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Informationen zum Autor Mae Coyiuto is a Chinese Filipino writer, born and raised in the Philippines. Mae earned her BA in psychology from Pomona College and her master’s degree in writing for children and young adults from the New School. If she’s not writing, she’s usually fangirling over Beyoncé, tennis, Gilmore Girls , or all of the above. She currently lives in Manila. Klappentext Seventeen-year-old Chinese-Filipina Chloe's father sets her up on a marathon of arranged dates in hopes of convincing her to stay close to their Manila home for college. Leseprobe 1 The Liang family lunch is far from the ideal setting to celebrate my dream coming true. Unless you're abroad or on your deathbed, attendance at Sunday lunch is mandatory. When my cousin Peter got his wisdom teeth pulled out, Auntie Queenie still brought him to the same Chinese restaurant our family has been going to since the beginning of time. So when I tried asking Pa if I could sit this one out, he gave me his go-to answer: "If Peter can make it to the restaurant with cheeks as swollen as tennis balls, you can too." Things would be more bearable if Pa hadn't already broken the news about USC to my aunties. I begged him not to post anything after I told him that I got off the wait list. He stayed silent on Instagram, but I'd completely forgotten about the Liang family group chat. His photo series went like this: a picture of my USC wait-list letter, me frowning, my acceptance letter, me smiling. All the photos had the accompanying hashtags #FromWaitListToYesList #CantGoLowyWithChloe . Pa is weirdly obsessed with hashtags and adds them at the end of every message. He once spammed the groupchat with dozens of them, and I messaged him separately that they don't work that way. Auntie Queenie proceeded to reply with more hashtags and renamed the group #LiangFamGang . In terms of USC, it's not that I want to keep secrets from my family. It's more that I already know what my aunties have to say. "Chloe, I don't understand why you're considering going to America to study cartoons." Auntie Rita says "cartoons" like it's a dirty word. When my aunties first heard that I'd applied to a college in the US, they were shell-shocked. When they found out I wanted to study animation, they were downright offended. "How are you going to support yourself? You should choose a major that's practical. Something that you can build here." She turns to Pa. "Ahia, your daughter is getting too Americanized." I bite my tongue and flash my polite smile, the one where I keep my mouth shut and lift the corners of my lips. It's the secret weapon I deploy when my relatives make me want to say what I actually think. Americanized has become my aunties' favorite word around me. Just last week, Auntie Queenie shared an old picture of me wearing a crop top at the beach on our family groupchat with the message Look at Chloe. She's so #Americanized! I shit you not, a crop top turned me American. The thing is, I don't get why being Americanized is bad. Just because I like some parts of American culture doesn't mean I'm rejecting who I am. And I'm still trying to figure out who I really am in the first place. What do you call a Chinese girl who grows up in the Philippines and whose mom lives in the US? I don't really know. "You don't want to be a school's second choice, Chloe," Auntie Queenie chimes in. "Every woman who settles for being the second choice gets cheated on." I can always count on Auntie Queenie for words of wisdom. "No more hunting the Pokémon!" Auntie Rita scolds the kids' table. I peek at the smaller (and more fun) table behind us. Whenever my cousins' kids are on their iPads, Auntie Rita just assumes they're doing something Pokémon related. During my days at the kids' table, all I had to worry about was listening to my perfect cousin Peter ...
