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and Dad are real. They’re enough. I don’t need more.” It’s what our adoptive parents wanted us to think, we knew that instinctively, but of course both Kim and I always wondered,
Is my mom pretty? Is my dad strong?
We dug that hole to China all the time. Mom never liked it when we did.
    “Let’s just go.” Jasmine hands me my coat from the closet.
    I slip it on, step into my boots and grab my backpack. We walk side by side without saying anything for a while. I won’t even try talking Jasmine out of seeing Cameron. Right now I have to agree that he is her last chance for real love. How sad is that?
    “So you’re going to visit your grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles.” I try to put a different spin on her trip away. “It must be great to know your whole family history like that.”
    We’re nearing the schoolyard, the last block.
    “You could try to trace your family, too, you know. I’ve heard your mom say anytime you want to go back to China, she would take you.”
    “Yeah, but …” I stop. Jazz’s whole face begins to emit a glow. Her mouth stretches into a smile that almost reaches her ears.
    From the blacktop, Cameron waves.
    “You wave, too, in case anyone’s watching,” she says under her breath. “We’re keeping us a secret till we’re more sure.”
    In case Cameron wants to go back to the witch.
I wave and grin just as broadly as Jasmine. A group of guys stand around Cameron. Are they bad-mouthing his ex, just the way the girls are Cameron?
    We head straight in to our lockers.
    At the other end of the hall, I notice a few of the second-string volleyball team—Gwyn, Emma and Zoe. They’re talking in low voices. Gwyn looks our way and gives us a hard stare.
    “Looks like your relationship’s not that big a secret,” I warn Jazz.
    She smiles sweetly. “Hi, Gwyn. Heard you played a great game last Friday.” M.M. Robinson won 34–28. Nothing unusual about that; they always win.
    “Thanks,” she sneers. How does Jazz know how Gwyn played? We weren’t at the game.
    The bell rings and I head to English class homeroom, which, my luck, I share with Emma, Gwyn and Vanessa. This is the day Mrs. Corbin decides to start our Shakespeare study for the year, and ironically the play she chooses is
Romeo and Juliet.
    She starts by showing us a list of famous quotations used in everyday life that come from the play. The line appears on the screen at the front with a page number, and she calls on various people to read out the passage the quote comes from.
    The lines are interesting, but some of the kids stumble over the passages and that gets boring. Emma nudges me inthe back and gives me a folded piece of paper. “Pass this to Vanessa,” she whispers. “Don’t look at it.”
    I turn around quickly. I don’t want to pass their silly note. Why can’t they just text each other like usual? But last class, Mrs. Corbin confiscated Emma’s phone. Guess she learned her lesson. And because I didn’t say no immediately, the paper now hangs between my thumb and forefinger. I listen as Gwyn reads the passage where Juliet asks about what is in a name and wince. Where was she back in grade four when we were taught about expressive reading?
    Emma pokes me in the back, hard. “Ow,” I call out.
    “What’s that note in your hand?” Mrs. Corbin asks.
    “I … I don’t know,” I answer, dropping it to the desk like it’s on fire. I sound like all those other stupid girls and hate myself for it.
    “Open it up and read it to the class, then,” Mrs. Corbin says.
    I scrunch up my mouth and unfold the paper, once, twice and three times, slowly, delaying to try to think of some way out of this. It’s too big a paper to chew and swallow. I curse Emma in the long moments, as nothing comes to me. I read the note to myself first.
    Vanessa,
    Can you believe it? Cameron’s going out with Banana. We saw him make goo-goo eyes at her this morning.
    Emma
    What! They think I’m going out with