When Chloe moved into my house, my mom split her love in half. Chloe took the lion's share, and I got the scraps. "You still have a dad, but Chloe has no one." So she justified her blatant favoritism. Later, I stopped wanting my mom. Unlike my mom, I couldn't divide my love. I gave all my love to my new mom. 1 My mom said she couldn't attend my parent-teacher conference. "Why?" My voice was thick with unshed tears. "Didn't you promise?" Over the phone, her voice was cold: "Just because I promised doesn't mean I have to go. Chloe's homeroom teacher called; I have to go to hers, and it conflicts with yours." "Chloe, Chloe, Chloe!" I finally lost control, yelling into the phone. "All you see is Chloe! You haven't been to my parent-teacher conference in three years!" Three years. From middle school to high school. The high school entrance exams were fast approaching! My mom hadn't attended a single parent-teacher conference during my middle school years. This time, my usually gentle homeroom teacher had a serious expression: "Maya, you must have your mother come this time. With the entrance exams only a hundred days away, your grades have dropped too much." I had told my mom about this five days in advance. I thought she would care at least a little. But once again, she chose Chloe. On the other end of the line, my mom's voice was full of coldness and impatience: "Maya, Chloe has no parents. Are you really going to fight her for her aunt? Why are you so ungrateful?" "But..." Tears welled in my eyes, and my throat tightened so much I couldn't speak. But, Chloe's aunt... is my mother! I didn't cause Chloe to lose her parents, so why do I have to give my mother to her as compensation? When I handed the phone back to the bookstore owner, he looked at me with a strange expression. I handed him a dollar. I had two hundred dollars left in my pocket. I had saved it up over months of skipping breakfast, originally planning to buy test prep books. Thankfully, I had asked my mom a day in advance, giving me time to prepare. I was going to use this two hundred dollars to hire a mom to attend my parent-teacher conference. 2 The mom I hired didn't look like a good person. She wore heavy smoky makeup, leaned against the school's iron fence counting the money, and reeked of cheap perfume. Even as the Dean of Students walked by, she was still grumbling, "All these small bills? This is so annoying." I had saved this money dollar by dollar; of course, it was in small bills. I thought she was unreliable and was about to ask for the money back and find someone else. But she quickly backed away to a safe distance and waved the wad of cash: "It's a deal! Tomorrow afternoon, third period! I'll come find you! "Room 308, right?" "Don't wear that makeup tomorrow!" Too unreliable. That was my two hundred dollars! Maybe I should try to find someone else? But she had already run off. I wanted to call out to her, but the Dean was walking toward me— He spotted the money in the woman's hand and asked with concern, "Student, are you being extorted by someone from outside the school?" "No, no," I answered quickly. "That's my mom. She was going to give me some pocket money, but I said no." Good thing she ran fast. 3 "Your name is Sarah Smith," I told her to put it in her phone's notes app. "My name is Riley Jones," she said, blinking her large eyes. She was dressed just like yesterday: exaggerated smoky makeup, pale foundation, a brown leather jacket, and the same cheap perfume. Only when her thick, fan-like fake eyelashes fluttered could I catch a glimpse of her beautiful eyes. But that look didn't move me. "My mom's name is Sarah Smith, so your name is Sarah Smith." I mimicked my mom's tone when haggling at the grocery store. "Be professional. Didn't I tell you yesterday not to dress like this?" "I have to dress like this," she mumbled. A moment later, she smiled and said, "Take me to your classroom. Room 308, right?" On the way, she wouldn't stop talking. "Will your homeroom teacher keep me after to lecture me? I'm telling you, the two hundred bucks doesn't cover getting lectured." "You didn't say that earlier!" I stopped in the hallway. "That's the going rate, okay?" she said impatiently. "Ugh, fine! Consider it a freebie! "Consider it my charity work for the day, okay?" She had a very casual, street-smart attitude: "Don't be so fierce, kid." I wasn't being fierce. I was just a little anxious. She didn't know that the two hundred dollars was all the money I had. I had to skip lunch to save up for the test prep books. If she charged more, I'd have to skip dinner too. But her sudden generosity made me breathe a sigh of relief. Standing at the classroom door, I awkwardly mumbled, "Thanks." "Hey, don't mention it." She waved her hand and was about to walk in. But I suddenly remembered something— "Um... Riley," I called out to her. "Yeah?" My face flushed slightly: "Could you do me one more favor?" She gave me a look that said "don't push your luck." But I guess my desperation overrode my shame, and once the words were out, the rest flowed easily: "There are two students in my class, one named Jason and one named Lily. "Could you talk to them and their parents? Just say you're my mom, you know what they've been doing to me, and if they dare do it again, you won't let them off easy..." "Fuck!" Riley cursed. I didn't know why she was swearing. "Is this extra? How much? Let me think..." Before I could finish my sentence. "You're being bullied?" Her face darkened. With a wave of her hand, she marched into the classroom: "This service is free of charge!" 