The current chapter 14.1 in Cherry On Top is heavily modified from this chapter in the first rough draft. It is even in a different POV. I changed it because I wanted to have more focus on RJ in the story. The first draft had too much of a focus on Chloe and I wanted to balance it out.
---
Chloe
Miraculously, my body does not combust under RJ's kiss, and I manage to come out of the bathroom unscathed.
Mom has scooped a bowl of porridge for each of us and is adding cuts of fried dough onto them. She looks up as we scurry over to the dining table. "Kuài lái chī zǎo fàn, hái zǐ měn." ("Quick, come eat some breakfast, children!")
"Thank you, Mama." I quickly take over as she tries to sprinkle some salt and pepper. Her vision is deteriorating to the point that she would sometimes sprinkle over to the table. "Let me do it. Sit down and rest."
Mom smiles and stares at us. "Thank you, Chiarong. Also, Ruijun, I hope you don't mind century eggs. I made pork and century egg porridge."
"I don't... uh... I like." RJ shakes her hands and nods her head, giving off quite a mixed signal.
I can't help but chuckle. "Her Chinese is terrible, Mama, don't mind her," I say, giving RJ a cheeky smirk. She frowns at my teasing but is uncharacteristically flustered at the situation.
"Ah, I'm sorry," my mother apologizes. "I wish I could speak English better..."
"No, no, I speak," RJ insists. She points to the porridge and gives a thumbs-up. "I like."
Mom lets out a laugh at that. "What a pretty girl. How come you've never brought her over before?"
Pretty girl? I hope the heat in my face does not show. "We- We always study outside together."
Mom's eyes light up. "Oh, you two study together."
"She's very smart, Mama. Top of the class and everything."
"N- No..." RJ tries to protest, but her subpar Chinese skill is stopping her.
"Top of the class? Wow!" Mom jumps at the statement, just as I expected. "I'm so glad you're studying with Chiarong. This daughter of mine spends way too much time working, and not enough time studying." She proceeds to shake her head exaggeratedly.
I stick my lips out into a pout. "I do study! Right, RJ?"
RJ nods. "Auntie, no... worry. She study. I study with she. "
"Good, good!" The smile my mother is giving RJ cannot be bigger. "Please get her to study more, okay, Ruijun? Our Chiarong is such a workaholic. I keep telling her not to work, but she doesn't listen to me."
"Mama," I say with an exasperated sigh. "I told you, I will only quit my job once you get your surgery."
"And I told you that you don't have to worry about funding that." Mom is equally as exasperated with me. "I'll only do what we can afford. What I want for you is for you, my bǎo bèi nǚ ěr, to enjoy your youth. Study hard. Rest. Play. Hang out with friends."
My pout grows at her every sentence. "We can afford the surgery. I'll work hard until we can. And then, I'll study harder after that."
Shaking her head, Mom turns to RJ instead. "My daughter doesn't listen to me. Help me convince her to stop working, Ruijun."
RJ casts a hard glance at me, but replies in the most somber tone ever, "I will."
Just a few minutes in and RJ is already picking my mother's side. I glare at her and focus on eating my breakfast.
For the next half an hour, I refuse to help RJ as she flounders while bombarded with questions. My mother has always been chatty, and she grabs the opportunity to ask about school, and classes, and how I am doing in them. At some point, RJ admits that she's in the tennis club, prompting my mother to gush about Li Na, a famous Chinese tennis player. After that, the conversation somehow steers towards movies, and they bond over their love for Jackie Chan's movies.
It's remarkable how long two people can talk, even with one of them struggling to keep up with the language. Eating silently next to my mother and RJ, it almost feels like I'm the third wheel of this newfound relationship.
When we are all done with breakfast, Mom asks RJ about the porridge again.
"Oh, very good, very good," RJ says, pointing two thumbs out. "Auntie, you cooking good."
Mom is visibly pleased with the compliment. "My cooking skills are not as good as Chiarong's baking skills. Have you ever tried her cakes, RJ? It's really good."
RJ raises her eyebrows as she looks at me. "No, but I want."
I am afraid that they will start to talk about bakeries, and that RJ will accidentally reveal that I don't work in a bakery, so I stand up and start stacking the empty bowls on top of one another. "RJ and I will clean up! Mom, go rest!"
With that, I drag RJ into the kitchen.
RJ leans over the kitchen counter, watching me clean the dishes with a pair of amused eyes. "I get it now."
