Chapter 3

Winnie's illness kept getting worse, and my parents were basically living at the hospital.

At first, they still remembered to top up my meal card every month.

By the time I was in my third year of middle school, Winnie had gotten several critical condition notices. My parents were so wrapped up in her that they completely forgot about me.

Every time I needed money for living expenses, I had to chase after them—and usually got a beating for it.

It wasn't that Mom was stingy; she couldn't get why, with Winnie in the hospital and on the brink of death, I would show up just to ask for money.

Mom thought I was cold-blooded and scolded, "Winnie's like this, and you still have the nerve to ask us for money?

"That's all you care about? I just gave you some, and you've already blown through it?

"Can't you be more mature?"

But what could I do? With no money, I'd scavenged through trash cans or shamelessly mooched off others for food and drinks.

I cried loudly in the hospital hall, "You haven't sent me any money in two months!

"Mom, I'm so hungry I've been scavenging through trash cans. I really can't go on like this. Please, just let me finish middle school. Once I graduate, I'll go get a job."

My parents cared a lot about saving face. As I made a scene, they couldn't stand the embarrassment and hurriedly shoved four hundred bucks into my hand.

With that four hundred, I managed to scrape by for two months.

Every day, I'd count on my fingers how much I could spend on food.

I hated bread, but for those two months, that was all I could afford.

The school's bread was one dollar each, and I could survive on four a day, with the homemade ketchup I'd snuck from Grandma's place over the summer.

Sometimes, my roommates would ask about it cautiously, and I'd just say I was on a diet—damn pride.

Yolanda and I weren't in the same class in middle school, and we didn't have lunch together. I was too embarrassed to go bother her and her friends at lunch.

Every now and then, if Yolanda bought some chicken legs or snacks, she'd always save me a bit. That was a real treat.

When my cravings got the best of me, I'd ask my roommates shamelessly, "Hey, what's that? Where did you guys get it? Is it tasty?"

The gorgeous, kind girls would always warmly invite me to have a taste.

I'd fake a refusal, saying, "Oh, I was just curious."

In the end, I just couldn't say no and took it.

By shamelessly bumming food off others, I managed to scrape by until winter break. I thought I'd already had it tough, but turned out, if I could take the pain, life would just keep dishing out more.

From the second half of my third year in middle school all the way through my first year of high school, my parents just disappeared from my life—gone without a trace, not leaving me a single cent.

And it was around then that weird pride of mine finally vanished too.

During winter break, Dad and Mom briefly came back for a few days to handle Grandma's funeral.

Grandma only had a son and a daughter. My aunt, Luna, had married and moved far away. She only came back for a few days for the funeral and took Lucas with her when she left.

That was Grandma's dying wish. She was worried about Lucas, afraid my parents would just ignore him.

At the time, my parents wanted Luna to take me with her too.

Luna was in a tough spot. All these years, with Winnie being sick, my parents were always strapped for cash. Lucas had basically been living at Luna's place, and my dad never gave her a single cent for it.

He said he'd pay her back later, but Luna knew she'd probably never see that money. Still, because of Grandma's last wish, she took Lucas in.

Luna's family wasn't well-off either, and she already had two kids at home. If she brought me back too, her husband would never agree.

Besides, we'd only seen each other a handful of times over the years, so we barely had any real connection.

Luna avoided my eyes, took Lucas by the hand, and left without looking back.

Back then, I didn't realize how serious things were. I just thought being alone might even be kind of nice.

By the time school started up again, I still couldn't get in touch with Dad. The two hundred dollars I got for Christmas barely kept me afloat for two months.

I asked everyone I could think of to help me reach my parents, but not a single person could get through to them.

I started to get anxious and called Luna, but she couldn't reach them either. Knowing how desperate I was, she quietly sent me a hundred dollars on the side.

A month later, I swallowed my pride and called her again. She sounded torn as she told me she was out of money herself.

After hanging up, I started checking out which of the school's trash cans were the least disgusting.

A day later, Luna suddenly sent me two hundred dollars. I accepted it instantly—didn't dare ask why.

When I tried to call her to say thanks, the call wouldn't go through, no matter what. I realized she'd blocked me.

Then I made a beeline for the cafeteria and ordered a sandwich set meal for four dollars. I ate while crying, not leaving a single drop of sauce on the plate.

Before that, I'd gone a whole week without a proper meal, just mooching off whatever scraps my classmates and friends would give me.

The cafeteria ladies probably knew me by now. After all, not many people lived on bread every day, and even fewer couldn't even afford it.

I finished the whole sandwich set meal in under five minutes. A cafeteria lady barked at me to hurry up and return the plate.

I rushed to hand it over. I'd come in late, probably making them stay past closing time.

The lady took my plate and, without hesitation, scooped me another set meal, this time piling it high with meat.

That day, I polished off three plates in total. I never realized I could eat that much.

That lady didn't ask me to pay, and honestly, I couldn't have if she had.

From that day on, the cafeteria ladies and I had an unspoken agreement. I'd show up right before the cafeteria closed to buy two loaves of bread, and the lady'd pile up a plate with all the leftovers and hand it to me.

There were lots of cafeteria ladies, and since they all wore masks, I couldn't tell if it was the same person behind the counter each time or not.

But every time I lingered by the window, they'd slip me a plate piled high with food.