistan were not considered Asian. Although technically in the Asian continent, countries like Armenia, Georgia, Chechnya, and Turkey are not considered Asian. The full article is 6,390 words. Would you like me to continue?


“Hey, Internet, what are Korean people?”

Here’s what I found: Koreans originate from North or South Korea, with 7.4 million expatriates living mostly in the United States, Vietnam, China, Japan, the Philippines, Russia, Uzbekistan, Australia, and Canada. Ancient Koreans were craniometrically more similar to Kazakhs and Mongols than Chinese or Japanese. Although most Koreans believe they share a single common ancestor, recent research suggests that belief to be a myth crafted by the widespread customary doctoring of genealogical records. The full article is 7,016 words. Would you like me to continue?





chapter 20


born stuck


9. Every generation has challenges it must face on its own terms. Therefore humanity is _______ to repeat its mistakes even as it slowly evolves forward.

A) blessed

B) wont

C) loathe

D) deigned

E) doomed

20. Evolution is less a ________ than it is a ________.

A) line—squiggle

B) contest—struggle

C) statement—question

D) march—scramble

E) decision—reaction


When I leave the testing room (née the chem lab) to meet up with the Apeys at the elephant tree, I see they all feel the same way as I do: all smiles.

“High fives?” I yell.

“High fives,” yells Q.

We all high-five in a great, slapping melee that devolves into mutual facepalms. Not surprising, for nerds like us.

“SATs can suck it,” I say.

“Fucking bitch-ass piece of cake, motherfucker,” says Q.

We all blink at his outburst of profanity.

Q caresses his elbows. “I mean, it was pretty easy this time.”

“Easy-peasy,” says a voice. It’s Brit, bounding into the group. She’s wearing a shirt that says BUT WHO WASHES THE WASHCLOTH?, another one of my favorites. I catch her in my arms. In the spirit of Openness, I kiss her in front of everyone.

“Get a room,” says Naima.

“Yeah, find lodging,” says Paul.

Brit dangles from my shoulder. She’s squeezing it. Sweet 1993 Keanu Reeves Buddha, Brit Means likes my shoulder muscles. “I’m still weirded out by that one about evolution,” she says. “Evolution is less a line than it is a squiggle.”

“I chose march and scramble,” says Q.

“I chose decision and reaction,” says Amelie.

“I think it was a trick question,” I say.

“What did you choose?” says Brit.

Brit blinks dramatically. She’s high on rocking the SAT. We all are high on rocking the SAT. We all feel we scored at least 1400, which is 95th percentile. We all feel like we more than made up for our mediocre first-round attempt.

“I chose contest and struggle,” I say. “Because a contest implies a level playing field. Evolution isn’t level. Creatures are stuck with whatever they’re born with. Some creatures are big and strong and fast. Others, though, are too small, or too slow, or mutated. There’s nothing they can do to overcome the bad hands they were dealt at birth. The herd leaves them behind. They’re the first to get eaten. Evolution is not some contest. It’s an arbitrary roulette wheel of murder.”

The Apeys stare at me, agape.

I clap my hands to clear away the heaviness I’ve just spewed forth. “So! How are you gonna celebrate the day, you guys? Paul, you go first, then go clockwise.”

Paul: “Play Pax Eterna!”

Q: “Pax Eterna, baby. See you there!” (High-five. Pax Eterna is this new online game where, eh, whatever.)

Amelie: “Maybe I’ll go to Boba Castle?”

Paul: “Sweet. We can all go in my car.”

Naima: “Can I come? I don’t know how to drive! Ha ha!”

Brit: “I’m gonna hang out with my baby.”

Me: “Where?”

“Anywhere, don’t care,” sings Brit.

“The SAT hit us bad for round one,” says Paul Olmo. “But we hit back for round two. Let’s knock it out with a unity clap.”

We all begin clapping, at first slow like fat rain that then accelerates into a pounding tropical typhoon.

“Isang bagsak!” says Paul Olmo, and we all strike a single clap of thunder in unison to end the storm.



* * *



? ? ?

So? I say. Test? Gut check?

Crushed it, I think, says Joy. I cheat death. You?

Flattened it. Feeling psyched. Today the test dies so that we may continue to live.

Let’s college! says Joy.

I laugh and put my phone away, because now here’s Brit approaching. She hops up onto the low wall I’m sitting on and rivets three little kisses along the length of my neck.

“What’s so funny?” says Brit.