This is What Salt Tastes Like

by milkocaine

Summary:

Kim Hongjoong has been navigating through life with her mother as the sole guidance she has.

When Park Seonghwa comes into her life and starts opening every closed door with bold gestures and stunning smiles, she finds that life is, apparently, both more colourful and harsher than what she could have prepared for.

Chapter 1

Cherry blossom petals trickle down to the pavement where a pair of shoes come to rest. Brown leather with a neat, gold buckle on the strap that tightens over top of white socks—and they had come with congratulations for ending one chapter of her life and moving onto the next.

Her bag, where she plucks a cherry blossom petal off the strap of, had come with the promise of a good, memorable three years. It sits light over her shoulders, but she knows it’ll be full and heavy by the end of the day.

The flowers drifting with the wind bring an aroma that she has now associated with newness. It is the start of a new year even though it is now March, and she had just been dressed prettily in the brand-new hanbok her mother had to get her because she grew a little too tall for her old one.

To Kim Hongjoong, this is the beginning of everything.

Her feet skip up the path to her new school as the jovial voices of other students around her filter in with the breeze. Almost everyone in her year will be a familiar face, but there’s a nervousness that comes naturally with suddenly being surrounded by other upperclassmen when she had just been one of the oldest students in middle school—and she feels so young again. Her mother will probably poke fun at her for saying that.

Someone calls out for her from behind, and in the next couple of seconds, she’s surrounded by a group of girls, giggles and chattering filling the space around her. She plucks her earbud out of her ear despite being able to hear perfectly well with her music playing in the back.

“Kim Hongjoong!” Shuhua says just as she links an arm around Hongjoong’s. “I missed you so much!”

Hongjoong beams widely as she lets herself be guided towards the school doors. “I missed you too! How was visiting back home?”

Shuhua’s eyes widen excitedly as she tells her all about going back home to Taiwan to visit her parents. Hongjoong can’t imagine what it’s like living in another country without her mother. Shuhua may have come with her aunt and uncle, but Hongjoong thinks she’ll miss her mother too much to even consider it.

Soyeon gasps from her other side. “Oh my gosh, Kim Hongjoong! Are you wearing lipstick? I’m going to tell the teacher,” she jokes with a giggle.

Hongjoong flushes hard as her friends poke fun at her, and she goes to wipe at her lips with the back of her hand. “It—it’s a tinted lip balm…!”

“Ooh, you’re growing up so fast…” Shuhua sighs dreamily, but she’s back on Hongjoong’s case almost immediately. “Tell me, tell me—what’s it like to have a boyfriend? Is it fun? Do you guys go on a lot of dates? Ah… I want to know, please tell me!”

At the sudden outburst of questions, Hongjoong grows shy, and her head dips low as they enter through the front doors of the school. “Oh, it’s… it’s nothing special, really…”

“Are you lying?” Soyeon asks with such genuineness, Hongjoong’s head lifts to meet her gaze. “Why wouldn’t it be fun? Don’t you guys hold hands and go to the movies and stuff?”

The two girls observe her quietly as Hongjoong’s gaze drops to the floor with a timid smile, but then she’s looking back up with a crinkle in her eyes and her lips stretched from ear to ear, as if she wants to dispel the tinge of negative energy around them. “No, it is fun! I just… wish we had gone to the same school…”

Soyeon frowns sadly. “Don’t worry, Hongjoong-ah… I’m sure everything will be okay.”

“That’s right!” Shuhua beams. “Maybe it will make the time you spend together even more meaningful.”

Hongjoong’s shoulders lift with her inhale. “You think so?”

“Yes! What if… hm… what if you planned a little surprise for him?” she suggests as all the students around them scurry around, the teachers and authorities ushering them towards the gymnasium for the orientation.

Hongjoong thinks about it as she moves with the crowd, blending in with the sea of students around her as they enter the gymnasium. It doesn’t sound like too terrible of an idea. While it’s true she wishes that she and Jiwon could have attended high school together, she was also really proud of him for getting into such a prestigious school.

He hadn’t told her at first because he thought it might make her sad to know he’s hoping to attend a different school without her, and, truthfully, yes—Hongjoong was a little disappointed, but she didn’t let it get to her.

Jiwon is her first boyfriend after all. He’s sweet, has a nice smile, and he’s also really good at making Hongjoong laugh, so why let a little bit of distance come between them when they have so much to look forward to in this relationship?

Hongjoong glances around her to see an endless amount of recognizable faces from middle school around her, and then back up to the principal on stage, arms lifted as she’s talking.

Even with friends all around her, Hongjoong still wishes she can turn her head and find Jiwon sitting right next to her, their pinkies brushing between them, unseen in the dimness of the gymnasium, unknown to all but them. Still, Hongjoong feels her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach, and her new shoes suddenly feel too heavy on her feet.

The first two weeks of high school go by in a flash. Hongjoong barely remembers what she had eaten this morning for breakfast while she’s in a hurry to get out of class by the first sound of the bell, and she nearly misses the sound of her name being called from behind her while trying to rush out of the school building.

Also, she was right. By the end of her first day of school, her backpack had been absurdly heavy.

Hongjoong turns around to find Momo waving at her while scrambling to get her backpack on over her shoulders. She waits, but her toes wiggle in her shoes, like there’s so much energy in her little body, and she doesn’t know where to put it. She puts on her brightest smile and hopes she doesn’t look too impatient.

“Yes?” she asks, surprisingly proud of herself for how normal her voice sounds despite the pounding inside of her chest.

