At my silence, Dr. Copeland continued. “Whether you created the note or someone else did that for you is not the point.”

My panic was so great by now I could only take shallow breaths. I knew I could be expelled when I was completely innocent. Why couldn’t I open my mouth to tell them the truth? My emotions were all jumbled up inside and I felt paralyzed. I was still in a state of shock at the cheating accusation itself. And in part, I was so stunned Tammy would cheat that I couldn’t bring myself to accuse her. How could I have thought that it had been a personal note for me? I burned with shame at wanting so much to be liked, to belong to a circle of friends, that I had picked up something during a test. What would Ma say if I not only got kicked out, but for cheating!

Both women were staring at me, waiting for my answer.

There was a knock on the door. Mrs. Reynolds cracked it open. “Yes?”

To my surprise, I heard Curt’s voice. “The assistant teacher gave me permission to come here. I have something to say.”

After he entered the office, Curt spoke in a clear voice. “I saw Kimberly pick up that piece of paper.”

Dr. Copeland tapped her cheek with one finger. “And it was just lying there?”

Curt swallowed. He didn’t know what I’d already told them. “I didn’t see anything else. Only her picking it up.”

“So, Kimberly, either you were very foolish or you were picking up something you had dropped yourself. Or your friend is covering up for you.”

My eyes shot to Curt’s. “He is not my friend,” I said, before I could censor myself.

Curt had a wry smile on his face. “She’s right. We’ve hardly ever spoken to each other before.”

I saw Dr. Copeland glance at Mrs. Reynolds, who gave a slight nod. Mrs. Reynolds was agreeing that Curt and I weren’t friends.

“So the question is, were you picking up something dropped by someone else or by yourself?” Dr. Copeland said.

“It is not my penmanship,” I said.

“The writing is so small, it’s hard to tell.”

The time had come for honesty. “I am too smart to cheat,” I said, feeling my face grow warm at my own arrogance. No good Chinese girl would say such a thing about herself. “It is under me.”

Dr. Copeland pulled one corner of her mouth back in a half-smile. “You mean it’s beneath you. All right, the two of you may return to the class and take the test. Mrs. Reynolds and I are going to discuss this further.”

As soon as Curt and I were out of their hearing range, I turned to him and asked, “Why did you do that for me?”

He shrugged. “Because I did see you. And I heard Sheryl give Tammy the idea.”

“You mean, to put the note in her sleeve?”

“Yeah.”

I looked at him for a long moment. “Thank you.”

He grinned. “I’d hate to see you get kicked out since I always cheat off of your tests.”

I stopped short. “What?”

He gave me a playful punch. “Just kidding.”

When we entered the classroom, all the kids looked up from their tests in progress, their curiosity plain across their faces. Tammy’s eyes were swimming in tears. I angrily wondered if the tears were from guilt or having to work through the test without her cheat sheet. I was sure everyone else thought I was a cheater, and felt grateful that Curt had come and walked back with me, as indirect proof of my innocence. I took the test with even more care than normal because I knew the school’s final judgment of the situation would depend partly on how I performed without any notes. The assistant teacher kept a keen eye on me. After a short while, Mrs. Reynolds came back and resumed her seat at the front of the room as if nothing had happened.

When the bell rang, everyone got up and handed in their papers. Mrs. Reynolds said, “Kim and Curt, you have ten more minutes since you started late, but no more than that.” Her tone was hard to read, but I was afraid I had lost the respect of a teacher I liked a great deal.

When our time was up, she took our papers and silently handed us late passes for our next class, which had already begun. So it wasn’t until lunch that Tammy was able to catch up with me.

She slipped in next to me on the lunch line and squeezed my arm. Since she hadn’t been called to the office, she knew I hadn’t told on her. I stared at her hand on my blazer sleeve, torn between fury, confusion and the desire to forget the whole incident. She didn’t say a word, and then moved away again.

The next day, I found a card she’d slid into my locker that said, “I’m so sorry! Thank you!!!!” I wondered if she might feel closer to me now. I had hoped we were developing a friendship. Would we really become close now? But after that, she avoided me.

I was hardly able to eat or sleep until our Physical Science class the next day. I didn’t dare tell Ma or Annette about this. The whole experience made me feel ill and I was not at all sure I had handled it right. Most of all, I was embarrassed and disgusted at myself for thinking Tammy might pass me a note. Would I be summoned to the office again, or simply get a letter at home telling me I’d been expelled?

The class came at last and Mrs. Reynolds solemnly handed back everyone’s tests. She’d graded them faster than usual. I saw Mrs. Reynolds give Tammy a hard look when she returned her test. She knew as well as I did who had been sitting in front of me. By craning my neck, I could see Tammy had failed. I felt sorry for her, but vindicated as well.

Mrs. Reynolds laid my test on my desk. I’d gotten a 96. She bent down and whispered, “We’re going to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

She put her hand on my shoulder with a smile, and I saw that she, at least, was convinced of my innocence. I glanced at the other students surreptitiously and saw most of the class watching us. The knot in my stomach began to loosen.

I only hoped that Dr. Copeland didn’t have any remaining doubts either.

It was also in the eighth grade that we finally got a phone at home. I knew the monthly payments pained Ma, but I was too ashamed to be the one omission in the stapled school telephone directory everyone received. It seemed to be a public declaration of poverty that came too close to showing everyone the truth about the way we really lived. Ma had finally agreed to the phone, persuaded by the argument that I needed it to discuss homework.

But most things hadn’t changed, they’d simply become routine. I grew into the space that Ma’s foreignness left vacant. She hadn’t learned any more English, so I took over everything that required any kind of interaction with the world outside of Chinatown. I pored over our income tax forms every year, using the documents the factory provided for us. I read the fine print repeatedly, hoping I was doing it right. If Ma needed to buy something at a store or to make a complaint or a return, I had to do it for her. The worst was when Ma wanted to bargain, the way she had in Hong Kong, and I had to translate for her.

“Tell him we’ll only pay two dollars,” Ma said to me at the American fish store near our apartment.

“Ma, you can’t do this here!”

“Just say it!”

I gave the fishmonger an apologetic smile. I was only thirteen. “Two dollars?”

He was not amused. “Two dollars and fifty cents.”

Later, Ma scolded me for not having had the right attitude. She was sure that if I’d been firmer, we would have gotten a discount.

At school, I still kept mostly to myself. In the middle of winter, some kids started coming to school with tanned cheeks and white rings around their eyes from their ski goggles, exultant about places like Snowbird in Utah and Vallery in France. There was a rage for a certain brand of ski jacket, tight and short, with a high collar around the neck, and soon most kids in my homeroom class were wearing one. I heard the jackets cost at least 20,000 skirts each.