The Year I Was Starving, I Worked for Caleb

During the year I was genuinely starving, I worked for Caleb. I copied his notes all day in exchange for a single meal. Years later, after college, Caleb came to find me. "Two million dollars. Come here. You're going to be my fiancée." 01 Back in high school, my mom refused to give me any money. Not a single cent. She said if I was so stubborn about going to high school, I shouldn't be afraid of starving. But I went anyway, clutching the twenty dollars I had secretly saved up. I stretched that twenty dollars for half a month, living as frugally as possible. When the money ran out, I just drank water. Back then, our classroom didn't even have a water dispenser. I chugged cold, bottled water on an empty stomach. It was autumn, the weather was turning chilly, and it felt like my stomach was freezing over. I could hear the water sloshing in my stomach with every step. I went hungry for three days like that. At fourteen, starving for three days makes you want to take a bite out of a passing person. I was so hungry I even chewed on some grass by the sidewalk to see if it tasted like anything. When I was on the verge of passing out, Caleb was eating lunch next to me. I stared at him. He turned his head and met my gaze. I didn't move; I just stared blankly at his food. Caleb looked creeped out. He quietly asked if I wanted to eat with him. My eyes instantly lit up. "Can I?" He let out a breath of relief and nodded. "Eat! My mom packed way too much for me, I can't finish it anyway..." Later, Caleb told me that the look in my eyes didn't say "I want to eat your food"; it said "I want to eat you." He was so freaked out he felt like giving me his lunch was the only way to save his own life. For a long time, I basically worked for Caleb. I copied his notes during class and wiped down his desk during breaks. I didn't get much in exchange—one meal here, two meals there. He started bringing an extra portion of food for me every day. I'd split it between breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but I still wasn't full. So Caleb started sneaking me the snacks he brought: "This is beef jerky my mom brought back from her trip over the holidays. It should still be good." I took it and chewed, chewed, chewed. It was tough as leather. I kept chewing, chewing, chewing. "This is a mooncake from the Mid-Autumn Festival." I took it. It was the mixed nut flavor. Crunch, crunch, chew, chew, chew. "These are digestive enzyme tablets my mom bought." I hesitated for a second, then quickly tore the package open. Chew, chew, chew... Caleb would sneak me these things during class, and I would secretly eat them during class. Later, during a break, he stared at me wide-eyed. "You ate two whole boxes of digestive enzymes?!" "Yeah..." He looked completely exasperated. "Maya, I'm not going to end up accidentally killing you by feeding you, am I?" I didn't know if he would accidentally kill me, but I knew I was about to starve to death. 02 For a long time, I survived on the food Caleb brought me. Until Thanksgiving break. Initially, I wanted to go home for Thanksgiving. But the moment I got home, my mom grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and dragged me out the door. She wouldn't let me in. My mom said that for every day I went to high school, she wouldn't recognize me as her daughter. Other girls my age were already working in factories down South, but I was apparently too delicate for that. Since I thought I was so capable and refused to listen, I shouldn't rely on the family. I had to support myself from now on and shouldn't bother coming home. I sniffled, standing awkwardly at the door, clutching my backpack. The smell of roasted turkey drifted out from the house, while the front door remained wide open. My mom brought the turkey out, and my younger siblings scrambled to get a piece. My little sister, clutching a piece of turkey, glanced at me and got smacked by my mom. "Eat your food! What are you looking at her for!" My sister froze, sitting there obediently. I lowered my head. The dim light from the house stretched my shadow, making it look as dejected as I felt. Later, my mom locked the door. The light was gone. I hugged my backpack and walked away. I spent that night sleeping at the bus station. The next morning, I woke up and saw Caleb. He was supposed to be going on a trip with his parents. When he looked up at the ticket counter and saw me, he jumped. "What are you doing here?" "My mom wouldn't let me stay at home. It's warmer here at the station." "Holy shit. Is she your real mom?" "Yes." "..." Caleb didn't get on his bus that day. I don't know what he said to his parents, but he sent them off on their trip and stayed behind. After waving goodbye to them, he turned around, looked at me, and sighed. "Come on, let's go to my place." He walked ahead, and I hurriedly put on my backpack and followed him. Caleb was two years older than me, tall with long legs. For every step he took, I had to take three. After a few steps, he turned back and took my backpack from me. I looked up at him, and he laughed when he met my gaze. "Maya, I must have the worst luck in the world. How did I run into you? My parents were supposed to take me to the beach! And now I'm carrying your backpack." "I'm sorry." "Forget it, forget it. Are you hungry?" "Starving..." "Alright then. While your boy here still has some cash, let's go get some real food." 03 I stayed at Caleb's house for seven days. Caleb's house was nothing like mine. My family had four kids; the older ones cried, the younger ones fussed. Four