“Jihyo, Nayeon, and I were planning on going to the food market tonight! We wanted to see if you wanted to come?” Momo asks with a hopeful expression on her face.

Hongjoong feels a little guilty for having to turn her down, but not enough for her to have to hesitate before replying, “Ah… I’m so sorry! I’m busy today, but we can go next week!”

“Aw, that’s okay! Let’s go next week together then! I’ve been missing that halmeoni’s tteokkochi…” Momo says dreamily, and Hongjoong can’t help the little giggle that slips past her lips. The sudden hunger pang that hits her has her remembering she hasn’t eaten at lunch today, too nervous to even think about getting any food down.

Swallowing down her saliva, she assures, “I miss her tteokkochi too! I promise I’ll go next week with you.” Hongjoong waves at Momo as she returns to her group of friends, and then she’s heading down the hallway further, feet moving quicker than they usually do, backpack heavier than it usually is.

Hongjoong is grateful she has so many friends keeping her busy, but every time she finds she has free time, all she really wants to do is find a way to somehow spend it with Jiwon. Maybe that’s just how relationships are, and Hongjoong finds she doesn’t really mind.

The nervousness is coupled with a sizzling excitement as she waits alone at the train station. No one from her school is headed this way, after all. She holds onto the straps of her backpack tightly as a chilly wind sweeps through her black hair and nips at the skin of her cheeks. March can still be a little cool, but the shine from the sun helps to alleviate some of the shakiness in her body—and it’s always a sign of a good day.

Hongjoong lets the motion of the train rock her body gently with every slow crawl to a stop, and she’s unable to stop glancing at the time on the little screen above the opening and closing doors.

Jiwon had mentioned he joined the basketball club, and with a little bit of prying and snooping, Hongjoong had been able to find out which days of the week he stayed late for practice, all for this surprise she’s been planning.

Ever since Shuhua planted that little seed inside of her brain, Hongjoong couldn’t stop thinking about it. She stayed up later than she should’ve that first night trying to think of what it is she can do to surprise Jiwon—and she also stayed up much later than she should’ve last night putting her plan into action.

When the train reaches the stop before the one she needs to get off at, she unzips her backpack and pulls out a white box, wrapped neatly with a pink ribbon, and clutches it tight over her thighs as her nerves begin to fire up with nervousness again.

It doesn’t help that she’s wearing a different school uniform as she makes her journey forward. There’s still a flock of students from Jiwon’s school around the gated entrance, and she can’t help but feel that everyone is looking at her.

Her fingers curl tightly over the box as her cheeks flush gently from the attention. She realizes she sticks out like a sore thumb, but she pushes forward anyway.

Then, she’s stopped in her tracks by a boy that looks a little bit older than her.

“Are you here to confess to someone?” he asks, his gaze dropping down to the box in her hands.

“N-no…”

His face lights up. “Then, you don’t have a boyfriend?”

Hongjoong hiccups. “I—”

“I think you’re really pretty,” he says, his head dropping like he’s suddenly awkward and shy. “I know you probably go to a different school, but I can definitely make it work!”

Hongjoong shakes her head, a ball of anxiety sitting at the back of her throat like a solid rock. She takes a breath and bows ninety degrees. “I—I’m sorry!” she exclaims before straightening back out with a stern look in her eyes. “I… I have a boyfriend!”

The look on the boy’s face falls, and then he’s taking a lazy step to the side to get out of her way. “Ah, I didn’t realize… Sorry for bothering.”

Somehow, Hongjoong still manages to put on her best smile. “No… it’s okay. I’m very sorry again!” she apologizes before continuing onward. Maybe it’s the blood rushing through her ears, or maybe she’s just too focused on trying to figure out how she’s going to navigate a school she’s never been to trying to find Jiwon, but she completely misses the way the boy behind her swoons at the sight of her smile.

Hongjoong knows that Jiwon’s school is big, but she truly had no idea just how substantial it is until she’s standing at the entrance doors. She eyes the track field where a few students are jogging in their tracksuits and envies the fact that they even have a track field.

“Kim Hongjoong?”

Hongjoong turns at the sound of her name, surprised that anyone even recognizes her here, and then her jaw drops, eyes widening at the sight of someone she hasn’t seen in forever. “K-Kang Yeosang!”

Yeosang waves her over to the side so they’re no longer blocking the entrance, and Hongjoong is thankful for how warm it is in the foyer now that she’s more aware of the gentle stinging on her cheeks.

“I haven’t seen you since you moved away!” Hongjoong says in awe.

Yeosang used to be in her class back in middle school, but she suddenly moved away, and no one ever heard from her again.

The other girl laughs lightly before leaning in like she’s about to tell Hongjoong a secret. “My parents moved to Seoul,” she says, then straightens back out, “but I didn’t really like it here, so I asked to move back for high school.”

“Then, are you…?”

“I’m staying with my grandma!”

“Ohhh,” Hongjoong hums with a nod.

Yeosang tilts her head. “Are you here for someone?”

Hongjoong gulps, head ducking down with shyness. “I-I’m here to visit my boyfriend…”

Yeosang giggles. “Boyfriend?” she teases.

“Y… yes!” Hongjoong exclaims proudly despite the heat in her cheeks. “Do you know where the gymnasium is?”

“Ah, it depends. Does he play volleyball?”

Hongjoong doesn’t believe her ears. It’s amazing they have more than one gymnasium. She shakes her head rapidly. “Basketball!”

