Expelled by Emmy Laybourne Page B

glass in the window. She thought about breaking it and jumping out. But they were two floors up. That was stupid.
    Chang Wu had brought empty boxes. He was a liquor deliveryman and always had them in the back of his van. He always had liquor in the van too, and now there was liquor on his breath.
    Penny stood there awkwardly, eyes darting between the father in the door and Li Jing, near the window.
    â€œI’ll give you guys some room,” Penny said politically. “I guess I’ll … see you around.”
    Penny pocketed her cell phone, grabbed her purse, and slipped out. The door closed behind her.
    â€œFather,” Li Jing said in Chinese. “It was a misunderstanding. I will be able to get into another program, I promise.”
    He stepped to her and grabbed her arm. He dug his nails into the soft skin of her upper arm. Li Jing cried out.
    â€œToo proud!” he said in Chinese. He turned his head and spat on the floor. “Too much ambition! You’ve always thought you were so much better than everyone else and look where it gets you: expelled!”
    His nails were cutting into the skin of her arm. He was shaking with anger and lifting her up. Her body hung at an angle, all her weight borne by her shoulder joint, which seared with pain.
    â€œPa! Please!” Li Jing cried.
    â€œAfter what I did to get you here! How hard I work! Expelled!” He threw her down onto her bed and her head cracked against the wall.
    Her vision swam with stripes and blotches of light. The pain hit her a moment later.
    â€œI can get into another school,” she said. “My research is working. I’ve discovered what might be a cure for—”
    â€œI am glad your mother died when you were born! She would be so ashamed. She would curse your name!”
    Her father threw the first box at her. Then the second. Li Jing brought up her hands to shield her face.
    â€œYou pack, Disgrace,” he said, as if this was her new name. He picked up the suitcase she had already packed. “I will wait in the parking lot.”
    Li Jing lay there, crying for a few minutes. Her forearm was swelling. Crescent-shaped welts marked the red, bruising flesh of her arm. Two were seeping blood.
    She set one of the boxes upright, trying to push out the dent in the corner from where it had hit her.
    She started to put into it the miscellanea from her top desk drawer. There were dorm notices, calendars, pencils, a broken eraser in the form of a gorilla she’d been given at a Secret Santa gift exchange. A bottle of nail strengthener she’d bought from Carolann back when she had been researching her as a possible subject. Some sticky coins and just a bunch of trash. She didn’t need any of it. She closed the drawer. Let Penny throw it all out.
    There was the hot water kettle, used for tea and ramen. Li Jing couldn’t afford the meal plan—didn’t want to pay so much for it. It was another thing Penny had hated about her. Let Penny throw them out.
    Gingerly, Li Jing shouldered her backpack, which contained her cell phone, wallet, computer, and power cord. The weight of the backpack pulling down on her shoulder made her vision swim. Then she picked up the only other thing in the room that mattered to her, the box containing her research.
    The evening was mild, the campus as beautiful as a fairy tale. In front of the Stonehouse dormitory were three blooming cherry trees, their petals just beginning to drop in the warm, April breeze. Li Jing had never felt like she belonged at Clayton University. Now, it was official.
    She trudged around the building, toward the parking lot in back.
    â€œHey!” she heard behind her. “HEY! LI JING!”
    She didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
    She heard footsteps, flip-flop footsteps, and a sweaty palm was on her arm.
    Li Jing turned, “I can’t talk right now.”
    â€œI’m at 181! One hundred and eighty-one pounds!”