Read Hello Kitty Must Die Online
Authors: Angela S. Choi
ON THE OUTSIDE
, twenty-eight-year-old Fiona Yu appears to be just another Hello Kitty—an educated, well-mannered Asian-American woman. Secretly, she feels torn between the traditional Chinese values of her family and the social mores of being an American girl.
To escape the burden of carrying her family’s honor, Fiona decides to take her own virginity. In the process, she makes a surprising discovery that reunites her with a long-lost friend, Sean Killroy. Sean introduces her to a dark world of excitement, danger, cunning and cruelty, pushing her to the limits of her own morality. But Fiona’s father throws her new life into disarray when he dupes her into an overnight trip which results in a hasty engagement to Don Koo, the spoiled son of a wealthy chef.
Determined to thwart her parents’ plan to marry her off into Asian suburbia, Fiona seeks her freedom at any price. How far will she go to bury the Hello Kity stereotype forever? Fiona’s journey of self-discovery is biting and clever as she embraces her true nature and creates her own version of the American Dream, eliminating—without fear of remorse—anyone who stands in her way.
Published by
TYRUS BOOKS
an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.
4700 East Galbraith Road
Cincinnati, Ohio 45236
Copyright © 2010 by Angela S. Choi
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction.
Any similarities to people or places, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
eISBN 10: 1-4405-3080-7
eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-3080-7
This work has been previously published in print format under the following ISBNs:
ISBN 978-1-9355-6203-0 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-9355-6202-3 (paperback)
“Smells Like Teen Spirit”
Written by Kurt Cobain, Dave Grohl, and Krist Novoselic
Published by EMI Virgin Songs, Inc. o/b/o The End of Music and Primary Wave Tunes, Songs of Universal, Inc. on behalf of MJ Twelve Music, and Murky Slough Music Courtesy of Geffen Records under license from Universal Music Enterprises
All Rights Reserved. Used by Permission.
---
Words and Music by Kurt Cobain, Krist Novoselic and Dave Grohl
© 1991 THE END OF MUSIC, PRIMARY WAVE TUNES, M.J. TWELVE MUSIC and MURKY SLOUGH MUSIC
All Rights for THE END OF MUSIC and PRIMARY WAVE TUNES Controlled and Administered by EMI VIRGIN SONGS, INC.
All Rights for M.J. TWELVE MUSIC Controlled and Administered by SONGS OF UNIVERSAL, INC.
All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured.
Used by Permission.
Reprinted by permission of the Hal Leonard Corporation
“Dancing Queen”
Words and Music by BENNY ANDERSSON, STIG ANGERSON and BJORN ULVAEUS
© 1976 (Renewed) POLAR MUSIC AB (Sweden) All Rights in the U.S. and Canada Administered by EMI GROVE PARK MUSIC, INC.
and UNIVERSAL-SONGS OF POLYGRAM INTERNATIONAL, INC.
Exclusive Print Rights for EMI GROVE PARK MUSIC INC.
Controlled by ALFRED MUSIC PUBLISHING CO., INC.
All Rights Outside the U.S. and Canada
Administered by UNIVERSAL-SONGS OF POLYGRAM INTERNATIONAL, INC.
All Rights Reserved. Used by Permission.
---
Words and Music by Benny Andersson, Bjorn Ulvaeus and Stig Anderson
Copyright © 1977 UNIVERSAL/UNION SONGS MUSIKFORLAG AB
Copyright Renewed
All Rights in the United States and Canada Controlled and Administered by UNIVERSAL-SONGS OF POLYGRAM INTERNATIONAL, INC. and EMI GROVE PARK MUSIC, INC.
All Rights Reserved. Used by Permission
Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation
“Love Shack”
Words and Music by Catherine E. Pierson, Frederick W. Schneider, Keith J. Strickland and Cynthia L. Wilson
© 1989 MAN WOMAN TOGETHER NOW!,
INC. and EMI BLACKWOOD MUSIC INC.
All Rights for MAN WOMAN TOGETHER NOW!,
INC. Controlled and Administered by EMI APRIL MUSIC INC.
All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured.
Used by Permission.
Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation
“Heart Shaped Box”
Words and Music by Kurt Cobain
© 1993 THE END OF MUSIC and PRIMARY WAVE TUNES
All Rights Controlled and Administered by EMI VIRGIN SONGS, INC.
All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured.
Used by Permission
Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation
“Come As You Are”
Words and Music by Kurt Cobain
© 1991 THE END OF MUSIC and PRIMARY WAVE TUNES
All Rights Controlled and Administered by EMI VIRGIN SONGS, INC.
All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured.
Used by Permission.
