My Girl

When I met him, I was studying at the Curtis Institute of Music. After a furious falling-out with my father, I ran off to America without telling anyone. In this country, full of freedom and people pretending to be Westerners, I felt a new life beckoning. The air in America might have been far cleaner than Beijing's smog, but when I was insulted by a racist student, it became the air I missed most. That very afternoon, I met this shameless, spoiled rich kid and gang leader. I never imagined that one day, I, who had always been a good girl, would go drinking and street racing with someone I'd just met, then have a one-night stand with him without even knowing his name. Zhang Xiaoying's journal