4 Riley was not professional at all. During the parent-teacher conference, all the students waited outside. I watched Riley rummage through my desk through the window. The teacher glanced at her a few times, but she just scowled and flipped through my books and notebooks, ignoring everything going on around her. The more she flipped, the heavier the hostility in her expression grew. I questioned myself again whether hiring her to play my mom was a mistake. This doubt reached its peak when Mia, from the class next door, walked out. The "hire-a-parent" service was actually introduced to me by Mia. She was the slacker of the class next door, but her parents were very strict. Terrified of them scolding her after the conference, she hired someone to go in their place. To avoid being caught, she even left the "fake parent's" phone number with the teacher. She peered through the glass at my seat: "That's who you hired? Look at her, what, fifty or sixty bucks tops?" Fifty or sixty? I stood frozen. "Don't tell me you gave her a hundred!" Mia exclaimed. "I paid 80, and that included answering phone calls from the teacher!" Me: "..." 5 The parent-teacher conference ended. Before Riley rushed to confront Jason and Lily, I thought to myself: I need to get at least a hundred dollars back. But when she found those two students' parents to reason with them, I realized eighty dollars would have been enough. Especially Jason's dad, a large, burly man who tried to argue back. But Riley quickly shut him down, brandishing my textbook and attacking him with sharp, pointed words... The classroom was chaotic, and her loud voice drew a crowd of onlookers. The two parents, feeling embarrassed, grabbed their kids and ran. Riley walked out of the classroom looking victorious. "Wait, the teacher will probably want to see us in a minute. Leave after everything is done," I told her. I didn't ask for a partial refund right away. I wasn't stupid. If I asked for the money back now, what if she refused to cooperate when the teacher wanted a one-on-one chat? "Those parents will definitely lecture them when they get home." The homeroom teacher was surrounded by parents at the podium and didn't have time for her, so she stood in the hallway chatting with me: "But they'll definitely hold a grudge, and they might try to bully you again. Do you want to hire me to scare them a few more times?" she eagerly pitched her services. "Only thirty dollars a pop." I recalled her fierce demeanor just now. Jason and Lily were definitely intimidated by her. I highly doubted they'd try to bully me again. She probably just wanted to squeeze more money out of me. I knew what she was doing, but to ensure she performed well shortly, I nodded in agreement. "Hey!" she snapped her fingers. "Told you I'm high quality and reasonably priced, right?" "High quality and reasonably priced" my foot! We didn't have to wait long. Soon, the homeroom teacher came out of the classroom. Seeing Riley, she frowned first, then asked: "Maya's parent?" She stood up straight in a second: "Yes, teacher! I'm Sarah Smith!" The homeroom teacher gave her a strange look: "Come to the office. We need to talk about Maya." "You got it!" Riley happily trotted into the classroom and brought out my books and notebooks— 6 I actually had a vague idea of what Riley was going to say to the homeroom teacher. I was even a little expectant. "Maya's parent, a child's education isn't just the school's responsibility. Since Maya joined our class, I've never seen you. I understand you're busy—" She glanced at Riley's attire. "But, the child's grades have dropped severely, from the top ten in her grade to past the top hundred. Don't you care at all about what's going on with her?" Riley shrugged. Thinking she was being defiant, the homeroom teacher was about to say more. But Riley spread open my textbooks: "I probably don't care enough about Maya. But her drop in grades has nothing to do with that." The teacher stared at her, seemingly shocked that a parent could be so irresponsible. But Riley tapped her finger on the pages: "Teacher, did Maya talk to you? "About her being bullied?" Those were the most disgusting pages among all the scribbled-on books. In the margins, between the formulas, it was filled with vile insults— [Bitch!] [Who are you trying to seduce?] [Do you have no shame?] Riley read them out loud, one by one: "This is just one page. Teacher, did Maya show you these? "Being insulted like this, how could she not have a mental breakdown? How could it not affect her studies? How strong a heart would it take to endure this? "Don't tell me you didn't notice?" The homeroom teacher hadn't noticed. When I sought her out, when I told her I was being verbally humiliated and bullied... I showed her the pages, and she looked at them. But she just casually said: "Okay, okay, I'll talk to them later. I'm so busy. Can't you just get along with your classmates? Why is there so much drama?" Now, she was left speechless by the questioning. It took her a long time to ask: "You... you just now..." It turned out she had also seen Riley confronting the two parents for an explanation. But Riley ignored her response. "Yes, earlier I did what a mother is supposed to do. "And you, teacher? Have you done what a teacher is supposed to do? "Teacher, if you had, you wouldn't have had to specifically ask to speak with me. "She would have adjusted her mindset herself, and