Chapter 8: 5.2

I bury my wet face in my hands as I slump onto the leather couch. The mask that I am required to wear at all times is thrown on the table. If anybody else were to walk in right now, I would definitely be fired.

As if reading my mind, RJ assures me, "Don't worry lah, I've got you covered. No one will see you."

She is sitting next to me, leaning forward just the right amount so her body blocks any line of sight from the door. I know that no one disturbs the VIP room unless there's a cry for help or a push of the emergency button, but I still appreciate her attempt to hide me.

My eyes trail down to her varsity jacket, and my cheeks burn at the blotch of dampness on her chest. I can't believe I spent ten minutes crying in her arms like a baby. The poor jacket must be so gross now.

"When... did you figure out?" I ask softly.

RJ averts her head from me. "It's super obvious lor. Your voice. The way you walk. Your face shape." There is a short pause. "Your lips."

My hands fly to my lips before they drop. "Oh... so obvious one ah?" I let out a nervous chuckle. I find myself pulling at the hem of my glittery dress. It is more than halfway up my thigh, and the more I pull, the shorter it seems to get. "Did you... Did you tell anybody?"

She snorts. "No. Do I look like a snitch?"

"N- No... but looks can be deceiving one, you know? I mean... you don't look like someone who would smoke weed."

"And you don't look like someone who would do a job like this."

I flinch at that comment, and RJ quickly adds, "Sorry." Her hand flies up, as though she wanted to place it on my shoulders, but it stops short, hovering awkwardly in the air instead. "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

My fists curl up more on my dress. I expected the shame that would come if I were ever found out by anybody in my life, but it still hurts a lot more than I imagined.

"You can think whatever you want about me for working here, but it's my life, okay?" I snap. "I need money, and this is the fastest way to get it."

RJ's frown deepens. "Why do you need the money?"

I frown as well. "Why do you want to know?" I remember Mango's assumption about my anonymous tipper, and I gasp. "Wait, you are the one who gave me that huge tip, right? Oh my god, RJ. Why are you doing this? Please don't do it again. And please don't come here again!"

"Why not? I want to come here. This is a great environment to do homework."

"This is not funny, RJ. If people see you coming here, what would they think?"

RJ slumps on the seat and spreads her arms out over the back of the couch. "Whatever lah. Fuck what other people think."

She said this yesterday too when Markus asked her about Jon. Does she really not care? Does she not worry that people will think that she's a... I recall the way Mango said the L-word in the afternoon, with so much disdain and vitriol, and I find myself recoiling at the memory. I don't want anybody to attack RJ like that, not when she is trying to help me.

"Please stop coming here, RJ," I whisper. "It will be... so bad for your reputation lah."

"Not really. At least I'm not, like, working here."

Again with the subtle shaming. I purse my lips. "What's wrong with you ah? You really hate that I'm working here? Yesterday, you were, like, glaring at the other guys all night lor."

"I wasn't glaring. I have a resting bitch face, that's all."

"I know your usual look. You were glaring."

"Fine." RJ sits up, staring at me with the same intense anger as she had yesterday. "I was glaring. I hate that you're working here, okay? I hate the customers here, I hate that you talk to people like Markus, and I hate that stupid American boss of yours. I hate that of all jobs out there in the world, you chose to work here. What the hell are you even thinking?"

I would have been scared stiff by her tone if not for the indignation welling inside me. "I told you already, I need the money," I retort. "This job may be risky but I need to risk it. But you, on the other hand," —I jab my finger at her.— "you have no reason to risk and come here lor."

"I do." RJ leans back on the couch. "I told you, this is a great environment to do homework."

"This is the most expensive place to do homework lah!"

"Good thing I can afford it."

"RJ, please! You're just wasting your parents' money, just pouring it down the drain!"

"Don't worry about my parents lah. There's literally nothing I can do to bankrupt them. And also, I'm not using their money. I'm working for Ms. Goh now." She nudges her head towards the table, where the folder of Chemistry questions sits in front of me. "If you want to help me earn some money, you can start by being my practice student."

My eyes dart from RJ to the cursed Chemistry worksheets. "What? You're working for Ms. Goh? Why?" If RJ needs to earn money for herself, the Southeast Asian economy must be crashing hard.

"For fun lah."

There is a slight twitch in her brows that makes me not believe that. I recall the huge wad of cash I received earlier in the day, and the dread in my heart grows. "Wait, are you... are you doing this for me?"

RJ rolls her eyes. "No lah, doing this for my resume. You think everything is about you ah?"

My cheeks burn at that accusation. "S- Sorry... Well, go teach someone else then. I'm the worst in Chemistry, you know? I'll be the hardest student to teach."

