Unrequited Love (creative project)

“单恋” （Unrequited Love）

整夜未眠做米线

千丝万缕剪不完

青梅竹马情迷乱

懵懂未知动红鸾

心跳如歌歌潮狂放

襄王有心心如鹿撞

毓秀娉婷悦目赏心

一颦一笑若我心怜

神女无梦岂知君心动

笑骂吵闹兄妹情亦浓

心无杂念友谊指千金

心有所属何奈君非君

红尘作伴有幸相知相识

爱恨嗔痴可惜可惜

挥剑斩情情未断

缠缠绕绕

无情胜有情

So-called Love Story, Starting from Noodles

Ivory color with a silky texture, slim-lined with incredible tenacity—my favorite food never failed to stimulate the secretion of my saliva just with its beautiful shape. Ever since I was little, MiXian had seemed to have a magic power on my tongue. I could never resist it. In fact, it was merely a type of noodle that originated from my hometown. What I appreciated the most was the complicated process of liquefying the rice, then filtering the juice, then making the liquid into flour, then turning all this work into strands of noodle. After being cooked in boiling water, these strands, thin and long, intertwined together and formed a web, tender yet unbreakable. This morning, my mom, after I had begged her for a week, finally agreed to make a box of MiXian for my lunch. She’s never been a chef, but she cooked my favorite dish as carefully as she could because too high a temperature, or too much water, or any mistake can break these strands and destroy the natural taste of the noodle. She carefully packed the noodles in one box, soup in another, and meat and other condiments in the last.

* * *

Twelve fifteen, perfect timing. As soon as the bell rang, I rushed out of the room and flew to the cafeteria. I just couldn’t wait to see what Jenifer had brought today—she had told me that she would educate my taste in Chinese food with her lunch. When I arrived, Jenifer was not there yet, but David was already online so I could queue. He’s been my buddy since elementary, loyal and faithful. We’ve done everything together, cutting school, fist fighting, and being yelled at—nothing girls could do.

If David was like my little devil on the shoulder, Jenifer was the angel, sweet, generous, and caring. I really liked her, though David and I would never stop making fun of her. I knew she wouldn’t mind.

* * *

I had promised to show my friends some Chinese food that they had never seen. When I got to the cafeteria, my friends were already waiting for me at the table, circling me as soon as I got in, and eager to find out about my favorite food. I took out my huge lunch bag. But wait, where were Josh and Dave? I had promised to show them before eating it.

“Jenifer, show us, please. What’s in it? Why does it take up three boxes? How do you eat them?”

“Exactly! Just open it so we can see what you boasted the whole day of. What’s so special about it? “

“But Josh…”

“It takes them forever to get on those stupid lines. Forget it. Or are you worrying if we’ll like it? It’s ok, we are open-minded.”

“What are you talking about? You will love it! it’s so pretty and tasty.” I opened the boxes. “This is Mixian, a noodle that’s made of rice; this is the soup, and you have to add this fried meat to give it a special spicy and sour taste.” I mixed the three boxes of food as I explained. Strands of noodles stretched out as I pour soup into the box, drifting, dancing, as layers and layers of the web formed, elegantly, delicately.

“Hey, this thing has a weird smell to it—doesn’t smell like pasta or noodle.”

“Isn’t it like those LouMin in the HongKong Tea place but with a different color?”

“You guys just never appreciate the beauty of food. Of course it smells different because it’s made of rice! The HongKong Café doesn’t have this—it’s a dish from my hometown. “

“It’s not as special as I expected.” Josh’s voice rose from behind—classic Josh-style teasing.

“Agree. It’s merely normal pasta with a filthy smell to it.” David would just agree with whatever Josh said. I just didn’t understand why boys have to talk with a cynical tone all the time.

“Whatever!” I was too busy stuffing noodles into my mouth, didn’t even bother to argue with them

“It looks like those fake spider webs at Halloween. Guess what, you should really hang it on your head in Halloween like this, and this…” He then made the most ridiculous face that I’d even seen with noodles on his cheek.

Unexpectedly, unfortunately, and unwillingly, I raised my head and saw that face, and couldn’t help but burst into laughter, with a mouthful of noodles. The chewed noodles dispersed from my mouth, flew across the table, and landed, inevitably, on Josh’s face. Oops. I really didn’t mean to do that.

* * *

What is this! All I did was joke about like I always did and spread some happiness, and was that worth being spat on? Gosh, not only was it noodles, but chewed noodles with saliva. Worst of all, now, the whole class was staring at us, frozen—I’ve never been so embarrassed before.

“I didn’t mean it, sorry.” Jenifer was the first one back to life. She jumped up from her seat, ran over to my side, meant to clean the noodles off my face, and carelessly, knocked down the whole box of noodles, which fell right onto my lap.

I could imagine how red my face turned by seeing how red she was right now.

“Sorry, I am really sorry,” whispered Jenifer, with her big innocent eyes starring remorsefully at me—quenched the anger that should have risen in me. Irresistibly, I was lost in her glance. I just can never really get mad at Jenifer.

“What you think you are doing? “ David screamed out, “Do you even have any manners? Clean up your filthy food.”

His chalkboard-scratching voice woke me up from the maze of Jenifer’s glance. I needed a normal reaction—what could I pretend to be? Angry? Ashamed?

“Oh, disgusting.” I was just too accustomed to agreeing with David.

* * *

What is so “disgusting” about my MiXian? It’s my favorite food. Why couldn’t they understand? Even Josh.

I don’t know to this day, why I got furious over this word. Tear built in my eyes as soon as he said it. I pushed him out of my way and ran out of the cafeteria.

Students and faculties in the cafeteria were all watching us, and their glance felt like burning on my skin. I had to run away. Crying.

* * *

I did something really stupid and unforgivable. What am I supposed to do now? She must be really mad at me. How could we go any further while our friendship is even at risk? How could I secure our relationship?

I held my phone in my hand, input her number, dialed, and hung up before the call was made, dialed again, and hung up again.

Why do men have to be the ones apologizing? She humiliated me in front of the whole school. David’s voice echoed in my head: “If you are a man, don’t give in.”

* * *

There had to be someone giving in first. I’d never had such a big argument with Josh before—he’s the type of guy you can only laugh at and laugh with. I held my phone in my hand, input his number, dialed, and hung up before the call was made, dialed again, and hung up again.

Fine, I will be the one giving in, but it’s an apology beyond words.

“Mom, would you cook me lunch tomorrow, please? I want MiXian.”

* * *

Twelve fifteen, perfect timing. After the bell rang, I rushed out of the room and then strolled to the cafeteria, lost in thoughts.

How am I going to start? Sorry? Or hello? Or pretend that nothing happened?

As I was walking and wondering, a small hand tapped my shoulder. I turned around and a bag of lunch boxes was stuffed into my crossed arm before I could say a word. That pair of small hands never seemed so powerful to me, reaching out, picking up the broken strands of connection and tying a knot to fix it.

Since that day, MiXian became my favorite food. Despite its chewy and smooth texture, what I appreciated the most was the process of making it, from rice to noodle, any mistake could damage these webs and destroy its taste.

I made it once, but thanks to Jenifer for fixing it.