"Get what?"
"I get why you're so sweet, and why you're working so hard," she says. "Your mother is so sweet."
"She is, but she is also so naggy." I sigh. "But I guess all mothers are."
"She is right, by the way." RJ's expression turns solemn. "You shouldn't be working."
I glance at RJ and roll my eyes. "You're just saying that because you hate my job. I need to, RJ, I need to try as hard as I can, until we have enough money for my mom's surgery. And then I'll stop."
RJ turns around. Her eyes are dark and gloomy as she looks out of the kitchen. "You keep saying that, you keep saying you'll stop, but I've seen my parents. I know people don't stop once they reach a supposed goal. They'll just aim higher and higher and higher. My parents are already fucking rich, they already got everything they want, but they're still doing the most to get more. They'll stop at nothing." She lowers her voice. "They'll even sacrifice their children."
RJ's words pierce my heart. "RJ, I'm sorry," I say sincerely. "Maybe you should talk it out with your parents? Maybe... they'll be more open..."
"Nah. They're crazy."
"Don't say that. They're family, they must love you."
RJ snorts. "Well, whatever they're calling love, it's not doing it for me." She stuffs her hands into her pocket and continues, "And I mean it when I said I've been meaning to get away. It's what I've always wanted, even as a kid. Use them to get into an overseas university. I'll get a degree, get a job, and then break away from my family forever. They don't have influence beyond Asia so I'll just leave this entire continent."
She sees my dismal expression and adds a joke, "Except my brother. He's a good guy, and I'll still maintain my relationship with him. Plus, he's gonna get most of the inheritance anyway."
I cannot fathom how anyone can hate their parents so much they develop a plan like this. She has a clear goal in life, but it stems from an unhappy childhood; her experiences are the exact opposite of mine. The bowl in my hands feels heavier than usual.
"But now?" I probe. "You can't do all that if you run away from home now."
"Yeah, true. I'll have to change my plans. Gotta get to the end goal without going through university. It's fine, I'm working towards it."
"That's hard," I mutter. My heart has sunk to my stomach, and my mouth is coarse and dry. I feel so bad for RJ, in so many ways. Most of all, I know that it's not easy trying to earn money as a student, and I don't want RJ to have to deal with that.
Sensing the drastic shift in mood, RJ changes the topic. "What about you? What do you want to do in life?"
"I mean, doing whatever it takes to earn money." I realize just how similar to RJ's parents I must sound like, so I quickly add, "But- But it's just a short-term goal, I swear."
"What is your long-term goal then?"
My head hangs at the question. "I don't know," I admit. "I- I don't have time to think about it. I don't know what I truly want in life. I don't even know what I want to do after I graduate."
RJ stares at me for a long time, before whispering, "As long as you're happy."
My smile widens. "You're sounding like my mother now."
"Well, I want the same things for you that your mother wants." She notices that I am done cleaning the dishes, so she grabs my hand. "Come on, cheer up. Let's go out and do some girlfriend stuff."
I blink. "Like- Like what?"
"Your mom says you're great at baking. Let's bake something. I can
My heart soars. Ever since I quit my job at the bakery, I haven't had the chance to bake something. "Sure," I chirp. "Let's make some cupcakes."
"Perfect." RJ's smile grows as she pulls me to the living room. Mom is sitting on the couch and doing her daily recommended eye massages.
We bid a quick farewell before going to the nearest supermarket. Her hand never lets go of mine as we walk. Occasionally, people would give us weird glances, but RJ's confident and slightly frightening aura seems to shield them from me.
I wish I had her confidence; I wish I was this sure of myself, of my sexuality, of what I want in life. Unknowingly, I tighten my grasp around her hand. My heart drums against my chest as she notices—and squeezes my hand back, as if saying, "Fuck other people. We do what we want."
Hand in hand, we stroll around the grocery store and purchase all the ingredients for my signature cupcake recipe.
We spend the rest of our day baking (with RJ trying her best to not ruin my efforts). Mom is especially happy she gets to have some sweet treats. She laughs as she watches RJ and I spread whipped cream on each other's faces. I haven't heard her laugh this much in a while, and I haven't had this much fun in a while either. Without school and without work, I can just enjoy myself with the people I love.
For the first time in a long time, I'm enjoying life.
At night, RJ sneaks a bowl of extra icing into my bedroom, and we spend the rest of the night... eating it.