might even be first in the school right now!" 7 After leaving the teacher's office, I was still hesitating whether to ask for some of the money back. She did a great job, better than I imagined. But it was too expensive. A hundred dollars would make my life much easier for the next few days. She walked forward with her head down, mumbling to herself, completely oblivious to my inner struggle. "Your books are ruined, just buy a new set. They wouldn't dare draw on your books again. "What kind of weirdo is your homeroom teacher? She really doesn't care at all? How is she even a homeroom teacher?" I didn't answer. Actually, the homeroom teacher didn't completely ignore everyone. She had intervened when other students were bullied before. Otherwise, I wouldn't have sought her help when I first started getting bullied. Later, after I pestered her several times, she finally agreed to help resolve the issue. But the ultimate solution was just vaguely criticizing the behavior in front of the class without naming names. As soon as that class meeting ended, Lily cornered me in the restroom and even got physical: "You little bitch! You told the teacher, huh?" Later, I wondered why the homeroom teacher would extend a helping hand to others but was so impatient with me. After thinking about it, I figured it was because my grades had dropped too much, and she didn't like me. Also... she had asked to see my parents multiple times, but they never showed up. So, subconsciously, she probably realized I was a child no one cared about. A child whose own parents didn't care about. She had no obligation to care either. "By the way," Riley suddenly asked me, "has your mom really never been to a parent-teacher conference? Is she dead?" I didn't have time to answer. Because the next moment, someone grabbed my sleeve. "Maya." Chloe revealed a gloating smile. "Who is she? Why are you walking with someone dressed like a delinquent? "And why isn't she scolding you for saying your aunt is dead?" 8 Slap— A sharp pain exploded on my cheek, instantly turning it burning hot. My ears rang. My mom did manual labor, and she was strong. It took me a long time to recover from that slap. "Auntie," Chloe called softly. "Chloe, don't stop me." My mom yanked me so hard I stumbled. She looked at the homeroom teacher, an apologetic smile on her face: "I'm so sorry, teacher. This child has been a handful since she was little. I didn't expect her to hang out with people outside of school, let alone have the nerve to bother you." "What are you doing?!" Riley reacted and tried to stop her. But before she could get close, my mom shoved her away. Riley's frame was too small. No matter how sharp her words were, they were useless against a "mature" woman like my mom, who resorted to vulgar curses and low blows. My mom cursed her out, then pointed at her: "I'm disciplining my own daughter! Is it your place to interfere? Just you wait, I'm calling the cops right now and pressing fraud charges! How much money did you scam out of Maya?" She glared at me again: "Where did you get the money? You have spare cash? Everyone in the family is strapped for cash, and you have money to hire someone to play your parent?! "Where did you get the money? Have you been doing shameless things?!" I couldn't bear to listen anymore. I hadn't cried from her slap just now, but seeing Chloe standing nearby with her arms crossed, looking at me with a detached, mocking gaze, I finally couldn't hold back my tears. I felt ashamed. My mother was using the ugliest words to insult me. While the spoiled girl she doted on stood aside, watching me—her closest blood relative—being treated like I meant absolutely nothing to her. Just a moment ago, they figured out Riley was hired by me. My mom dragged me all the way from the hallway to the homeroom teacher's office. During that time, Riley couldn't help but laugh out loud: "So your mom isn't dead!" My mom became even more furious. She clamored about calling the police, wanting to throw Riley in jail! "Call them!" Riley yelled back. "Call the cops and let them see! You're a mother who doesn't even know her own child is being bullied at school! A teacher who turns a blind eye to toxic behavior in the classroom! What a great role model! "I earned this two hundred dollars with my labor! I suffered emotional trauma! I was disgusted by you people! "What? You act like you're dead and refuse to attend your daughter's parent-teacher conference, and you won't even let her hire someone to do it?!" The homeroom teacher quickly said there was no need to call the police. "Maya! Look what kind of friends you make! How can she talk to your aunt like that?" When the argument was at its fiercest, Chloe shouted loudly, trying to shift the focus back to me. And my mom, predictably, gave her exactly what she wanted. "She cares? How could she care? Those words are probably what she wanted to say!" My mom snapped her head toward me and grabbed my hair tightly. "Others don't get bullied, only you get bullied, right? "Why are you the only one causing so much trouble? "Chloe and you go to the same school, she's even a grade below you. Why doesn't Chloe get bullied, only you? "You hang out with these lowlifes in society, of course you get bullied! Why should the teacher care about you? It's up to you to be good at school. Does the teacher owe you?" "You motherf—!" Riley interrupted from the side. "You have time to attend your niece's parent-teacher conference, but no time for your