Excerpt from The Silence that Binds Us by Joanna Ho, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"You changed that one last week," I said.

"I got these new LED bulbs. They save energy and were on sale. Don't worry, I'll keep the other bulbs in my emergency box." His slipper caught on the edge of the bookshelf and he wobbled.

"Careful, Bà."

"I'm fine," he said lightly. Then he added in a low voice, "How are you doing, Yam?"

"Eh." I knew he wanted to cheer me up, but I didn't want to talk about dinner. Or Mom.

My dad was quiet as he twisted a bulb into place. Then he said with a slightly over-the-top conspiratorial tone, "Hey, last time I changed this bulb you told me about that boy, what's his name? John, Joe, Jacob—"

"Josh."

"Oh yeah, Josh. Football player but quiet. Big-shot VC dad. See? I remember. He passes you funny notes in class."

"Yeah, he folds them into little triangular footballs."

"Tell him you can't date until you're forty-five."

"Date? Who dates? That's for old people, Bà. These days, people just hook up." I pretended not to see my dad's eyebrows shoot up in alarm as I climbed onto my bed to dig around for my phone; it was always getting lost under the covers or wedged in between the wall and the mattress. "Besides, I don't like him like that. He's just a friend."

"He'll stick to funny notes if he knows what's good for him. There, all done." My dad hopped to the floor with a thud. He patted me on the back, then turned around at my bedroom door and said casually, "Your mom's downstairs in the kitchen. I bet she'd love someone to talk to."

When I walked into the kitchen, my mom nodded, but she didn't say anything; she just kept packing up the leftovers.

I loaded the dishwasher and started a cycle. The hum of the machine and the rush of water from the faucet were the only sounds in the kitchen. That stupid pregnant hippo tromped around me in circles like a well-trained circus animal as I soaped up the sponge and started scrubbing pots.

Finally, my mom broke the silence.

"Celeste ," she said. Xiàoshùn, is like my mom's favorite word. I looked it up once, and the internet said it means "filial piety," which looks and sounds like gibberish to me. There really isn't a good translation. It's like obedient, respectful, caring, and every other desirable quality rolled into one intimidating word. All good Chinese kids should be.

It bothered me that I had been thinking about my mom all night, but she had been thinking about Celeste. Granted, I wasn't thinking very nice things, but at least I was thinking about her. "Yeah, she's pretty perfect, Ma."

I told myself not to say anything more. My mom looked up sharply, her rudeness radar on full alert. "What's wrong with you, Maybelline?"

"Nothing."

"Celeste knows what is best for her future and she works very hard. You can learn a lot from her."

"I work hard, too, Ma."

"Do you?" She snapped the lid onto a glass container. "Celeste, but you could have a Google internship too."

"I don't want a Google internship."

"Then what do you want?"

I felt like this was a trick question, so I kept my mouth shut.

"When Danny was your age, he was already joining clubs and leading the basketball team."

I scrubbed the pot in my hand like I was trying to clean off the Teflon. I could hear her from past conversations: I should have signed you up for camp or a summer program. I never had to do that for Danny; he was already so involved. My mom's pregnant hippo plopped itself beside me and stared up with unblinking disapproval; she let it convey all her disappointment as she kept cleaning. I made a face at it, then turned my back to string up some lights in my cave of silence.

She wasn't done, though. "You're smart too. So smart you don't study hard. You're just going along. Floating along."

"I get good grades, Ma."

Excerpted from The Silence that Binds Us by Joanna Ho. Copyright © 2022 by Joanna Ho. Excerpted by permission of HarperTeen. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.