“Then it’s in the gymnasium on the right!” Yeosang directs, her finger pointing at the sign hanging in the middle with directions on where to go. “I wish I could take you, but I have to go now. Let’s talk again next time!”

“Y-yes!” Hongjoong says, feeling a lot more confident after meeting someone she knows here. “I’m sure we will see each other lots!”

Yeosang smiles brightly as she makes her way out the school, a hand waving behind her to say goodbye.

Hongjoong turns to face the hallway again, and then her feet are taking her towards the gymnasium Yeosang had pointed her to. There’s the distinct sound of shoes squeaking against floors the closer she gets. Only one door is popped open, held by the stopper at the bottom, so she’s able to peek her head in without disturbing anyone.

People behind her glance at her curiously, but all Hongjoong can focus on is trying to identify which of the students is Jiwon. It shouldn’t be so hard—except it is.

Jiwon isn’t even here.

“Are you looking for someone?”

The sound of a girl’s voice. Hongjoong spins on her heels, caught off guard by how close the person is to her, but she’s more shaken by the fact that the student is almost a head taller than her.

She looks up to meet the girl’s curious eyes, head slightly tilted as though she’s waiting for an answer.

An answer—that’s right, Hongjoong should probably say something. “I’m… I’m looking for Baek Jiwon. Do you know him…?”

The other girl pauses, her expression a little dumb and dopey, then blinks as if she’s trying to put a face to the name. Hongjoong’s about to wave a hand over her face when she suddenly lights up like she’s remembered something. “Oh! I know. I think he left just now?”

Hongjoong scrambles closer, desperate to find Jiwon. “D-do you know where he went?”

The girl blinks, then lifts a finger to point down the hallway. “That way.”

“Thank you!” Hongjoong shouts even though she knows she should have kept an inside voice and bows her head deeply. “Thank you so much!”

The hallway is silent aside from the pitter-patter from the soles of her shoes padding along the floor, especially since most of the students have gone home or separated into different rooms for club or extracurricular activities. She has no idea where she’s going, but she’s confident she’ll find him—maybe at the next turn, or in an empty classroom.

It’s clear she can no longer hide her excitement. Jiwon is so close. They haven’t seen each other since winter break, and Hongjoong has been missing his presence.

Her fingers that grip the box tingle, like the item in her hands has suddenly grown hot, and she can’t wait to see the surprise on his face, the way it’ll light up when he finally notices her, or the embrace of his arms around her after being away from each other for so long.

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t want to think she has a wild imagination. She actually has a very realistic and valid expectation for what’s to come, but maybe it’s due to her age—the naivety, the greenness, the hopefulness, the endless benefit of doubt that she gives—that it hurts more when she turns the corner and finds Jiwon, her boyfriend of six months, pressing another girl into the lockers, his lips tied to hers.

She stares at the scene and it stares right back at her, taunting her, like it wants itself burned to her memory. In the seconds that seem to pass too slowly, Hongjoong feels her entire world fall apart, and the distant hum of the HVAC unit blurs into nothingness until the sound of her own cries is the only thing she hears.

She burns hotter than she does on the most humid days of summers, hotter than her worst fever two years ago, when she was bedridden and melting into the thick comforters her mother had coddled her in after calling her in sick for three days in a row, and when she turns and books it down the hallway where she came from, she chooses to believe the sound of her name being called from behind her is the sound of her own heart breaking.

Her vision blurs as everything around her whips by her, and in the moment she crosses the gymnasium, the girl who had given her the direction to her own heartache catches the startling image of a young girl in tears, neatly-wrapped gift box clutched to her chest, in the tiny frame of the open door.

All of a sudden, the chilliness of an early evening in March feels welcoming. The wind forces her hair away from her face, cheeks exposed as hot, wet tears stream down towards her chin. Hongjoong does not know where she’s going, but when she finally hides herself in the alley between two school buildings, she allows herself the privacy and security to really cry.

She can’t even really find it in herself to care about how the pavement feels on her trembling legs as she drops down to the floor, her face in her hands as wetness spreads across her palms.

Jiwon cheated. He transferred to another school and left Hongjoong behind even though he promised he would do anything to make her happy. He’s kissing another girl when they haven't even kissed yet.

Hongjoong has been nothing but good! He is all she thinks of, he is all she considers, and yet here he is, forgetting all about her in the face of another pretty girl.

She cries and cries and wonders how Jiwon can do something like this when she has been looking forward to seeing him all this time. She remembers when he said she was pretty, how her smile lit up the entire room. She remembers how she felt when he asked her if he could hold her hand for the first time, or how fulfilled she had felt when she gave him chocolates on their one month anniversary.

He used to take the broom from her hands when she was assigned to clean-up duty for the week despite her insistent disapproval. He used to walk her to the corner after school before they had to split their separate ways to go home.

That was the Baek Jiwon she thought she liked. Whoever it is she saw back there in that hallway… that was not anyone she knew, and the realization that she has been taken for a fool only makes her sob harder.

Hongjoong doesn’t know how long she sits there on the cold ground. The skin on her legs now have indents from scattered rocks and the pattern of the concrete kissed into it, but her tears have dried and her sniffles have slowed, and the air has gotten a little colder.

The grey wall of the building in front of her watches as she lifts a hand and presses a knuckle into the corner of one eye to wipe, and then the other. From her periphery, an outline of someone appears around the building, and she scrambles onto her knees quickly, wincing when a sharp rock digs into her skin.

