The Moon is a Tennis Ball

By Ticana Zhu

Jake and Lana are childhood friends. As they enter high school, their lives change. They struggle to reconcile growing apart. The Asian Mid-Autumn fest in their town celebrates the "August Moon"--the revered harvest moon in Asian culture. Events leading to this holiday give both a chance at seeing themselves and their desires clearer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ticana Zhu
• Release date: Sep 14, 2021

Book preview

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The Moon

is a

Tennis Ball

An August Moon Romance

T I C A N A Z H U

For more information, visit space-tigers.com

Copyright © 2021 by Ticana Zhu

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, please email [e-mail].

Printed in the USA

ISBN: 978-1-949195-23-1 (ebook)

First Edition

WARNING:

This story briefly suggests physical harm inflicted by others

To those who showed me I didn’t need permission to live authentically.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter One

What’s your favorite Mid-Autumn story? Lana asked absentmindedly, tossing a tennis ball in the air.

Isn’t there only one? Jake sighed, grabbing his equipment. School started in two weeks; he wanted to make the tennis team. He didn’t have time to listen to his friend’s idleness. Being a second-generation Chinese child, Lana’s parents wanted to make sure she knew the culture. Growing up, she’d get books on history and myth. Jake didn’t discount there were multiple stories for the holiday, but he only knew one.

Lana ignored him. Holding a tennis ball in the air, she closed one eye and focused the other. When I was little, my cousin convinced me the moon was a tennis ball. Giggling, Lana added, I tried to see the ball lines on the moon, but he told me the rains had washed them away. That’s why the surface looks all messy.

Jake ambled to his side of the court. He’d known Lana since he was five. She was sporty, but easily distracted. Lana would’ve definitely been competition if she’d tried out, but fortunately for him, she held no interest. It’d take the fun out of it, she’d said. Jake didn’t know if he should feel grateful.

Just serve, please, he said with forced patience. He had someplace to be in an hour.

With grace, Lana bounced the ball a few times. Eliciting jealousy from Jake, she struck it smoothly over the net.

Time after time, she always sent the ball back, never going out-of-bounds.

Jake didn’t feel on his game. Focus, he grunted to himself, grinding his teeth. It’d always been hard for him to make friends. Kids his age thought he was too serious. When his youth club asked him to volunteer, he couldn’t turn it down. Everyone had looked to him with expectancy. He couldn’t lose points by saying, No.

What do I know about chicken wire and paper? he grumbled, catching Lana’s serve. His wrist wobbled and it nearly hit the net. Jake cursed under his breath.

Every autumn, various Asian communities around the city got together with local businesses in the park. They staged a weekend event somewhere between Oktoberfest and Homecoming; for the Mid-Autumn festival. Youth clubs were charged with making large lanterns—similar to parade floats—but with led bulbs and stationary.

Jake contained zero ounce of creativity—he knew this well. Maybe they’ll be mad at me because I can’t contribute anything worthwhile, he grunted, catching the ball with his racket. Might’ve been better just’ve turned them down.

But Dad doesn’t like it when I don’t follow through…

Can we take a break? Lana called, catching his serve