Rent a Boyfriend

by Gloria Chao

  I’ll look at the calendar. Bye-bye!

  January 13

  Jing-Jing? Eh, did you know not to pick up this call because it would be a tough conversation? Well, good instincts. Don’t get mad, okay?

  I’ve been thinking, and I just want to make sure you keep Andrew. See? That’s a good thing. I’m on your side now about him. So with that in mind… you were looking a bit chunky last time I saw you. Are you getting enough exercise? Now that you’re in a relationship, it’s even more important you maintain yourself. Putting on foundation, eyeliner, mascara—that’s a politeness normally, but even more important to do for your boyfriend. I only pushed it a little before, but now it’s time, Jing-Jing. You need to become more of a woman. Makeup is your friend. It helps plain girls look pretty—glamorous, even! I know I already gave you the tuition check, but maybe you can take some of it to pay for some makeup classes? And once you lose the weight, we’ll talk about some new clothes and underwear—underwear for show only, for when you bend over and your pants accidentally fall too low! No hanky-panky!

  Okay, that’s plenty for now! I’ll save the rest for another time when you’re actually there! Maybe we can video-call soon.

  Don’t be mad! It’s all for you! And Andrew! I’m just trying to help! You know me, always putting you first, Jing-Jing!

  Chloe CHAPTER 57

  PURGATORY

  January 13

  My mother was right in her voicemail. I did know her. And in all this time, she hadn’t changed one bit. Months ago, when Hongbo first became a problem, I still held out hope that I could make her see the puke green. When I hired Andrew, I’d tempered the hope accordingly but still believed she would at least be able to accept someone else—a better someone—over ol’ Dreamboat. Now, after all this, she was as clear as a Waterford champagne flute.

  And for the first time, the truth started to sink in: my parents weren’t going to change. If they couldn’t come around during the Hongbo mess for the sake of my happiness, they wouldn’t with anything—or anyone—else.

  And I would never be enough. Not my looks or any of my choices.

  I’d sacrificed so much for my parents’ sake, yet we were still landing in this purgatory where no one was happy. Maybe the problem was trying to please both of us, having my (moon)cake and eating it too.

  Since they weren’t going to change, the question I now had to ask myself was: Them or me? Was I able to fully accept them and their expectations of me? Could I be the Jing-Jing they wanted for the rest of my life? Or would I choose to live the life I wanted, even with the possibility that they wouldn’t be able to accept the real me?

  January 13 unsent texts to Drew

 

  I’m sorry

  Do you regret choosing art?

  How did you know what you wanted?

  I miss you

  I choose you

  I can’t choose you

  Why is this so hard?

  I miss you

  January 13, 8:16 p.m. CST

 

  Are you happy?

 

  Is something wrong? You’re not having dark thoughts are you?

  I just want to know if you’re happy

  Of course I’m happy.

  Do you want to know if I’m happy?

  Why would you not be?

  Do you care if I’m happy?

  Aiyah Jing Jing why you need to ask that?

  Everything I do is for you. To make you happy. It’s my biggest care in life.

  What’s going on? Why all these questions? You’re scaring me.

  Nothing to worry about

  Just a class assignment

  We’re supposed to ask our parents a few questions

  Oh. OK.

  You tell them how good I am! No helicopter mom!

  Just an airplane heehee.

  Okay I will

  Great joke

  I love you

  Work hard. No hanky panky. Put on some makeup.

  I will send more money when I can.

  Thanks, Mama

  Chloe CHAPTER 58

  THE CLIFF

  January 14

  Something had changed over the past few months, slowly, first with Hongbo and then with my parents’ betrayals. Then because of my time with Drew. Something had changed in me. The first few buds had sprouted when I’d hired Drew, and a few leaves had grown at the Christmas Eve party, but now, with some time-induced clarity, I felt different, like I was on the verge of blooming.

  I could no longer have the same relationship with my parents. I couldn’t be the version of myself I hated, not anymore. Not even if it was limited to my infrequent California visits. And especially not with the one person who truly cared about me.

  I had to do better. I couldn’t live with myself if I chose my parents and full-blown Jing-Jing. As much as it made my stomach revolt, as much as it made me want to hide under the covers with a string-cheese-shaped xiǎo zhěntóu, I had to choose me. How could I expect anyone else to if I didn’t do it first?

  I was finally ready to jump off the cliff.

  I choose the life I want, not the one my parents want.

  * * *

  My palms pooled with sweat as I called him. To prevent the phone from slipping out of my grasp, I switched to speakerphone.

  “Chloe, hi.”

  The sound of his voice filled the hole he’d left in his absence.

  “Drew…” I forgot all my words. “Hi.”

  I wished I could see him.

  “Hi,” he said again.

  The awkwardness shouldn’t have been surprising, given how we’d left things, but it still caught me off guard. I’d worked through so much in the past two weeks I felt like a different person, but now I remembered that I still had to explain it all to him. And that he might not want to hear it.

  Shit.

  “Hi,” I repeated. The fourth one. “Um…”

  I glanced at the notes I’d jotted down beforehand. It was dorky, but without them I had nothing.

