Chapter 7: 5.1 | Chemistry Lessons at a Bar

Chloe

Feb 4, 2014, Tuesday.

Yesterday was a weird day, and today is a terrible one.

First, it escaped my mind that we have Chemistry homework due over the holidays. I couldn't finish it this morning, so I didn't turn it in. Assigning homework over a holiday as sacred as Chinese New Year should really be banned.

My lack of sleep also did not help me stay awake in class. I kept dozing off, and Emma had to shake me awake so many times. I had trouble paying attention to our conversations too, with my mind constantly drifting off. Displeasure exuded from her for the rest of the day, but there was nothing I could do. I'm just so tired.

To make matters worse, Ms. Goh noticed all that and called me to her office. She gave me a long lecture about how I need to focus on school, how school should come first for me as a student, how my grades in Junior College matter the most for getting into a good university, etcetera, etcetera. It's not like I don't know all that. I know, I really do, but I can't care about it yet. I can't afford to.

And of course, RJ had to be in the room right before that happened. She is Ms. Goh's, and every other teacher's, favorite student. And which teacher wouldn't like her? She has stellar grades, pays full attention in class, helps out in collecting homework, and is absolutely gorgeous. Okay, that last point may not be relevant. They like her so much they didn't even reprimand her for her obviously-dyed brown hair, which is not allowed in our school's dress code—a common rule in Singaporean schools.

I let out a frustrated sigh as I rush towards Tropic Falls. When I enter the changing room, I find Clementine perched on the makeup table. She is wearing a short sparkling blue dress a shade darker than her hair.

"Oh, Clementine, hey," I say with a frown. My boss rarely enters the changing room, so I am not sure what to feel about this situation.

"Cherry!" Clementine jumps off the table and saunters to me. She places a hand on my shoulder as her lips tug into a smirk. "So, I have good news and bad news, which do you want to hear first?"

"Uh..." I scan the room, noticing that Mango is the only other person here. She is eyeing us curiously as well; she does not know what is happening either. "G- Good news?"

The smile on Clementine's face widens. "Alright." She takes out an envelope—a bulging, fat envelope. "My favorite new girl has done it again! An anonymous customer gave you a big tip."

"Oh?"

I take the envelope and open it—and my mouth drops. That is the biggest amount of cash I have ever seen stacked together. A wave of emotions hit me: shock, confusion, relief, and then... happiness. My mind does a quick calculation and I let out a trembling gasp. A big step closer to the goal.

"You earned it." Clementine winks. "Keep up the good work, Cherry."

"T- Thank you, Clementine, I... This is..." I do not know what else to say. I shake my head as I tuck the money in my bag with trembling hands. "Thank you so, so much. So what's the bad news?"

"The bad news is that you're fully booked for the entire rest of the day, all the way till closing." Clementine gives my shoulder a few taps before walking out. "If you're feeling hungry, better eat something now. You'll barely have the time to even pee for the rest of the day. You have twenty minutes to prepare. Chop-chop."

I almost want to groan out loud, but the heavy envelope in my bag stops me. It's good that I am busy at work—there are more tips to be earned, more chances to inch closer to the goal.

When Clementine leaves, I spin around excitedly to my colleague. The squeal that was in my throat dies the moment I see Mango's face.

"What the hell?" the blonde girl spits, glaring at me with an expression that sends a shiver down my spine. "An anonymous tip? Was it from the big group we did together yesterday? But you didn't even do anything lor! Why you get tips but not me?"

I have never seen Mango this angry before, and it takes me a while to find my voice again. "But- But if it's from that group, Markus is your regular, right? You also got tips from him, right?"

Mango does not reply. Instead, she stands up so fast that her chair clatters onto the ground.

"What magic you do sia," she snaps, "didn't even smoke, didn't even drink, but then got a big fat tip just 'cause a lesbian likes you."

That word and the way she said it—so full of vitriol and disgust—strikes me like a bolt of lightning.

"She's- She's not—" I try to defend RJ, but Mango shoves me out of the way and slams the door on the way out.

The straps of my bag dig into my shoulders as the wad of cash inside turns into stones.

---

Five more hours of work.

Trotting down the corridor, I press my mask closer to my face and give my hair a quick brush with my fingers. VIP room five. It is the smallest VIP lounge we have, and the customer has the room—and me—booked for five hours, all the way till the bar closes.

I suppress a sigh. These long sessions are always very draining; it is hard to keep the same group of people entertained for such a lengthy period. I wonder if it is another one of the business meetings people have or another group of Markus' customers.

I push open the door, with a smile on my face and a high-pitched voice for my usual greeting. "Welcome to Tropic..."

My smile falters and my voice trails off.

The customer is RJ.

Wait, why is she here again?