Hongjoong watches curiously as the figure bends to her waist, head lowered with her hands in her jacket pockets as though she’s inspecting the ground carefully. She’s so absorbed in whatever she’s looking for, she doesn’t notice Hongjoong sitting on the ground, shoulders and legs trembling from the cold.

She doesn’t recognize her until she comes a little closer. Her ponytail sways across her shoulder with every movement she makes as she sweeps her vision across the ground. It’s the girl from earlier—the tall one who had caught Hongjoong by the doors to the school gymnasium.

Hongjoong sniffles, and she starts subconsciously skimming her fingertips across the ground, eyes darting from one empty spot on the ground to another. She doesn’t know what she’s looking for—doesn’t even know why she’s helping—but she doesn’t want it to look like she’s been pathetically sobbing in an empty alley between two school buildings for the past half hour.

She isn’t exactly looking wholeheartedly, but her fingers brush upon something by her foot, right outside of her vision, so she turns her body and scoops up the cold, little metallic thing.

She sniffles again. They’re house keys. She inspects it in her open palm and turns it over to look at the little acrylic keychain of an anime character she doesn’t recognize, hooked snug to it.

She closes her fingers around it and looks up at the girl still grazing about, but just when Hongjoong is about to say something, the girl takes notice of her and straightens out.

“Oh,” Hongjoong whispers to herself, humiliated. She distantly wonders what she looks like right now. “Um, I found… Is it yours?” She holds her palm out, the keys nestled in the cup she’s created.

“You found them!” the girl exclaims with a wide smile, exhaling from relief. She strides up to Hongjoong before dropping to a squat in front of her, longer fingers closing around the keys to pluck them out from Hongjoong’s palm. “Thank you, I really thought I lost them forever! My parents would’ve killed me.”

“Y-you’re welcome,” Hongjoong attempts to say, but her words come out cracked and almost a whisper. She clears her throat, then sniffles and turns her face away.

The other girl doesn’t move from her spot, like she’s carefully observing Hongjoong, who begins to feel more and more subconscious under that watchful gaze. Then, Hongjoong hears her ask, “Are you okay?”

Hongjoong musters up all her strength with a deep inhale through her nose, and then she turns around with the brightest smile she can put on her face. “Yes! I’m okay.”

Stunned, the other girl freezes up like she’s been struck with news that’ll flip her entire world upside down; Hongjoong’s smile is so beautiful it has her reeling backward and having to catch herself with a palm on the ground.

“Are… are you sure?” she asks, insecure on how to proceed. “That… you’re okay?”

For some reason, the question is uttered so quietly and tenderly, as though she didn’t want even the shadows around them to witness it, and it makes Hongjoong’s chest swell and overwhelm with emotion, and the sudden stinging in her nose as she tries her best to hold back the whimper makes her feel like she’s drowning.

The other girl, at the sight of Hongjoong breaking down so easily, panics like she’s done something wrong. It’s very obvious that Hongjoong isn’t okay, despite the fact that she hasn’t even given an answer, but the girl still struggles to find something to say.

“H-hey,” she speaks in a hushed tone, turning her head back to see if anyone is passing by and might get the wrong impression, “d-don’t cry. Um, it’s—it’s okay!”

Hongjoong stares at the girl through a blurry vision as fresh tears roll down her cheeks, but the expression of alarm on her face has her sobbing out harder, harder than before, harder than she’s ever sobbed since she was a six and young and fell off of the slide at the playground.

Her cheeks are hot and the neck of her school shirt is starting to feel uncomfortable from how wet it’s gotten from her tears, but she can’t think about anything else when her mind is all fuzzy and disoriented. It feels like her head is being squeezed, her chest tight with how much she’s been hyperventilating, and her hands have grown numb from the exposure to the chilly air.

She’s so overwhelmed by her emotions, she can’t even think about how embarrassing it must be to cry her heart out in front of a complete stranger, but it seems the other girl is too busy trying to figure out what she can do to help alleviate Hongjoong’s sadness to really take notice of anything else.

Within seconds, a packet of tissues is placed into Hongjoong’s hands. She stares down at it, teardrops dripping from her waterline and landing right onto the plastic cover over them, keeping them nice and folded.

A pair of hands come into her vision to rip the packet open before plucking a tissue out. No words are exchanged between them, and yet they both share an understanding. There is no need for words, not when Hongjoong takes the tissue with a shaky hand and a loud sob, and not when the other girl sits back onto her heels silently, her own knees digging into the cold pavement.

Hongjoong goes through the packet tissue by tissue. Every time she dries her cheeks and blows her nose, her sniffles will reduce, and then a new wave will start as if her mind can’t help but to recall the freshness of the pain. Hongjoong pours her sorrow into every breath and every cough until she no longer knows why she still cries, as though she’s crying just to get it all off her chest.

At some point, the other girl changes into a half cross-legged position, her arms hooked around her knees to prevent them from collapsing to the sides. She sits about a metre away, close enough for Hongjoong to feel her presence, but not so close for it to be uncomfortable.

“Please don’t cry anymore,” she finally says now that all that fills the silence is the occasional sniffle.

Hongjoong glances up at her, her eyes rimmed red, lashes clumpy, and bangs matted across her forehead. The skin over her cheeks feel tender in the sweep of the wind, and she realizes the sting must be from how much she’s dried out her skin from the constant rubbing and the cold.

“Sorry,” Hongjoong whispers, her eyes cast downward to avoid the other girl’s gaze.