Reprinted by permission of Hal Leonard Corporation
To Mom, Dad, Meatball, St. Jude
I would like to thank the wonderful people who made this project possible:
Robert Ressler, my creative writing coach, for guiding me through my transition to the writing life
John Kithas, for employing me while I wrote this book
Lynda, for telling me to just start this book already
Adrian Weber, my friend, personal editor, and reader, for helping me come up with a kickass title, editing my first draft, and cheering me on
Marie Mockett for guiding me through the querying/ publication process
Andrea Somberg for giving me suggestions to polish the novel
Josh Getzler, my fabulous agent, for going above and beyond the call of duty to sell this novel
Alison Janssen, for being a brilliant editor
Ben Leroy, for buying this novel in the first place
Mom Dad for putting me here on this planet
Meatball, my fat parakeet, for being an inspiration
St. Jude, for prayers answered
Dick Cheney for being Dick Cheney
CHAPTER
I
T ALL STARTED
with my missing hymen.
One week before my twenty-eighth birthday, I decided to take my own virginity with a silicone dildo coated in two-percent Lidocaine gel.
Silicone dildos are the best. Firm, smooth, easy to clean, and most importantly, you can boil them in water. We Chinese folks love to boil things. Our chopsticks, our teacups, our pots and pans, and especially our drinking water. Nothing goes inside our bodies without being boiled in water first.
Silicone dildos are also the ideal choice for people who have allergies.
I have a lot of allergies. That and I didn’t quite fancy the idea of asking some emergency room doctor to pick glass shards out of my vagina. And as the saleswoman said, glass dildos would be “less than ideal” for my present intentions.
I selected a purple medium-sized dildo with a flared base for easy grip. As it was not attached to a male body, I figured I would need to have a firm handle on it. Not that it would have gone anywhere except out the way it went in, but still.
And like everything else, it was “Made in China.” A fact my parents would surely appreciate. They like everything made in the home country.
I named my dildo Mr. Happy. I thought it would be an appropriate name for something that would have the privilege of destroying my family’s honor, which I had upheld dutifully between my legs for nearly three decades.
The existence of that untouched membrane sent every American boy running, especially when I told them that we couldn’t have sex until we got married. As no one wanted to marry me by the third date, my insistence of keeping my hymen intact put a huge damper on my dating life. Had my parents and I stayed in Hong Kong, it would have been less of a problem. Traditional Chinese people frown upon premarital sex.
But we were not in China. We lived in the home city of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence who had been “defining San Francisco values since 1979.” We lived in the golden state of California, which had the second highest teen pregnancy rate in the nation. We lived in the United States of America, the nation of
Girls Gone Wild
, where that thin sliver of tissue did not get anyone’s family an extra head of cattle. All it did was keep me home every Friday and Saturday night.
So when I met Chip, I decided to assimilate into debauchery and vice, to bite into forbidden fruit American-style. Family honor be damned. Not because Chip was Mr. Right, but because he happened to be Mr. There-At-The-Right-Time. Except there was a problem: my father.
“You’re not coming home tonight, Fiona?”
“Big project. Whole office pulling an all-nighter.”
“Okay. Work hard.”
And I was free to sin.
Thank God the Chinese are not into honor killing—at least I would not be dragged out into the village square and stoned, stabbed, or set on fire. I considered myself lucky.
It would just make my mother cry.
Unfortunately, my hymen felt differently. The dozen condoms I bought sat unused on the nightstand, next to a packet of Plan B pills. Suspenders
and
a belt for me. I am a woman who buys double insurance. But my insurance proved unnecessary for my hymen refused to be obliterated, pulverized, annihilated. Its resistance to all three of Chip’s attempts had not been futile. It left him whimpering and nursing himself in the dark. It sent me to Dr. Ng’s examination room.
“His weenie bounced out of me like I had a trampoline down there. I must have one tough hymen. Maybe you’ll need to cut it open. You can do that right?” I asked. Lying on my back on the paper-covered table, I counted the little holes in the ceiling tiles while Dr. Ng examined me with a long Q-tip.
“Actually, you’re already open. I really can’t see a problem,” replied Dr. Ng from underneath my dressing gown.
“No, seriously, it wouldn’t go in. I kept asking him what the hell was wrong with his equipment. Maybe he was too small. He was the same size as a low-absorbency tampon. Do you think that matters?”
“Uh, no, it should still work.”
“That’s what I thought. But anyway, I told him it wasn’t his fault as that’s what God gave him. Then he went all floppy.”
“You said that to him?”
“Yeah, I was trying to make him feel better.”
“Next time, Fiona, don’t try to make him feel better.”
“Oh, there’s not going to be a next time, Dr. Ng.”
“Why is that?”
“He wouldn’t let me wipe him down with an alcohol pad. You know, to sanitize that area before slipping the condom on.”