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

"Greetings, everyone. I don't plan to make this speech too long, but I just wanted to say a few words for the occasion. After all, this is a tremendous moment in the lives of this year's graduating class of Westbrook High School.

"These past four years have moved so quickly and so slowly at the same time. We've all been busy: learning, playing sports, making art, performing, working, volunteering, hanging out with friends, making memories. Now I guess we're at the end of it."

Tommy paused, one hand brushing away the sweat from his forehead.

"Nothing's certain in life," he continued. "Some of us plan to go to college, others to work, others to the army. Some of us don't know what we're doing. All of us are still trying to find ourselves. There is no guarantee of how things will turn out—that's the scary yet hopeful truth. But what is certain is today, our graduation, the here and now. And the fact that summer is… well, it's here in this room." He paused as a few people politely laughed. "So let's all make the most of it, as we celebrate The Big Summer before the rest of our lives."

The crowd broke into applause. M? was clapping her hands so hard that her palms turned pink. Ba was nodding, beaming. Tommy only smiled as his hands gripped the sides of the podium.

We had Tommy's graduation party at the house. Like most parties, it doubled as a family event. The usual people came over: aunts, uncles, cousins, the children of cousins, and the other aunts and uncles who we weren't sure were family or friends or family of friends. The men sat in the garage and on the patio. They smoked and drank cheap beer and ate whatever the women brought over—bowls of mì Qu?ng, trays of crispy pork belly and roast duck, eggrolls, and shrimp chips with mango salad. That was how they liked to nh?u in the summer.

The women stayed in the kitchen. Most of them sat around the kitchen table, nursing a few beers, eating, and gossiping. Their favorite subjects: their children, other people, and things that happened back home.

Meanwhile, M? was on the move. She cooked, cleaned, and organized the food that people had brought us. Hair spilled out of her bun, her apron unspooling behind her back. Even at other people's homes, M? could rarely stay seated. She liked to stay busy. And while the conversations grew animated around her, M? smiled politely, always too busy to talk.

I was stuck outside with the kids. None of my teenage cousins had come—they'd been lucky. The younger kids chased each other around: the oldest among them was about nine, and I'd never seen him before in my life. The two of us kicked a soccer ball in the grass, but it wasn't much of a game. I kept blasting the ball right past him.

It would have been more fun to play with Tommy, but he was on the move with Ba. Tommy was supposed to greet each adult who came by. Those greetings usually became full conversations, where Ba was talking and Tommy was stuck standing there. I knew he hated it.

"Veronica!" M? called. She waved from the patio. The men sitting outside turned to watch. "Where's your brother?"

"I don't know."

"Go get him. He hasn't eaten yet."

"Can't you do it?" I replied.

"Find him," she said. Her voice was pleasant, but her expression said otherwise.

I sighed. I left the kid and followed M? through the patio door. The men outside watched with interest. In the kitchen, the same thing happened: the conversation went quiet, and the women stared at me. It always happened at family gatherings. The adults gawked like children at a zoo. They were just as loud.

"You know, she's bigger than they usually are at that age."

"It's the milk. The extra hormones in there make them huge."

"Is that safe?"

"Why is she slouching?" asked one of the aunties. "God makes the girl strong and tall, so why does she ruin her posture? She walks like a water buffalo."

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.