There’s some gentle shuffling, and Hongjoong only refocuses her vision when something bright and pink, a contrast to the bleak situation she’s found herself in, comes into view. It’s a piece of candy, the wrapper decorated with little strawberries, and it sits enticingly in the middle of a large palm.

With much hesitation, Hongjoong slowly reaches her hand out, the wrapper grazing gently under the touch of her fingertips before she finally picks it out from the other girl’s hand—and with it, her solace.

When Hongjoong’s body trembles, the other girl strips her jacket and lays it over Hongjoong’s figure. When she stares down at the piece of candy for too long, the other girl reaches out and, like she had done with the packet of tissues, unwinds the twisted ends for her, revealing the treat on its crinkly bed, pink and glossy.

“Try it,” she urges quietly and gestures with her hand. “It’s sweet.”

Hongjoong takes it between her fingers and lifts it carefully to her lips, dry and chapped, before slipping it into her mouth. Strawberry-flavoured, but she would have guessed that. It’s sweet, like she had promised, and it’s all Hongjoong needs to refocus her thoughts elsewhere, even if only for a minute.

“Um,” the other girl says now that a real silence finally finds them, “do you… feel better now…?”

Hongjoong lifts her gaze and sniffles, her expression slightly bitter but otherwise neutral for the most part. “A little…”

The other girl shuffles closer, the gesture awkward enough for Hongjoong to pick up on it. “Um, maybe we should… clean that up.”

Hongjoong blinks, then glances down to where the other girl refers to, only to gasp sharply at the sight of blood on her knee. It must have been from earlier, when she had felt something sharp poke at her.

She adjusts how she’s sitting until she’s able to get her legs out from underneath, wincing slightly at the ache in her muscles from having been in the same position for so long, and feels tears start to well up in her eyes when she hastily flicks at the tiny rock embedded into her skin.

The blood around the area has dried, but the deep redness directly over the tiny wound still looks fresh. Hongjoong hiccups and sniffles, and the other girl is beginning to panic thinking she’s going to start crying again.

“Don’t cry, it’s okay! Just a little cut. We can clean that out and slap a bandaid over it and it’ll be fine,” she reassures her in the lightest tone she can muster up, but Hongjoong is already thinking about the possibility of a scar sitting there when it heals with time.

Her mother has always told her to be careful. Girls should never gather scars on their bodies, because people might love them less for it, and they need love to survive in this cruel world. A single tear rolls down her cheeks before she brushes it away with the back of her hand out of heated frustration.

“Where’s the washroom?” she asks, her voice coming out more timid than she wants it to.

“I can take you,” the other girl says, hopping to a squat before straightening out to her full height. Slowly, she reaches a hand out, and carefully, Hongjoong slips her hand into the warmth of the other girl’s palm.

It takes a bit of effort from both girls to get Hongjoong back up on her feet as her legs tremble too much from the lack of blood flow. Before they can take their first step, the girl points a finger down to the ground. “Isn’t that yours?”

Hongjoong watches as she bends at the hip to pick the box off the floor, the contents inside sliding around as she turns it over the right way. The ribbon has been dirtied, and Hongjoong wishes they can leave it there instead, like the garbage it now is.

Well, garbage belongs in the garbage. She will throw it out later.

“What is your name?” Hongjoong asks as she’s led out of the alleyway with an arm around her waist and her own arm slung over the other girl’s shoulder. The angle is a little awkward, but neither of them seem to care when there are more pressing matters at hand.

“Park Seonghwa,” she responds easily, like she’s more focused on the slight limp in Hongjoong’s step.

“I’m—”

“Hongjoong!”

Her head snaps upward, and the colour on her face drains completely at the familiar voice calling her name. They make it just out of the alleyway, and she had been so sure that the school was near empty by now, she didn’t even consider the fact that Jiwon might have been still looking for her.

Why would he be looking for her anyway? Hongjoong is bitter at the thought.

The arm around her waist disappears, and a hand slips into hers instead. Seonghwa pulls her behind her, her torso shielding Hongjoong’s body as rapid footsteps slap against the pavement.

Seonghwa doesn’t say anything, but she watches cautiously as the boy, red in the face and chest heaving with his heavy breaths, tries to peek around Seonghwa’s shoulders, but she moves expertly with him.

“Um,” she says, blinking like the situation seems silly when it really isn’t, “I’m in a bit of a hurry. Can you move?”

“S-Seonghwa-ssi,” Jiwon stammers, his head bowing nervously despite his eyes actively seeking Hongjoong out, “I—I really just need a word with her.”

There’s a slight quiver in Hongjoong’s hands, and Seonghwa must feel it in hers. “Sorry,” she states quickly, not entirely dismissively, but it’s obvious she’s displaying a lack of interest, “we’re in a rush.”

“No, please,” Jiwon begs. “Five—five minutes! No, just—just two minutes! Please…!”

Seonghwa stares at him, unimpressed, and then she tries to make a move to step past him, only to have him jump at the opening.

“Hongjoong! Kim Hongjoong, please, I’m sorry. It wasn’t—it wasn’t anything like that! You’re the one for me, you’ll always be the one for me. I made a mistake a-and—and I realized that I messed up, but I would never do that again,” he rambles, his voice softening with empty promises and honeyed venom.

Hongjoong’s grip loosens in Seonghwa’s hold as she listens to his words, her eyes stinging with the tears she suddenly comes to realize he doesn’t deserve—he’s never deserved.

Jiwon continues, “I’m so sorry. I really—I really, really like you. You’re the sweetest, prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Really, believe me!”

