The Leavers (National Book Award Finalist): A Novel

Daniel concentrated on reading the list of drink specials over the cash register. VEN-TI LA-TTE.

on and on about the differences between the New York City subway system and the London subway system, or texting him pictures of cats she said she was going to get and never did,

Even his pants were tighter than they had been a few months ago, now that he drove instead of walking.

“Do you like New York?” You sucked up more tea and eyed me across the table as you blew a soft, loose bubble. “Yes.” “What do you like about it?” “Subway.”

The white sheep comes home to roost.

Daniel had come across a picture in an article he was reading online, Lower Broadway on a spring afternoon, delivery vans and cabs, halal food carts and fire escapes. That night, for the first time since he had come to China, he listened to the songs he had written over the summer.

He and Michael batted their faces against the rattling plastic fan and sang la-le-la-le-la, the vibrations taking their words and spitting them out in a watery brown croak.