kids crammed into one room, it was always a chaotic mess. He was an only child. The whole house was spotlessly clean and beautifully decorated. The neighborhood had landscaping, the building had an elevator, the apartment had a guest room, the balcony had plants. The only downside was the lack of food. I woke up starving in the middle of the night and couldn't find a single bite to eat. Not even a digestive enzyme tablet. Finally, I locked my eyes on the small orange tree on the balcony. I stared at the oranges for half an hour until Caleb walked past the balcony, saw me, and screamed: "!!! What the fuck, is that a ghost?!" I froze and turned to look at Caleb. He finally realized it was me. "No, wait, Maya, what are you doing squatting on the balcony? Oh! The oranges... if you want to eat them, just pick them!" Caleb was so scared he actually teared up that day. I cried too, hugging the orange, moved to tears. This orange was so good! So sweet. The next day, Caleb took me out to buy groceries and snacks, repeatedly warning me: "Maya, you are absolutely forbidden from squatting on the balcony in the middle of the night, in the dark, with your hair down, looking all creepy." I nodded vigorously, looking at him with deep gratitude. He paused when he met my gaze, and after a long moment, he chuckled. "Let's go! Time to go home." When we got back that day, I cooked. After cooking, I did my homework. After finishing my homework, I tutored Caleb. Caleb didn't care. He slouched there, looking at his notebook, barely listening. Later, he suddenly remembered something, grabbed my ID card, and asked, "Maya, you're in high school, why are you only 14?" I thought about it before explaining seriously. "I skipped grades when I was little. I didn't go to kindergarten; I went straight into first grade at six. After first grade, I transferred and went straight into third grade. So I'm two years younger than the rest of you." "Tsk, what was the rush?" "My parents said I could start working at 16. When I was little, I thought if I could just get into college before I turned 16, I wouldn't have to go work in a factory. But high school costs tuition, and my parents still want me to go work. They said it's not as strict outside as it is at home; as long as I go, I can earn money even at 14." "..." Caleb was silent for a long time that day. Later, he laughed out of sheer frustration: "Fourteen... your parents are really a piece of work." I had originally wanted to find a part-time job over Thanksgiving break, but since I wasn't 16, nobody would hire me. Finally, I found a gig putting up flyers. It paid forty bucks a day. Caleb had nothing to do, so he found a part-time job too: catching people putting up flyers. I worked for half a day, got caught by Caleb, and got lectured for the other half. When we finished, I got my forty bucks, and Caleb got sixty. I looked at my forty, then at his sixty. He raised an eyebrow and shoved his sixty into his pocket. I held my forty, hesitating for a moment, but finally gave it to him. "Caleb, let me buy you dinner." He froze. After a long moment, he took the forty bucks. We went to a small diner near his neighborhood. Two bowls of noodles, a plate of steamed dumplings, and a plate of steamed buns. It cost twenty bucks. I don't remember the rest; I just remember being very full that day. 04 Thanksgiving break bled into the weekend. I worked part-time for a total of six days. Excluding the day we ate out, I made a total of $220. The first day back at school was the happiest day for me because my financial aid came through. I scraped together a thousand dollars, counting the money over and over again. Then I went to borrow Caleb's phone. Caleb asked me what I was doing. "The tuition for my sophomore year was borrowed. I borrowed it from the older girl next door, and I need to pay her back." He looked confused: "How much can you pay back?" "Seven hundred and fifty." After paying back the money, I still had two hundred and fifty dollars left. That was enough for me to survive for a month. Next weekend, I could look for other part-time jobs. I finally caught my breath and even bought myself a new backpack. My old backpack was torn to shreds and tied together with knots. The new one was bought online for ten bucks. It was huge and could hold a lot. Caleb looked at me and sighed that day. He was my desk mate, and he still frequently brought me food. He said his mom cooked a lot, and bringing a little extra didn't hurt. Caleb was a very good person, and his mom was a very good person too. Because after we got back from Thanksgiving break, every meal Caleb brought me had a fried egg in it. The kind of fried egg that was perfectly cooked and sprinkled with little green onions. The following weekend, Caleb asked me: "Are you going home this weekend?" I shook my head. "My mom won't let me." "Perfect. Pack your stuff this afternoon; we're going to my place." "..." Our school had a strict schedule: class started at 6 AM and ended at 9 PM, six days a week. We only got Sunday off, starting from 5 PM on Saturday. As soon as school let out, I packed my bag and left with Caleb. I only found out when we got there that Caleb's cousin was getting married, and they were starting the preparations the night before. I helped out with Caleb that evening. After we finished, we had a big communal meal, and I slept in the same room as Caleb's younger cousin. I woke up in the middle of the night and found Caleb sitting in the living room playing video games. I walked closer. He saw me, locked his phone, and asked, "What's wrong?" "Why aren't you