Chapter 1The Boyfriend Test

When I was little, I went to buy a soda and picked out a $3 bottle of Coke.

My mom said, "A $1 bottle of water quenches your thirst just the same. Why spend the extra two dollars?"

When we went out to eat, given the choice between a $25 Happy Meal or a $16 bowl of beef noodle soup, it was always the noodle soup.

My clothes were always picked from the discount stalls at the market—the cheapest ones available.

Then I grew up, and I brought home a boyfriend with bleached blond hair.

My mom had a meltdown.

* * *

Staring at the man in front of her—sporting a mop of bright yellow hair, a studded leather jacket, skin-tight black leather pants, and a smile that was way too enthusiastic—my mom's mouth hung slightly open. She couldn't seem to close it.

Finally, I had to snap her soul back into her body.

"Mom, this is my boyfriend," I introduced him.

She had been on her way out to her dance class, but she immediately pulled her foot back inside.

Hearing my introduction, Chad looked for a place to wipe his hands. But between the studs on his jacket and the leather of his pants, he couldn't find a spot. He ended up shoving his hands inside his vest, rubbing them quickly against the lining.

Then he grabbed my mom's hand, shaking it vigorously. "Hello, Mom! I'm Chad! I'll take good care of Emily."

Seeing my mom's face turn whiter by the second, I quickly pulled him away.

"You should go now. I'm home."

Chad realized he might have been a bit too intense. He let go immediately, but with enough force that my mom's hand kept shaking for a few seconds.

I hurried him out.

As the elevator doors closed, he was still shouting, "Mom! I'm leaving now! I'll come visit you again soon!"

The moment the doors shut, my mom dragged me inside.

She slammed the door hard, like she was afraid someone would break in.

Her brow furrowed, her tone unkind. "How could you find a boyfriend like that?"

I put down my bag and sat on the sofa.

"Mom, he treats me really well."

"Don't let his clothes fool you. He's very responsible. He's working hard to save up for a ring. He plans to marry me."

"His salary is really high!"

Hearing this, my mom's expression softened slightly.

"What does he do?" she asked, fishing for details.

"He's a security guard at an apartment complex. He makes $3,500 a month, six days a week."

"What! $3,500 is considered a high salary?" Her voice rose an octave.

"He's still on probation. Once he's permanent, it'll be higher!"

"How much higher?"

"Another $500! That's $4,000 a month!"

"After rent of $1,000, food for $1,000, $500 for our dates, and $500 for living expenses, he can save $1,000 every month. That's $12,000 a year for the wedding fund!"

My mom sank onto the sofa, rubbing her temples.

She looked at me with bewilderment. "What is good about a man like that?"