1 Ch. 1: Chunhua the Chef

"The fois gras is bubbling over! Chunhua where are you?", bellowed Mr. Big from the stoves.

Chunhua could only stifle a sigh as she wiped off her fingers, greasy with bacon fat, on her black apron and rushed over to help the head chef. It was a case of the student helping the master, except that Mr. Big was no master at all. The chubby man, who indeed lived up to his last name of Big, was incredibly inadept at everything related to cooking. How he had ever gotten his job at Le Petit Maison, an upscale French restaurant that Chunhua part-timed at after school, was a mystery that even Sherlock Holmes himself would struggle to solve.

"I'm here, sir!" Chunhua obediently chirped, wanting nothing more than to throw some less savory words at Mr. Big. It was the evening rush hour and since it was a Friday, the guests were even more unrelenting than usual. It was the 3rd fois gras Chunhua had whipped together and it was far from 12 am, the golden time when Chunhua could finally unlace her tight apron strings and dance out the door. But for now, she was trapped in a cramped walkway with waiters rushing back and forth in the narrow space Mr. Big left them. Coupled with the lingering scent of stale cigarettes on his white chef coat, it was a wonder the patrons within the restaurant couldn't smell him as well.

"What sad excuse of a fois gras is this? How can I show my face to the guests with this duck?" Mr. Big picked up one end of the seared duck a bare finger and pointed at the artful crisscross burn mark on it, drawing a cringe from the overly hygienic girl.

"It's supposed to look like that, sir," Chunhua replied, her eyes narrowing on the fat finger Mr. Big shoved into his mouth to cool it from the burn and taste some of the spicing of the dish.

Flipping the duck so that the end that Mr. Big had touched could have the bacteria fried off, Chunhua began to garnish the plate it would be served on.

"Remember how last time we fried it like this, the critic personally called you out to thank you for the most authe-"

But Mr. Big interrupted her. "Yes, the most authentic fois gras he had ever tasted in all his years." His eyes looked starry as he fondly recalled how he had stolen credit for Chunhua's cooking, a constant affair. Everyone in the back kitchen knew that Chunhua did all the cooking that the head chef was assigned, as well as all the side dishes sous chef had to cover. But no one seemed to care or want to stand up for the small high schooler who often did their jobs better than them.

Calming down from his initial bluster, Mr. Big snatched Chunhua's spatula from her hand and plated the fois gras, the hunk of meat splatting onto plate and dispursing her carefully decorated garnish. She could only hold in a sigh as she cleaned up his plating in breakneck speed, just in time for Georgie to stick his curly head into the back kitchen and yell for the order.

Shouldering her aside, Chunhua could only watch as Mr. Big grabbed the dish she had fixed up and hand it to Georgie with a satisfied expression on his face.

"If the table doesn't like it, you can kiss this job goodbye, cupcake." Mr. Big sneered at her in a low voice as he headed out back to smoke a cigarette until Chunhua had completed the next dish. Chunhua almost corrected him for the thousandth time that her name was Chunhua, not cupcake. It was only the cherry on top that Mr. Big never called Chunhua by her Chinese first name. Georgie gave her an apologetic expression over the aluminum counter, as he was one of the few staff members of Le Petit Maison who gave her time of day. But Chunhua couldn't dwell on it, she had a pound of bacon to chop into quarters for the tartiflette, a scrumptious French pie stuffed with cheese, potato, and of course, bacon.

Slowing to the easy rhythm of her slicing knife, Chunhua's heart rate began to settle once more as she became lost in what she loved doing most: cooking. It was why she put up with Mr. Big's bossiness, her staff mates' indifference, and the long hours after grueling school days. The pleasure that came from finishing dishes Chunhua had spent her entire childhood dreaming to create, it was unbeatable. The moment she had turned sixteen, Chunhua had sought out job after job at various cafes and restaurants, almost completely discouraged by the constant rejection.

Since her eyes could make out words and sentences, she had bugged her mother to take her to the library so she could borrow the well-worn copy of Julia Child's French cooking book. Through trial and error, much to her mother's chagrin, Chunhua had nearly blown up her family condo's small kitchenette and set off the fire alarm too many times to count. But perfection was in her blood, instilled by her strict parents, and before long she was able to prove herself when Le Petit Maison, of all places, had given Chunhua a test run in their kitchen on a slow Tuesday afternoon. And the rest was history. For an underage sous chef, Le Petit paid pretty well and it wouldn't be long before she could properly afford tuition for culinary school, to her parents' chagrin.

Using the back of her hand to brush a piece of long, jet black hair that had fallen from her ponytail, the electric screen of her watch flashed back at her. 11:53, she was practically free! Washing her hands thoroughly at the sink, Chunhua looked at the back door, feeling mischievous. Just because she loved her job, didn't mean she had to concede to Mr. Big at every available opportunity. Unbuttoning her black chef coat, a devious plan took hold in Chunhua's mind, a petty, small thing but a plan nonetheless.

The same way he didn't care to say her name, Mr. Big never bothered to remember when her hours ended and when he had to cease chain-smoking to actually do his job. The back door was the only exit out of the restaurant for staff members, but for once her diminutive stature stood her in good stead as she eyed the unattended window adjacent to the door that was used to air out the stuffy kitchen, teaming with the scent of thyme and steak.

Chunhua turned her head side to side, feeling awkward being in the kitchen in her normal clothes rather than her chef's garb. But as usual, no one was paying attention to her, even as she dragged a random bucket upside down so she could reach the window. She heaved up her purple backpack, checking once more if anyone had noticed her standing on a bucket next to the window but her invisibility held up still. Chunhua just shrugged, chucking her bag out the window before swinging her leg over the edge as well.

