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Frankly in Love (Frankly in Love, #1) by David Yoon Read Online (FREE)

Frankly in Love (Frankly in Love, #1) by David Yoon Read Online

Read Frankly in Love (Frankly in Love, #1) by David Yoon online free here.

before we begin

 

Well, I have two names.

That’s what I say when people ask me what my middle name is. I say:

Well, I have two names.

My first name is Frank Li. Mom-n-Dad gave me that name mostly with the character count in mind.

No, really: F+R+A+N+K+L+I contains seven characters, and seven is a lucky number in America.

Frank is my American name, meaning it’s my name-name.

My second name is Sung-Min Li, and it’s my Korean name, and it follows similar numerological cosmology:

S+U+N+G+M+I+N+L+I contains nine characters, and nine is a lucky number in Korea. Nobody calls me Sung-Min, not even Mom-n-Dad. They just call me Frank.

So I don’t have a middle name. Instead, I have two names.

Anyway: I guess having both lucky numbers seven and nine is supposed to make me some kind of bridge between cultures or some shit.

America, this is Korea, Korea, this is America.

Everyone good? Can I go do my thing now?

Good.

the fall season

 

of the senior year

 

of the high school period

 

of early human life

 

chapter 1

 

lake girlfriend

 

Senior year is begun.

Is begun sounds cooler than the more normal has begun, because if you say it right, you sound like a lone surviving knight delivering dire news to a weary king on the brink of defeat, his limp hand raking his face with dread. The final breach is begun, your grace. The downfall of House Li is begun.

I’m the king in that scenario, by the way, raking my face with dread.

For senior year is begun.

Sometimes I look way back to six months ago, during the halcyon days of junior year. How we pranced in the meadows after taking the PSAT: a practice run of the SAT, which in Playa Mesa, in California, in the United States of America, is widely used to gauge whether an early human is fit for entrance into an institution of higher learning.

But the PSAT?

A mere trial, we juniors sang. What counts not for shit, your grace!

How we lazed in the sunlight, sharing jokes about that one reading comprehension passage about the experiment testing whether dogs found it easier to tip a bin (easier) for food or pull a rope (trickier). Based on the passage and results in Figure 4, were the dogs

  1. A) more likely to solve the rope task than the bin task?B) more frustrated by the rope task than the bin task?C) more likely to resent their human caregivers for being presented with such absurd tasks to begin with, I mean, just give us the food in a damn dog bowl like normal people?OrD) more likely to rake a paw over their face with dread? The answer was D.

For come Score Day, I discovered I got a total of 1400 points out of a possible 1520, the 96th percentile. This earned me plenty of robust, spontaneous high fives from my friends, but to me they sounded like palms—ptt ptt ptt—slapping the sealed door of a crypt.