“Can you talk about this another time?” Seonghwa cuts in, evidently irritated. “We’re—”

“No,” Hongjoong’s shaky voice, although small, slices through their brief conversation like a hot knife through butter. They both stop and stare; Seonghwa gazes upon her curiously, and Jiwon, whose eyes widen at the sudden fury that meets his eyes, cautiously takes half a step back.

Hongjoong’s chest is tight with every passing second that she keeps everything in. All her life, she’s been taught to keep her emotions under control, to face every person and every situation with a smile, and to pretend to be oblivious when a threat is imminent.

She’s only sixteen. She knows her mother is only trying to protect her. She’s never once talked back to a friend, never mind her own mother, and she’s never once, not in her entire life, raised her voice at anyone.

For the first time today, she does.

“No, I don’t believe you!” she shouts. Her lower lip quivers and the corners of her eyes grow wet with tears—but they’re no longer out of sadness. Frustration builds and bubbles inside of her, and she’s keenly aware of the fact that there’s probably nowhere for it to go except for out.

The look in her eyes hardens and her eyebrows stitch so low to her eyes, the usage of the muscles there feel unfamiliar. “I… I don’t want to listen to you anymore! You… y-you hurt me, and I don’t want to forgive you! Please leave me alone!”

Like she shouts it for the whole world to hear, the whole world hears. Everything around them grows so silent it’s almost deafening, like time has stopped to witness the moment in which Kim Hongjoong finally feels free enough to speak her mind for the first time.

Hongjoong swallows around the tightness at the back of her throat. “We are breaking up.”

“Wait, Hongjoong, please, I—”

Seonghwa steps between them, but this time, she’s facing Hongjoong, whose head has lowered now that she’s said all that she’s wanted to say. “Let’s go,” she tells her quietly, then gives a gentle tug on her hand.

They leave Baek Jiwon outside to ponder over the consequences of his own actions, and while the journey up the steps to the school entrance is a long one, Hongjoong does not feel the slightest bit compelled to turn her head to look back.

When they arrive to a sink in the nearest girl’s washroom, all Hongjoong can think about is how gently Seonghwa handles her as she scrubs her hands with soap under the water, bends down to a squat with a wet paper towel, and delicately dabs it over her cut to get the dried blood off.

As light fingers work to rip open a bandaid, Hongjoong comes to realize just how liberating it had felt back there, yelling loud enough for the entire school to hear had all the students been in their classrooms. Thinking back on it now, as Seonghwa soothes a hand over the bandaid, she feels a little embarrassed, but she knows in her heart that she’s done the right thing for herself.

“Is it okay?” Seonghwa asks, straightening back out.

Hongjoong tests the mobility in her knee. It actually doesn’t really hurt all that much—she might’ve just been overwhelmed earlier, but the thought of a scar being underneath that bandaid when she uncovers it is still quite depressing.

“It’s good!” she beams.

The heaviness from a breakup weighs on her mind, even though she knows she bears no fault in what had happened. The most she can do is move past it and forget about it, but that’s easier said than done. Her smile falters just a little bit, and Seonghwa catches it quickly.

“You’ll be okay,” she offers, helping Hongjoong out of the washroom. “He sucks at basketball anyway. You should at least date a boy who knows how to play.”

Hongjoong huffs, feeling like she shouldn’t be chastised for her dating choices at sixteen years old. It isn’t like she really knows what she’s doing. This entire time, she’s just been following what her friends do. If they swoon over a boy, Hongjoong finds herself naturally drawn to him, too. If she sees them hand out chocolates and treats on Valentine’s Day, she’s going to do it as well. If they encourage her to start a relationship because someone she likes likes her back, then she’s going to try.

“Whatever,” she grumbles, her gaze drifting towards the box that Seonghwa has picked back up on the bench right outside of the washroom. “Can I have it?”

Seonghwa holds the box out for her. “What is it?”

“They’re cookies… I made them for him, but…”

Hongjoong’s expression tightens up when Seonghwa refuses to let go of the box, and when she looks back up at the other girl’s face, she’s surprised to find her eyes focused intensely on the box sitting in the hold of two pairs of hands.

“Do you want it…?”

Seonghwa, without looking at her, mumbles out, “C-can I…?” She looks as though she’s lost to her own thoughts, like the mere idea of cookies being tossed into the garbage is her own type of heartbreak.

Hongjoong bites back the smile on her lips as she lets go of the box with feigned reluctance, and then they take a seat at the bench together. Her toes wiggle inside her shoes as she watches Seonghwa undo the ribbon quickly, the lid popping off immediately after.

The cookies have crumbled into smaller pieces from being dropped onto the ground, but they still look quite pretty—if Hongjoong squints. It’s such a shame she’s the only one to see them at their full potential, but to Seonghwa, it doesn’t really seem to matter all that much considering it’s food and belongs in the stomach.

Hongjoong clears her throat and holds up a haughty finger, pride spreading across her chest. “They—they still look pretty good, right? They’ll still taste the same once they’re in your mouth. Don’t be too surprised by the taste! Maybe it’s beginner’s luck, but—”

Seonghwa suddenly sputters around a mouthful of a piece of cookie, progressing quickly to aggressive coughing. Alarmed, Hongjoong turns to face her, worried she’s caught a small piece down her throat, only for her heart to drop when she sees Seonghwa spit out the chunks into a garbage can she had pulled forward from its original place next to the bench.

“H-hey! Why’d you spit it out?!”