The metal fastenings of the window dug into her chef pants, which she obviously couldn't change out of and Chunhua looked back, only to see Georgie staring right at her with wide eyes. His open mouth ready to say something to her was the last thing she saw before she dropped on the other side, her knees nearly hitting the pavement as the drop was further than she had expected.

Guilt wormed its way into Chunhua's goody two-shoes heart, but she shook it away as it was the same heart that kept her from acting out against Mr. Big and made her everyone's go-to person for a pencil at school. It was dark out, with only a sliver of the moon present, and in the sudden chill of the outdoors, Chunhua could clearly see plumes of smoke from the other side of the building from Mr. Big.

Like a cat that had caught the canary, she smiled to herself, tossing her backpack over her shoulder as she fervently hoped that when she returned for work that Sunday, Mr. Big would be sacked. A sudden breeze sent an icy chill up her leg, alerting her to the fact that she had managed to tear her brand new chef pants on the edge of the window. Barely swallowing a swear word, since her parents didn't approve of bad language, Chunhua mentally cursed out her luck. With her odds, Mr. Big would not only be present on Sunday, but somehow become alerted to the fact that she had snuck out in a weak attempt to get him in trouble.

Walking towards the bus station at the end of the block, the image of Mr. Big's wobbly double chin working overtime as he yelled at her played in her head like a broken reel. She was beyond exhausted, her legs aching from standing for so long. And now her future at Le Petit Maison seemed uncertain. Would Mr. Big truly follow through with his constant threat of getting her fired? Nothing good ever came out of her rebelling.

Her first rebellion was at home, demanding to pursue cooking rather than her parent's approved medicine or law. Ever since she had taken up her job, Chunhua's parents had realized she was serious and reacted accordingly, slowly cutting themselves out of Chunhua's life and further involving themselves in her younger brother's life. Her mother had stopped cooking her congee for breakfast, insisting that since she loved cooking so much she could make it herself. Her father had informed her that her college funds that they had set aside for her since birth had gone into their retirement plan since she didn't have any use for it. According to him, culinary school wasn't a real school.

They had also asserted that after all the sacrifices they had made for her in the past, they would not sacrifice any more of their time for her, hence why the young teenager was using the bus at midnight to go home. Not to mention, her stomach was on the verge of eating itself, that was how hungry it was. Her mom didn't leave out dinner on the counter wrapped up anymore, not after their last fight.

"Hey! Chunhua!", yelled a voice with a slight Mexican accent from behind her, dragging Chunhua out of her downward spiraling thoughts.

"Ya?", she replied, horrified to hear the slight warble of tears in her voice.

It was Georgie, holding a familiar object in his hand. It was Chunhua's turn for her eyes to turn to saucers as she realized that in her rush to trick Mr. Big, she had forgotten her lucky ladle in the kitchen.

Chunhua let out a small whoop, surprising the huffing Georgie who had run over from the back door.

"Thank you so much, Georgie!", she exclaimed, the relief from holding the first cooking item she had ever bought calming her down. It was a black ladle with a shorter handle, since it was actually part of a children's cooking set she had purchased in middle school. With only a few years to it, the item was in mint condition and it would've gotten absorbed into the back kitchen if she'd forgotten it.

"Ya, no problem." He rubbed the back of his head, looking like he had more to say. Chunhua checked her watch. The time read 11:58.

"Listen," Georgie started, prompting her to look back at him, "I saw what you did..."

Chunhua's heart stopped. Georgie was always kind to her in the kitchen, but it was well within his job to report her for exiting from the window and not reporting to her superiors before leaving. They made eye contact and Chunhua could feel her heart begin to race in her chest until Georgie uttered his next words.

"...and it was awesome! I'm with you, Gordo is such a pain to deal with I'm surprised you've lasted this long. His other sous chefs quitted working for him within half the time you've been with us."

Chunhua let out a long exhale. "So, you won't tell?"

"Tell?" Georgie chuckled. "If he gets fired, I'm throwing a party for you."

Chunhua grinned despite herself, flipping her backpack to her front so she could tuck in her ladle beside her folder. Georgie had even been kind enough to wash and dry it before returning it to her.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

A warm feeling sprouted in Chunhua's heart as she and Georgie grinned at one another, one conspirator to another. Georgie was cute in a boyish way despite being in his 20s, his caramel skin at odds with her pasty white coloring that could never pick up the golden tan that was popular among her classmates. Her heart thumped a little in her chest, this time not from fear, and Chunhua's nonexistent dating history made her cheeks begin to warm in the harsh early morning cold.

The meager connection was broken all too soon, as Georgie, not much taller than her but tall enough, looked over her head at something approaching.

"Your bus is coming, so I'm gonna split. Get home safe and I'll see you on Sunday, ok?" he said slowly as he looked deep into her eyes, brushing her irritating piece of hair slowly behind her ears that set Chunhua into panic mode. That definitely wasn't innocent. Or was it? Chunhua had no idea, relationships were a completely foreign thing to her and no one ever paid her much attention at school.

"Ya, uh, for sure! Um, thanks for the-er, my ladle." she barely stammered out, certain that even in the dark Georgie could easily make out her red face. Turning to run onto the now open doors of the bus, Chunhua sat down in the first open seat she could find near the front putting her hands on her hot cheeks. This was new. Her mind flashed to the way Georgie had carefully tucked her pin-straight hair that could never hold a curl.

And she kind of liked it.