  “I’m calling because I wanted to tell you just how incredibly sorry I am, to my core, and also that I’ve had some revelations since we last spoke—”

  “Oh shoot, I must’ve missed the script you sent. Is it okay if I don’t know my lines yet?”

  My laugh was much higher-pitched than I would’ve liked, but I was also relieved he’d made a joke. But then the awkward silence returned.

  I dropped the paper and started again, no prepared lines: “I’m really sorry I hurt you. It’s been killing me that I caused you pain, and all because I couldn’t be honest with myself or my parents. I—I don’t like who I’ve become. I’m ashamed I wasn’t there for you when that’s all you’ve done for me.”

  His breathing deepened. Without being able to see his face, I had no idea what he was thinking.

  “Thank you for saying that,” he said, his voice even.

  “I hope you can forgive me.” Especially when I don’t know how to forgive myself. “And if you can, I want to try again. I mean, only if you want to too, of course. Except this time, I’m all in. I choose you. You come first, the way it always should have been. Like you’ve always done for me. When we decide we’re ready to tell my parents, I will. And I’m going to accept whatever comes, even if it means cutting ties.”

  Complete silence. Seriously? Was this boy trying to make me pee myself from stress? Because I was close.

  Finally he said, “I can’t ask you to do that, Chloe.”

  “You didn’t ask me to do anything. I’m telling you this is what I want.”

  I knew it was my turn to fight for us—really fight for us—but I was also disappointed my big moment hadn’t gone as planned.

  Some shuffling on his end—maybe he was adjusting the phone? Then: “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy to hear that, but it doesn’t change what you’d be sacrificing. Or that I still don’t belong in your world.”

  I insisted, “You do belong. You—�
��

  “I’m scared it bothers you that I dropped out of college,” he blurted out.

  Oh, my heart.

  Slowly, so it would sink in, I said, “That does not bother me. I don’t judge you. I don’t think of you any differently. But I am ashamed at how I reacted at first. And I do acknowledge that even though it doesn’t bother me, it’s still unfair that you have to deal with my parents’ future judgment. I wish I could shield you from that, but realistically, I know it’ll hurt regardless. It’s already hurting you. And sometimes I feel so horrible about that I think I should stay away from you for your own good. If that’s what you want, I more than understand. It feels selfish of me to ask you for another chance, but I also couldn’t not ask.”

  “Oh, Chloe.” Tendrils of sympathy reached for me from each of his syllables. After another beat he repeated, “I can’t live with myself if I’m the reason you’d be sacrificing your relationship with your parents.”

  “It’s not a sacrifice. And I’m not doing this just because of you.”

  It had taken me too long and too much pain—both to myself and others—to finally see what I was about to say. “I can’t have the relationship I want with my parents until I give us a fresh slate to start from. I’ve been too afraid of there being no slate after I tell them the truth—which is still a possibility—but I can’t live in between anymore. I know you get that.”

  “I do,” he said quietly.

  “And I can’t let you go. Not unless that’s what you want.” My nose burned and tears pooled—happy tears this time. “I choose you, Drew. And me. I want to fight for us. If you’re willing, I want to try this, just us, and see where it goes. The long distance won’t be easy, but I’ll visit when I can, and we can text and call. When we’re both ready, I’m going to tell my parents about us. Not right now, only because I think we owe it to ourselves to give the relationship a chance to grow without that kind of pressure. But one day, maybe even soon. Bottom line, we’re in this together. If you want.”

  I heard a muffled sniff, which made me sniff.

  I almost dropped the phone when Drew suddenly raised his voice to exclaim, “So we’re really fucking doing this?”

  “We’re really fucking doing this!” I yelled back, laughing with him.

  The happy tears were falling falling falling. I caught them myself.

  January 14, 11:01 p.m. CST

 

  I just deleted my Rent for Your ’Rents app!

 

  Woohoo!

  Well it served its intended purpose

  Good riddance, Hongbo!

  Ding dong!

  Why didn’t you delete it sooner?

  They just did an update and I think there’s a bug in there

  The nonstop ba-boop-boops have been worse than talking to Hongbo

  Oh wait did you figure out a way to shut it off? Please share!

  No

  I hadn’t deleted it yet because it was the one place I had a connection to you and some of your info

  That’s so sweet!

  Hey, are you going to tell the company about us?

  Because they can advertise that too. Like, hey, rent a boyfriend for your parents, and maybe even you too, if you’re lucky

  Ha! That’s not a bad idea

  I’ve got a million of them

  Rent for Your ’Rents has a lot of untapped potential

  Well good thing you know someone who can put you in touch with someone

  Yeah?

  If you want

  They might want to hire you

  Yeah, all right

  I think there’s a lot of good to be done

  For the clients

  Goodnight

  Sleep loose

  Sleep loose like a golden goose

  I think you mean duck

  Huh? That doesn’t rhyme

  I’ll explain next time we talk

  Can’t wait

  Drew CHAPTER 59

  ABOUT TIME

  January 15

  I had spent the past two Chloe-less weeks covering the apartment with dark moons, teaching myself to do Zhōngguó jié in an attempt to feel closer to my grandfather, and watching old Schitt’s Creek episodes. But to Jason and Marshall’s relief (I was pretty sure if they heard “ew, David” one more time, my laptop was going out the window), I was now giggling on the couch, texting Chloe.