sleeping?" "Can't sleep..." "Why?" He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "My mom recently... she wants me to study abroad. She says my grades aren't good enough to get anywhere in the States." After he finished speaking, he looked down at his phone. I sensibly didn't press the issue, but when I went back to my room, I stared at the ceiling and couldn't help but think: When Caleb leaves, will I not be able to find anyone to eat with when I'm hungry? The next morning, we got up early to pick up the bride. I rode in a car with Caleb's cousin. It was a traditional, elegant wedding. The bride was radiant, her smile bright. I stared in awe. It wasn't until the bride's mother handed me a red envelope with a smile that I suddenly realized why Caleb brought me here. The little girl who helped pick up the bride got a hundred-dollar tip, plus a delicious meal. That day, Caleb was one of the groomsmen. Tall, long-legged, wearing a sharp suit—even his hair was styled to perfection. I chewed on some candy, watching him stand on the elevated platform. Later, he came down and waved at me. I ran over, and he stuffed a handful of chocolates into my hands. "Come on, come on, grab your backpack. Let's go backstage and raid the snacks..." He stopped mid-sentence, looking at me and laughing. "Who did your hair and makeup? This puffy dress, these two little space buns... you look like an anime character." "What anime character?" "A character from a game. I gotta say, it's pretty cute." I didn't understand, so I just opened a chocolate and chewed, chewed, chewed. 05 Caleb studied really hard for a while, but then gave up again. He was too lazy. I kept copying notes for him every day. I took my own notes during class, and copied his for him during breaks. Whenever I had a spare moment, I would gnaw on a piece of bread and read. I had several rolls stuffed in my desk drawer. I'd eat a little when I got hungry. It wasn't just me; in high school, everyone in the class got hungry easily. Breakfast was at 7 AM, and lunch wasn't until 12 PM. But we were growing kids, and many of us started getting hungry around 10 AM. The school cafeteria didn't make enough bread, so sometimes when I was eating, Caleb would ask for a piece. Then the guy in front of me would ask for a piece, and the girl behind me would ask for a piece. Eventually, it became a habit. I'd break off a piece, and the rest of the bread would get passed around the room. By the time it made a full circle and came back to me, it had transformed into a few pieces of beef jerky or half a bag of chips. Life in high school was incredibly busy. Busy writing essays, busy doing practice tests—the workbooks were never-ending. Time flew by. Soon after New Year's, my sophomore year ended. Even though it was time for the holidays, I still couldn't go home. I didn't want to hold a grudge against my mom, but I still wanted to go to school. Back then, I was young but a bit stubborn. I just felt that as long as I could go to school, my life wouldn't only be about working in a factory. I didn't go home for the holidays. Later, I found a factory rushing to meet a deadline that was short-staffed and willing to hire me. I worked twelve-hour shifts a day for fifty bucks. I worked for twenty days, and they paid me a thousand dollars. On New Year's Eve, the factory gave us the day off. Caleb came to pick me up on an electric scooter. We rode the scooter halfway across the city. The river on the outskirts was frozen solid. Some people were ice skating, others were setting off fireworks. Daytime fireworks aren't as bright, but they were still beautiful enough. We played for a long time until it got dark and all the shops closed. Caleb took me to his family's old estate for New Year's. His family was huge, with seventy or eighty people celebrating together. There were six tables for the New Year's Eve dinner. I blended in with the crowd. No one paid me any mind, and no one really noticed me. Later, when it was time to give New Year's greetings, the kids all knelt in a row, and Caleb pushed me down to kneel with them. The adults handed out red envelopes one by one, and they gave me one too. In the dimly lit courtyard, some people looked at me hesitantly, but they still gave me one. Later, I heard someone ask: "Why does that little girl look unfamiliar? Whose kid is she?" "Oh, her! Caleb brought her. Probably a cousin from his mom's side!" I was no cousin. My face flushed bright red. I ran over, clutching a handful of cash, and shoved it at Caleb. He had been trying to figure out how to light a firework and jumped when I approached him. "Maya, why are you giving me money?" "This is your family's New Year's money. I can't take it." Caleb shoved the money back into my coat pocket. "If they gave it to you, keep it. Step back, I'm gonna light this." First came the firecrackers, then the brilliant fireworks. Everyone gathered around. Caleb grabbed my collar and pulled me back a bit. "Maya, want to make a wish? The New Year is here." "I want to be number one in the school." "Idiot, you can't say your wish out loud." "Really? Let me make another one then." For the New Year, I want... I want it to be just like last year, happy and joyful... and I want Caleb not to leave. 