Tahereh Mafi - A Very Large Expanse of Sea

Dear Reader:

What you’re about to read is inspired by the true events of my life. Ultimately, this is a work of fiction, but Shirin’s story is an amalgamation of real experiences. I was a freshman in high school in 2001. I used to breakdance. On the first day of my sophomore year I was starting at my third high school. The world around me was cruel and xenophobic and racist, and people had broken my heart so many times that by my sixteenth birthday I could no longer find the words to articulate my anger. This book is an attempt to capture this emotion—and its evolution—on paper.

Contemporary fiction is a departure for me—I’m mostly known for my Shatter Me series—but I knew I’d end up here. It’s always been my hope to change the perception of Muslim women in the media. When I was a teenager, I only ever saw ladies in hijab on the news; Muslim women were depicted only at the forefront of controversy. We were allowed a voice—a platform—only if we used that voice to remain within the confines of religion or culture or what was considered our oppression. As a young person, I desperately longed to see a Muslim woman break free from those stereotypes. I wanted to see her recognized for more than her knowledge of politics and/or religion. Establishing myself as an author separate and apart from my identity as a Muslim woman was a feat I once never thought possible. But this—this book—is also a feat I once never thought possible. Because even though I knew I would write this book, I never knew if it would find an audience.

A Very Large Expanse of Sea is about giving a voice to the Muslim American teenager in a world where they’re seldom given a chance to speak. It’s about love and hate and breakdancing. It’s my story, and I’m grateful to you for reading.

Tahereh Mafi

First published in the USA 2018 by HarperCollins Children’s Books

First published in Great Britain 2018

by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Published by arrangement with HarperCollins Children’s Books,

a division of HarperCollins Publishers, New York, New York, USA

Text copyright © 2018 Tahereh Mafi

First e-book edition 2018

ISBN 978 1 4052 9260 3

Ebook ISBN 978 1 4052 9264 1

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet.

Egmont takes its responsibility to the planet and its inhabitants very seriously. We aim to use papers from well-managed forests run by responsible suppliers.

Contents

Cover

Copyright First published in the USA 2018 by HarperCollins Children’s Books First published in Great Britain 2018 by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN Published by arrangement with HarperCollins Children’s Books, a division of HarperCollins Publishers, New York, New York, USA Text copyright © 2018 Tahereh Mafi First e-book edition 2018 ISBN 978 1 4052 9260 3 Ebook ISBN 978 1 4052 9264 1 www.egmont.co.uk A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Stay safe online. Any website addresses listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Egmont is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the internet. Egmont takes its responsibility to the planet and its inhabitants very seriously. We aim to use papers from well-managed forests run by responsible suppliers.

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Back series promotional page

One

We always seemed to be moving, always for the better, always to make our lives better, whatever. I couldn’t keep up with the emotional whiplash. I’d attended so many elementary schools and middle schools I couldn’t keep their names straight anymore but this, this switching high schools all the time thing was really starting to make me want to die. This was my third high school in less than two years and my life seemed suddenly to comprise such a jumble of bullshit every day that sometimes I could hardly move my lips. I worried that if I spoke or screamed my anger would grip both sides of my open mouth and rip me in half.

So I said nothing.

It was the end of August, all volatile heat and the occasional breeze. I was surrounded by starched backpacks and stiff denim and kids who smelled like fresh plastic. They seemed happy.

I sighed and slammed my locker shut.

For me, today was just another first day of school in another new city, so I did what I always did when I showed up at a new school: I didn’t look at people. People were always looking at me, and when I looked back they often took it as an invitation to speak to me, and when they spoke to me they nearly always said something offensive or stupid or both and I’d decided a long time ago that it was easier to pretend they just didn’t exist.

I’d managed to survive the first three classes of the day without major incident, but I was still struggling to navigate the school itself. My next class seemed to be on the other side of campus, and I was trying to figure out where I was—crosschecking room numbers against my new class schedule—when the final bell rang. In the time it took my stunned self to glance up at the clock, the masses of students around me had disappeared. I was suddenly alone in a long, empty hallway, my printed schedule now crumpled in one fist. I squeezed my eyes shut and swore under my breath.

When I finally found my next class I was seven minutes late. I pushed open the door, the hinges slightly squeaking, and students turned around in their seats. The teacher stopped talking, his mouth still caught around a sound, his face frozen between expressions.

He blinked at me.

I averted my eyes, even as I felt the room contract around me. I slid into the nearest empty seat and said nothing. I took a notebook out of my bag. Grabbed a pen. I was hardly breathing, waiting for the moment to pass, waiting for people to turn away, waiting for my teacher to start talking again when he suddenly cleared his throat and said—