  I’d just asked her What kind of car does Chang’e the sheep drive? when my phone buzzed with an email.

  Screeeeaming. Literally. I jumped up from the couch and started screaming. Jason and Marshall almost shit themselves, I’m pretty sure, because I almost shit myself and I was the one making the noise.

  “I got innnnnn!” I screeched, then immediately called Chloe. Jason and Marshall were jumping up and down when she picked up.

  “A Lamborghini!” she answered with a laugh. “That’s so many inside jokes rolled into one.”

  “What? Oh shit, right.” I’d forgotten I hadn’t sent the punch line of the what-does-Cháng’é-the-sheep-drive joke, but of course she didn’t need me to. “I have something to tell you,” I burst out. “I got accepted into an art fellowship.”

  She yelled so loud I would’ve needed to pull the phone away if I hadn’t been yelling right along with her (and Jason and Marshall). I pumped a fist in the air even though she couldn’t see.

  “I’m so happy for you!” she exclaimed. But then she paused and her voice lowered. “I mean, if you want me to be. You don’t need more schooling. Unless you want it. I really meant it when I said that doesn’t matter and you should do what’s best for you. I hope you applied because you wanted to, not because of… anything else.”

  I wished she hadn’t soured the moment, but I also maybe sort of appreciated the sentiment? Or not. Maybe it sucked that it was still such a big deal.

  We were back, but not without a few scars. Probably all for the better in the long run, but a bit painful right now.

  “I wanted to try this opportunity because it’s a good fit for me—contemporary art featuring two artists I admire and draw inspiration from. I don’t know if this is the specific track I’ll keep pursuing, but I need to try things to figure out how I want to do this, right?” My nerves were showing more than I’d hoped, but it also felt good to air out my thoughts. My parents had made me believe my art was a dirty secret, and I was just starting to move past that.

  “Of course, of course,” Chloe said, still a little on edge.

  “Wait, I haven’t told you the best part.”

  “How can there be something better?”

  “Two somethings,” I clarified.

  “Oh my God, tell me!”

  My legs flailed, Irish jig–style, because I was so excited I couldn’t stand it (literally, ha). “It’s at the Art Institute of Chicago. All expenses paid, for a week. I arrive on January twenty-ninth.”

  This time I did have to jerk the phone away.

  A second later I interrupted her whooping. “Wait, wait, the second thing is even better!”

  “You also get a pet unicorn?”

  “Better. Chloe, I took this step because of you. I really meant it when I told you before that seeing you go after what you want inspired me. Thank you.”

  It was quiet for a second. “You did this yourself. I’m really proud of you.” Her familiar sweet voice wrapped around me like a hug.

  I did another flaily-leg jig. “Hey, I’m going to see you in two weeks.”

  She squealed. “Two weeks! Ah! I can’t believe it!”

  Neither could I. Things didn’t usually fall into place for me, but that just meant it was about time, right?

  Chloe CHAPTER 60

  HELL OF A GREETING

  January 16–29

  The next two weeks d r a g g e d on, even though Drew and I texted in our free time… and maybe also in my not-so-free-time, like during class, whoops.

  Some were lighter:

 

  I know they’r
e putting you up in a hotel, but you’re also welcome to stay in my dorm

  You can borrow pajamas

 

  I only wear satin, and they have to be something worthy for my flock of sheep

  Satin tuxedo it is

  Then I will match James Baaand

  Too much?

  No, not baaad

  Some were more serious:

 

  I’m scared I won’t be good enough

 

  You got in!

  You earned your place!

  What if I was the fluke?

  The one who was admitted when the admissions person was drunk?

  Drunk people’s opinions matter too

  They go to art museums

  True

  Though… I wouldn’t know

  I don’t like to drink

  Not that I’ve tried, of course, being underage

  I don’t really drink either

  I can’t afford to buy Pepcid AC AND alcohol

  Does that really work?

  Supposedly?

  Or you can just embrace the Asian glow

  Who said redness is uncool?

  Maybe I think people who have all the alcohol metabolizing genes are the sad ones

  Except for the admissions guy who let me in

  He rules

  You will be GREAT

  I promise

  Chang’e believes in you

  The goddess or the sheep?

  Both

  Phew

  Ok

  As long as the sheep was included

  Then I can do this

  Okay, so even our serious ones turned lighthearted.

  During those two weeks, I became obsessed with sitting as still as a scarecrow in class so I could feel whether my phone was vibrating with a text. I mistook every slight sound and muscle tic for a notification and played emotional roulette instead of paying attention to the lecture.

  And then I felt so guilty for squandering this opportunity and my parents’ hard-earned money—I even calculated how much each lecture cost, and it wasn’t for the faint of heart—that a few days before Drew’s arrival, I started leaving my phone at home.