This time, she is not wearing anything fancy. Instead, she is sprawled on the leather couch with baggy, grey Nike sweatpants, and an oversized varsity jacket with the letter 'H' on it. Our school's logo. She does not have any makeup on, and her hair is damp, making it appear a lot darker than normal. Next to her are her school bag and a tennis racket duffel.

I know RJ is part of the tennis club. Did she... come to the bar right after her tennis practice? What on earth?

"H- Hey, RJ, welcome back!" I try to mask my concern. "Um, are you here for Markus again? The stuff you bought yesterday not enough ah?"

RJ glances at me. Her usual intensity is reduced; she looks drained and exhausted. "Hey. Can you get me something to drink?" Rubbing her eyes, she quickly adds, "Non-alcoholic. Coke or something?"

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"Oh, yeah, s- sure!" I say before leaving the room.

From last night's martini, wine, and weed, to just a regular soda? From a fierce and commanding woman wearing the most beautiful jumpsuit to a tired teen athlete in sweatpants who came straight out of a shower? Today's RJ is a world of a difference away from yesterday's.

And why is she even here? Again?

I come back to the room with a can of coke and a glass of ice. RJ nods appreciatively. She ignores the glass and proceeds to chug the drink—the entire thing, down to the last sip—in a couple of seconds.

"Thanks," she says as she tosses the empty can into the trash bin across the room. It lands inside perfectly—she's not even a basketball player.

"Is that... all?" I probe. It's not that I want her to be drunk on two consecutive weekday nights, but who comes to a bar and does not get any alcoholic drinks?

"For now. Come here, Cherry. Sit next to me."

My code name sounds so strange when RJ says it. Strange, but also strangely sweet. I remember how annoyed she got last night when I sat at a distance from her, so I settle right next to her. The floral scent of her shampoo is very strong at this proximity.

She rummages through her bag and takes out an iPad, as well as a folder of notes. Chemistry notes.

Huh?

"These are extra questions for Chemistry remedial class. Help me test it out, 'kay?" She swipes at her iPad, opening up a familiar set of lecture notes. "You can refer to the notes as you answer, and if you get stuck, just ask me."

I blink. What in the crazy rich Asians' world is going on here? Why is RJ asking me to do Chemistry remedial questions? She doesn't even need remedial lessons.

I force out a laugh and attempt to maintain my older, legal-age persona. "Oh, I cannot lah, chiobu. It- It's been so long since I last took a Chemistry class, I forgot everything liao."

RJ raises her eyebrows. "Hm," is all she says to my weak lie. She pushes the folder towards me and taps on it. "Just try lah."

Reluctantly, I flip open the binder.

1. Arrange these elements in the order of increasing ionization energy.

My back slumps as I feel my mind crumbling. What even is ionization energy?

"I- I don't think I can do this..." I mutter.

"Why not?" RJ frowns. She scoots closer towards me and leans over my shoulder. Her chest presses on my back, while her breath tickles my neck. "Which question? Question one? Ionization energy?"

My body is heating up, but I manage a nod. "I don't understand."

"Which part?"

"Everything." My voice is now a soft whimper. I want to run away, but RJ's body is still pushed against me, caging me here, keeping me trapped. "I don't understand everything."

"Okay, no problem. Let's break it down, okay? First, let's recap about ionization energy." RJ reaches for the iPad. Her arm squishes on top of mine as she swipes on the screen to the relevant part of the lecture notes. "Here. Read this."

"I don't get it."

"You didn't even read."

"I won't get it one lah."

"I'll help you get it. Read."

By then, I have had enough. I am stressed on so many levels. My worst subject is staring in front of me, and my strangest customer is weighing down on me. I'm tired from school, tired from work, tired from life. Emma is annoyed at me, Mango is pissed at me, Ms. Goh is disappointed in me, Māma is worrying me, and R-freaking-J is sending my head to spirals with her intoxicating scent and soft skin and low voice...

"Why are you doing this?" I yell, pushing RJ away. She lands on the floor with a thud. "Why are you even here? You're not even dressed properly lah! You're not even supposed to be here!"

RJ stares up at me with widened eyes. "Oh, sorry. I didn't have time to change—"

"Because you came straight from your CCA! You're still wearing the school's tennis jacket sia! Why? Why come here, and then book a room for five hours, and then ask for me, and then do these stupid remedial Chemistry questions?" The more I scream, the more my eyes turn hot. RJ is now a watery blur. "Why, RJ? Why are you here?"

I break into a sob. My shoulders heave uncontrollably as I let my stress pour out of my body.

A napkin dabs my face, wiping my tears away from under my masquerade mask. My stupid mask.

Stupid, useless mask.

"You know who I am already, right?" I whisper.

The voice that replies is soft and somber. "I just want to help, Chloe."

Hearing my actual name, I collapse into RJ's arms and continue to sob.

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