Seonghwa’s cheeks have grown red with her choking, but when she calms down, she breaks out into a fit of laughter so loud and bright, Hongjoong can’t help but feel awkward reflecting a bit of that grin. She doesn’t know why she’s smiling. Can it be that Seonghwa’s laughter is infectious?

“They’re salty! You put salt in it!” Seonghwa manages to get out between her laughing. She giggles and laughs so hard she has to clutch her stomach from the way it hurts.

Hongjoong flusters with shame. “W-what…! That’s impossible!” She reaches quickly for a tiny piece and holds it up to eye level to inspect it carefully. It looks alright. It feels alright. She pops it into her mouth, and the two wait in rigid silence before Hongjoong spits it out of her mouth while choking over her own coughing.

Tears sting her eyes at their corners as she pushes the box of cookies away from her, cheeks flushed while trying to catch her breath. Hot and sizzling humiliation settles upon her skin as Seonghwa doubles down in laughter over Hongjoon’s revulsive reaction to her own baked goods.

“Wh… why are you laughing?! It’s not funny!” Hongjoong spews, clearly upset by how hard Seonghwa laughs at the situation, her feet kicking and the bottoms of her shoes tapping against the floor.

“It’s funny!” Seonghwa manages between her cackling. She lifts a hand and wipes a stray tear from her eye as her laughter slows to little sniffles and the occasional throat clearing.

Hongjoong pouts with weighted eyebrows as she fumes petulantly in silence. She doesn’t know why she’s so upset about someone she just met not liking her cookies, even though they are effectively abhorrent.

“You’re being mean,” Hongjoong grumbles, her foot kicking into the floor like she wants to throw a tantrum but is too embarrassed to actually go through with it. It’s not like she’s familiar with what throwing a tantrum feels like, but she imagines it can feel quite rewarding when she’s frustrated—especially like earlier, when she had gotten all of that off her chest outside. She thinks that might constitute a tantrum.

“I’m not!” Seonghwa objects, but when Hongjoong glares at her with glossy eyes, she curls her shoulder in and winces. “Okay, sorry. Just… maybe taste it next time.”

“W-well, maybe I meant to add salt!” Hongjoong retorts, her chin lifting higher as a display of feigned assurance. “May—maybe, I wanted them to be so disgusting, it would… it would…!”

“What?” Seonghwa asks, scoffing. “Kill him?”

“Y-yeah!”

Seonghwa bursts out laughing again, except this time, Hongjoong can’t help the little giggle that escapes her own lips. She imagines Jiwon taking a bite out of a cookie, his face twisting into a grimace as he spits and sputters and chokes over the crumbs. She thinks about what she’d say if she were truly evil like that. Would she have cursed for the first time, too? Would she have thrown the box at him and called him a cheater?

A small grin sits on her face, her thoughts growing sillier with every passing second. Seonghwa has stopped laughing and is digging through the box of cookies for something, and when Hongjoong hears her gasp, she looks up to see that the other girl has pulled out a couple pieces of paper that Hongjoong rolls her eyes at.

“Really?” Seonghwa gawks. “Godzilla tickets? I’ve been dying to see this movie!”

Hongjoong snorts, a little sad that she had even gotten them for Jiwon in the first place. “You can have them.”

“Ah, but…” Seonghwa pauses and takes the side of her bottom lip between her teeth as though she’s contemplating something, “I don’t have anyone to go with.”

Hongjoong blinks curiously. “Is it not a movie you can watch alone…?”

Seonghwa sputters, “O-of course, I can watch it alone…! I just think that it’s such a waste of a ticket. You bought two.” She holds them to her chest as the gears in her head turn, and then she’s holding a singular ticket out towards Hongjoong. “Why don’t you take it? Just in case you want to go. I don’t know what to do with both of them.”

Hongjoong regards the movie ticket for a moment before gingerly picking it out from between Seonghwa’s fingers. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

There’s the distinct sound of heels clacking against the floors growing louder and louder, and they both turn towards the direction it’s coming from before someone rounds the corner.

“Seonghwa-ssi? What are you still doing here?”

“Seonsaeng-nim!” Seonghwa exclaims, standing up straight to bow her head.

Hongjoong’s gaze flickers between the two of them before she’s also getting up, albeit awkwardly, and dipping her head down.

Seonghwa rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. “Sorry, had a bit of a situation after club stuff,” she answers vaguely and bows her head again when the teacher walks past them.

“Okay, don’t get home too late, now! See you on Monday,” she says while waving at them on the way out.

Seonghwa calls out with a bright smile and a wave of her arm, “Have a goodnight!”

Hongjoong looks back at Seonghwa. “Is that your teacher?”

“My English teacher,” Seonghwa replies while packing up the box of cookies. She stares down at them as a drawn out hum sounds from her lips, and then she holds it out for Hongjoong. “D-did you wanna…?”

Hongjoong shakes her head, so Seonghwa turns around and throws the entire thing into the garbage can, and then they get up from the bench. Her knee stings when she straightens out her legs, but it’s nothing she can’t tolerate. She unhooks the jacket Seonghwa had given her off of her shoulders, but Seonghwa reaches out to help her put it on properly instead.

“It’s cold now. If we see each other at the movies tomorrow, you can return it to me!” she chirps with a wide, reassuring smile, making sure to zip her all the way up to the neck, but Hongjoong’s lips turn downward at the gesture.

She stares at Seonghwa’s school uniform under the fluorescent lighting of the school and thinks it looks rather pretty on her. “But… what about you?”

Seonghwa dismisses her concern casually. “It’s okay, I have another jacket in my locker.”