"It's okay. I like a challenge."

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"Teach someone else lah! Teach Jon! Or Logan?"

"Jon is too smart, Logan is too stupid. You will be the perfect middle ground for my first student."

I want to pull my hair out. Why is she insisting on doing this? It's like she wants to ruin her life. I am running out of ideas, so I turn to my last resort. "O- Okay, if- if you don't stop coming here, I'll- I'll snitch you out ah. I'll... tell Jon!"

RJ raises her eyebrows. There is a slight pause before she says, "Sure, go ahead."

My mouth drops before I slam it close into a pout. Why would she say that? How could she not care at all? Is she teasing me?

Ignoring my fluster, RJ continues, using her fingers to count the days, "I'm gonna be coming by every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, after my tennis practice. I already told your boss."

"No! Cancel it lah! If you come here again, I- I really will tell him one!"

"And I really don't care." RJ sits up one last time. She leans her elbows on her knees as she stares at me. "So can you just shut up and do the questions now? I paid for your time, right? I'm your customer, right?"

I groan. RJ is jeopardizing her reputation and wasting all her time and money, and for what? To help me? It's not worth it at all. But I know I cannot chase RJ away. At least not today.

Turning back to the table, I can't help but let out yet another loud groan. "Of all subjects to teach, you pick my worst."

"Oh, don't worry lah, after this, we're doing Econ. Then Math. And then if we have time, Physics." A small smirk creeps up RJ's lips. "I have five hours with you."

This is RJ's first genuine smile with me and it's about torturing me with school work. I am not sure if I should be happy or annoyed. I let out a frustrated sigh.

"Yeah lah, yeah lah... You win," I mutter.

RJ's smirk widens. "Of course lah, I always win."

---

Feb 5, 2014, Wednesday.

When the last bell rings, I begin stuffing my things into my bag as usual, while Emma and Adrian have their routine quarrel next to me. As I get ready to dash out of school, I notice RJ following Ms. Goh out of the classroom, carrying worksheets and chatting.

My eyes glance over to RJ's clique still hanging around the front of the classroom.

RJ and her friends comprise some of the most beautiful people in school, and also the best athletes the school has to offer. Audrey, the volleyball captain, is talking and chortling loudly with Logan, the baseball team's star pitcher. Next to the rowdy pair, Huimin and Jon are a lot milder. Huimin is wearing the same tennis varsity jacket as RJ, and she is chatting with Jon, one of the most popular basketball players in school.

All of them are gorgeous, sporty, and probably super-rich, and RJ fits right in with them. I think about RJ's good grades, and how all the teachers love her. I think about how picture-perfect her life looks. And I think about how different the other customers in Tropic Falls are from her—so sleazy and gross, but despite how sleazy and gross they are, it's still a huge scandal whenever they get found out. RJ's life would be wrecked if she continues to visit Tropic Falls.

I can't let that happen to her. I can risk my reputation working there, but she shouldn't risk hers. Especially if she's just there to help me. That's just not right...

"Are you not leaving for work, Chloe?" Emma asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah, I am." I zip my bag and place it on my desk. "Wait ah."

I am not sure how I find the courage, but I make my way toward Jon. He is streaming out of the classroom with the rest of the class, and I manage to scoot in front of him before he steps out.

"H- Hey, Jon."

Jon raises his eyebrows curiously, but he gives me a small smile. "Hey, Chloe. What's up?"

I have never spoken to him before, but he already seems like a decent guy. A decent, smart guy who would stop RJ from making more mistakes and ruining her life.

"Can I, uh, can I tell you something? About RJ?"

He frowns. "Uh, sure?"

I shuffle away from the door, peeking over my shoulders for his friends. "I, uh, I wanted to let you know... I saw RJ coming from a bar, um, a bar called Tropic Falls..." I remember that RJ's first visit was for buying weed from Markus and that Jon might already know about that, so I add, "I saw her yesterday night."

Jon's brows twitch at the last two words. "Oh." He clears his throat. "Okay? And?"

And? My cheeks heat up at his response. Of course Jon does not know what to do with this information. RJ is her own person, why did I think Jon could get her to stop visiting the bar? What am I thinking?

"N- Nothing lah. Just- Just thought you should know since you're her boyfriend... Well, sorry, forget I said anything, I'm sorry..."

With that, I bolt back to my desk, push past Huimin who was hovering close to the door, and grab my bag.

Emma and Adrian look like they want to ask me what's wrong, but I rush past them.

"Gotta go now, sorry!" I scream before running for the bus.

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