Excerpt from What Hunger by Catherine Dang, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

CHAPTER 1

Tommy had called it "The Big Summer." He never said things like that—things that were corny, optimistic, easy to disprove. They seemed juvenile. In my eyes, he was older than his years. His mind worked so quickly that it aged faster than the rest of him.

But Tommy could sense something coming.

"It's almost like you're on a roller coaster, climbing up toward something big at the top, you know?" he murmured one night. I turned to look at him on the other side of the room. He faced me from his bed. Moonlight slipped in through the window, cutting through the aisle that separated my side of the room from his.

"I kind of get it," I said, yawning. "I just think you're nervous about tomorrow."

Tommy didn't reply.

The next day, he graduated from high school. Ba, M?, and I were stuck sitting on the bleachers in the high school gymnasium. We were trapped somewhere in the middle, crammed on the far edge of a row.

It was sweltering hot. The gym reeked of sweat, tobacco, heavy cologne, cheap perfume. There was body odor, too, some of it heady, some of it sour. And when one scent ended, another took its place, equally as strong. The smells made me nauseous.

I pinched my nose shut with one hand.

"Veronica, stop that," M? said loudly. "You'll ruin your nose."

"It stinks," I hissed.

"Not that much," M? said. "You're being dramatic."

"I can't breathe," I hissed back.

"You don't have to whisper. You're fine."

I rolled my eyes. M? seldom whispered in public. She and Ba could say anything in Vietnamese and get away with it. Most people didn't understand her. But I always had to watch my English around other people.

"What kind of school sets up a graduation like this?" said Ba. He had already taken off his blazer. It was eighty degrees outside, but Ba had insisted on wearing a suit. He said we needed to dress for the occasion. "This is garbage."

M? nodded.

"Like a third-world country," she said. She fanned herself with a paper program that she'd been given.

On the floor, there was a raised platform with a few chairs and a podium. Metal folding chairs flanked both sides of the stage. The high school band played behind it. Even the music seemed weighed down by the heat.

Ba turned to me.

"How much longer?"

"Five minutes," I said, annoyed.

"It better."

But people were still filing in. Westbrook High School said only three relatives were allowed at graduation per student, but it seemed like most people had broken the rules. Like the town of Westbrook, the crowd was made up of mostly white families: grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins who all added to the heat.

Someone propped open the doors and placed fans next to them. They tried to blow out the hot air, but it didn't work. The minutes crept along slowly. Then the crowd stood up, and a wave of blue caps and gowns began streaming in, hazy and slow. Tommy was among them, tall and dark, his eyes focused on the stage. I felt feverish in the heat as we sped through the Pledge of Allegiance, the school song, the principal's speech.

I gave up pinching my nose—I tried breathing through my mouth instead. But my tongue was parched. A bead of sweat had dripped onto my glasses. Ba had taken off his striped tie.

Then it was Tommy's turn at the podium. He was the year's valedictorian, and he had a gold honors stole around his shoulders and a gold tassel on his cap. Tommy was tan from his days outside, working for a landscaping company. Under his blue robes, he glowed like the sun.

Ba suddenly stood up. He had a camera in his hand, pointing it at Tommy. There was a flash as the camera snapped a picture.

"Ba," I hissed, and I thought my cheeks were burning red. "Sit down, you're being rude."

The white man behind him glared, but Ba didn't move.

From the stage, Tommy seemed alarmed for a moment, seeing our father rise from the bleachers. But when he spoke, his voice was clear.

Excerpted from What Hunger by Catherine Dang. Copyright © 2025 by Catherine Dang. Excerpted by permission of Simon & Schuster. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.