daughter's, right? "Could this niece be your illegitimate daughter?" she lunged forward, trying to free my hair. "Let go, let go of her, you bitch!" Initially, I felt complete despair. When my mom called me a worthless person. When she demanded to know why others only bullied me. When even the homeroom teacher looked at me with pity. But, the moment Riley lunged forward and pulled my hair outward, for some unknown reason, I felt a surge of strength... It felt like... all the pent-up resentment of years finally found an outlet... With one hand, I shoved my mom hard just as she was about to slap Riley. Despite her strong build, my mom stumbled backward. "Auntie!" Chloe moved to support her. "Enough!!" My scalp throbbed with pain. I screamed with all my might. "What do you want to do? Keep making a scene! Keep going! Make a scene until security comes! Call the police right now!" "Are you crazy?" My mom was stunned by my roar. No wonder. She had seen countless versions of me. The gloomy me, the insecure me, the me begging for just a tiny bit of motherly love. But the stubborn, loud, rebellious me had disappeared long ago, right after Chloe moved into our house. The classroom fell silent. The look my mom gave me was a mix of shock and grievance. What did she have to feel aggrieved about? My heart ached, and I spoke hoarsely through tears: "You just asked me why they don't bully anyone else, only me? "Mom, it's all thanks to you. "Do you remember when I asked you to help me buy a bra? "Do you remember what you said?" 9 I had an unfortunate nickname: "Bunny." And it didn't mean cute and cuddly like a real bunny. It referred to the "bunnies" bouncing up and down on my chest when I ran. The first time I felt insecure about my chest was during a P.E. class. The gym teacher had us run the 800 meters. I was in the last group to run. By the time I started running, the finish line was already crowded with my classmates. My eyes were only fixed on the finish line, so I didn't pay attention to the classmates standing there—both boys and girls—who were already laughing uncontrollably. Before I even caught my breath, Jason, whom I rarely interacted with, came right up to my face, making exaggerated gestures: "Maya, let me give you a nickname. How about 'Bunny'?! "You know, the 'bunnies' jumping up and down when you run!" At first, I didn't understand, but his gaze drifted downwards, slimy and gross. Other classmates burst into jeering laughter. Like a flash of lightning, I instantly realized what he was talking about and shoved him hard. The bullying initially started with this simple nickname. The next day, my desk was covered in scribbles. In the quiet classroom before class started, I stood up, scanned the room, and saw Lily staring at me self-righteously, her gaze meeting mine head-on... My desk mate, Emma, gently tugged my sleeve and whispered: "Lily wrote it. Everyone saw, but no one dared to say anything. "I heard she and Jason are dating, and she said you were seducing him when you were running yesterday. "But seriously, you should wear a bra!" If her first sentence left me feeling baffled, her next sentence left me mortified. "I... I am wearing one!" I explained. "That's a training bra!" she whispered even lower. "I mean a real bra! A training bra can't support you! Didn't your mom teach you any of this?" "I..." My face turned even redder. "I'll try..." Actually, who notices physical development earlier than oneself? I had noticed a long time ago that my training bra was feeling a bit tight. I nervously told my mom, asking her to buy me a bra with padding. But as soon as I finished speaking, she frowned and said fiercely: "Money, money, money! We only have so much money, raising the two of you. You don't know how to be frugal. Do you want us to starve?" But it was only ten dollars. A bra at the wholesale market cost ten dollars at most. And my mom said "raising the two of you," but I hadn't had an allowance outside of lunch money for half a year. Before Chloe came, I got ten dollars a week for allowance. I could at least buy some snacks or something. That wasn't a problem. After Chloe arrived, it was as if my mom forgot about me. She would buy Chloe pretty clothes and sign her up for extracurricular activities... I used to have extracurriculars too. But the month Chloe was signed up for hers, my dad's paycheck happened to be a little short. "Maya, I feel like your swimming class isn't doing much. Let's pause it for a bit, okay? "Yield to Chloe a little," she said. "Chloe just came to our family, just consider it being considerate of mom. It's not easy for mom either." But I never thought that this "yielding" would last for three whole years. From the tutoring classes at first, to my bedroom, to my home, and finally, even the money for my bra had to be yielded. My mom didn't take me to buy a new bra. So, I figured out how to save money from my breakfast allowance to go buy a bra myself. The owner at the wholesale market wouldn't let me try it on, and I had no experience haggling. The bra I bought was a bit small. When I went back to the seller, she refused to exchange it. But it was fine, it was much better than the training bra I had before. However, after wearing it for three years, the straps inevitably became loose, and it couldn't keep up with my developing body. I thought it was time for a new one. But I never expected that I had already reached the point where I needed to wear a real bra.
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