You have never seen anyone more beautiful than Chad.

His eyes are squinty green, the deep end of a lake, his dark hair spiked.

She wears dark-blue eye shadow; her hair is in a white-blonde ponytail; her pointer finger is in her mouth.

Other than Beth and Clarissa, your only friends are your horses, and you gallop with your own two legs to practice strides in the school parking lot. You are the only Chinese girl in your mostly Jewish prep school in Boca Raton, Florida, and people call you “Cheesy Chink” because you smell, they say.

You wear headgear, a back brace when it’s cold outside.

The next day, you wear your mom’s bra under your school uniform.

You stuff it with cloudy silicone pads shaped like chicken cutlets.

Here’s what you do when you come home from school: Find Chad in last year’s yearbook.

Call Clarissa and Beth on three-way to tell them you found him: they both say, and you agree.

They send erotic poems, photos of the stirring bulge in their pants, hyphen roses that blossom into @ symbols.

One man named Richard sends a blurry photo of his cock next to a Coke can, for scale.

Now, though, you are the saddest you have ever been in your life. When he calls, it is the first time you’ve ever heard his voice. You plan to meet him the next day between C and D periods, just a wave in the hall, so you can find out who he is.