06 In reality, people can only make one wish for the New Year. The second wish didn't come true. Caleb left during the summer after my sophomore year. I was working part-time at a convenience store that summer. He came in to buy a pack of cigarettes. I was shocked: "You smoke?" He looked confused: "Even though our class is all good students, you didn't actually think I was a good student, did you?" "..." Our class was one of the school's honors classes, and the rules were incredibly strict. To maintain the class's reputation, almost everyone was admitted based on merit, and Caleb was the only one placed in our class through connections. Caleb smoked outside the convenience store that day. I asked him if he had eaten. I was really good at heating up Jamaican patties; did he want one? He said sure. I heated one up for him, and he put out his cigarette. The patty was hot, so he tossed it back and forth between his hands. Later, when the patty cooled down a bit, he sat leisurely beside me, taking small bites. After finishing the patty, he elegantly wiped his mouth, then looked up: "Maya, how much was it?" I shook my head. "It's fine. It's on me." He laughed, then reached into his pocket and placed a hundred and sixty dollars on the counter. "Alright then. Thanks. But take this." I panicked. "I don't need this much." "Take it! I won't be seeing you again. Maya, goodbye!" Caleb said that and rode off on his electric scooter. I stared blankly at the money, taking a long time to process it. Caleb was really leaving. For a long time, I felt a little sad, probably because I knew no one would bring me food anymore. Nothing much happened during my junior year. I went to class and studied. Whenever I had free time, I looked for part-time jobs I could do. If I couldn't find any, I went to the library to do practice tests. As long as people can eat, they can survive. Occasionally, when I had time, I would look up. The city had planted many Mimosa trees, and their pink flowers drifted down like tassels. They smelled sweet. The laundry detergent Caleb's family used had that exact same scent. When you got close, it was a faint, sweet fragrance. 07 At the beginning of my senior year, I saw my mom. She wanted to take me back home, saying there was a family emergency and I had to go back. I didn't want to go back. I shook her off and stumbled my way to the homeroom teacher's office. The homeroom teacher stopped her and asked what the emergency was. I was a senior now; it wasn't a good time to take a leave of absence. In the end, my mom couldn't say anything and just glared at me viciously. Watching her walk away, I had an inexplicable, ominous premonition. A long time later, I realized why I felt something was wrong. During senior year, we had mandatory review classes during both winter and summer breaks, so I couldn't work part-time. The homeroom teacher applied for a school grant on top of my annual financial aid. The main benefit was free meals and waived tuition. I didn't leave the school grounds for an entire semester, and my mom didn't come looking for me. On the days of the college entrance exams, school buses took us to the various testing centers. After finishing the first exam, I walked out and saw my dad. He tried to grab me, but I fought him off with everything I had and hid in the testing center's security booth. I didn't eat lunch that day. I sat in the security booth for two hours, not daring to take a single step outside. I just sat there reading my books. It wasn't until the exams were over that day and the school bus came to pick me up that I finally let out a sigh of relief. The exams lasted for two days. When they were finally over, I felt like I was finally free. I just stared up at the sky. The sky was a clear, brilliant blue. There were a lot of people selling watermelon outside the testing center. I was so hungry I ate six slices. Later, on my way back to school, I saw my dad again. In my memory, I rarely saw my dad; he was always working out of town and only came back occasionally. He was a man of few words who rarely spoke. But I was terrified of him. He hit people way too hard. If my mom hit me, it was just because I was disobedient; when my dad hit me, it felt like he was genuinely trying to kill me. I wanted to run that day, but I couldn't get away. He grabbed me like a little chick and tossed me into his beat-up van. I screamed, and he slapped me. Passersby looked over, but he had already locked the car doors. The doors locked. I huddled in the car, timidly calling out, "Dad." My dad looked at me expressionlessly: "Behave." The car drove further and further away, winding through mountain roads. I forced a smile and asked: "Dad, where are we going?" "Didn't you refuse to work in a factory? I'm sending you off to get married." Married... I stared blankly out the car window. The car drove deep into the mountains; outside were dense, impenetrable woods. My parents were smart. Now that I had graduated high school, the school wouldn't care about me anymore. Even if I went missing, no one would call the police or bother looking for me because of my disappearance. That day, I asked a question I had wondered about for a long time: "Dad, am I your biological daughter?" "Yeah." "Then why don't you and Mom love me?" He spat in disgust: "Ungrateful brat. It wasn't easy for your mom and me to raise you. You have younger siblings at home. You're the oldest. If you don't get married, where are we going to get the money to feed and educate your siblings?" "I can make more money for you when I go to college." "Don't even think about it. Once you go to college, it's not even guaranteed you'll ever come back." When the car stopped that day, I was exceptionally obedient. I went into the house obediently, smiled obediently, and obediently let strangers evaluate me from head to toe. Later, someone gave my dad fifty thousand dollars.

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