“Ah, I see…” she states quietly. Hongjoong glances awkwardly at Seonghwa, both of her hands curled around the straps of her backpack.

“Um,” Hongjoong starts, “it was nice to meet you, then, and…um, thank you.”

Seonghwa grins. “Thank you for helping me find my house keys.”

Hongjoong shifts her weight onto the other leg, and then she bows her head in farewell. “I’m… gonna get going now.”

“Okay, have a goodnight,” Seonghwa tells her with a warm smile.

The trek to the train station is one filled with silence. The area the school is in is rather popular, but Hongjoong has long since drowned out all the street noise of strangers’ conversations and engine hums. The ride home is even quieter, except this time, Hongjoong is drowning in her own thoughts with nothing to distract her.

On Monday, she’ll have to go back to school and act like nothing happened. She wonders what kind of expression she’ll be making if her friends ask her how her date went. Would she be able to keep her face neutral? Will she really have to tell them and have them pity her?

For some reason, she doesn’t want anyone to know. There’s an odd sensation of shame and humiliation that wells up inside of her and she doesn’t know why. She didn’t even do anything wrong, did she?

The feeling doesn’t go away even as she enters her home, shoulders weighted and feet heavy like stone as she drags herself down to the kitchen, where her mother is setting the table for dinner. She makes sure to take Seonghwa’s jacket off in the hallway before stepping further into the home.

“Oh! Just in time,” she exclaims as she rounds the table with a steaming bowl of stew. “How was studying?”

Hongjoong bites down on her tongue bitterly. She never told her mother she’s always hanging out with her friends after school, let alone dating anyone. With a heavy heart, she drops her backpack by the foot of her chair before sitting down.

She gives her mother a bright smile. “It was good! I got a lot done today.”

Her mother snorts before taking the seat across from her. “You always say that, but I know you’re just going to study more after you shower.”

Hongjoong’s smile falters as she stares down at her bowl of hot rice. Her chopsticks are cold in her hand when she picks them up and thanks her mother for the food.

Her mother tells her a little bit about her day before asking Hongjoong about hers. It’s a very familiar routine they’ve built ever since she separated from Hongjoong’s father. Hongjoong only wishes the life lessons didn’t have to come with them.

“And so you know,” her mother continues, swallowing around a piece of tofu, “that’s why you should try to wake up early on the weekends too. It’s important to keep a consistent sleep schedule.”

Hongjoong keeps her eyes lowered and chews slowly on her rice as she listens halfheartedly to her mother.

“I found flour on the counters this morning.” Hongjoong’s head snaps up, her throat running dry at the possible implication behind her mother’s words. “Were you baking last night?”

Hongjoong swallows around the tightness. “Um, f-for my friends,” she answers with a nervous laughter she hopes will lighten the mood.

Her mother observes her quietly for a while, then sighs. “You know, you mention your friends a lot, but you never bring them around. If it’s for a boy, just be honest, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong doesn’t know what to say to that, so she stays silent. After a brief pause, her mother speaks up again, the clatter of her chopsticks stark in the quietness when she sets them down. “Kim Hongjoong.”

“It’s not!”

Hongjoong doesn’t know why she snaps—she’s never snapped at anyone before, much less her own mother. Perhaps it’s only now catching up to her—the realization that she’s had her heart broken for the first time, and even though Seonghwa had been there to help distract her, it doesn’t take away from the effect it leaves on Hongjoong.

Stressed, upset, and unwilling to level with it head-on, she bites her tongue as frustration bubbles within her body. Then, meekly, she apologizes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

This time, when her mother speaks, her tone is softer, kinder, “Your friends—I’d love to meet some of them someday.”

Hongjoong retires to her room at the end of the night feeling more exhausted than she’s ever felt in her life. When her head hits the pillow after turning her nightstand lamp off, the tears come right away.

She has already cried so much today, she doesn’t know why she has to cry again. She wonders what she’s done in her life to deserve what had happened today. All she’s been is good, all she’s ever done her whole life is try to make people happy.

Her mother wants her to do well in school, so she studies hard. Her friends want her to spend time with her doing this and that, and she agrees without even a second thought. She remembers the mild disappointment on Momo’s face when she had asked Hongjoong to hang out today, and wishes she had gone with her to the night market instead. Maybe, then, what happened today wouldn’t have happened.

Then, she recalls her mother’s words. It’s a thought that echoes in Hongjoong’s brain as she lays in her bed that night. While it’s true she does often talk about her friends when her mother asks her about her day, she never has invited any of them over.

Just last week, she overheard Soojin and Miyeon talking about a sleepover they had right before the start of the school year. She turns onto her side and imagines her friends laying on a spread out futon on the floor next to her bed, then wonders why it somehow doesn’t feel right.

Kim Hongjoong stares at the movie ticket in her hand. It’s a little nicer today than it had been yesterday. She distinctly remembers the sun being warm on her skin on the way to Jiwon’s school, but it had turned grey and cloudy by the time she left. The weather must’ve soured with her circumstances.

A gentle breeze skirts through the ends of her hair when she lifts her eyes to gaze through the transparency of the cinema doors. Inside, bright lights from the arcade blink and flash vividly, enticing people in as they pass by. She’s never gone to the movies alone before. The last time she had come here, she had been with her mother, who had taken her to see ‘A Dog’s Purpose’, where she had bawled her eyes out despite the silence in the theatre.

At least it isn’t a sad movie she’ll be watching today.

Hongjoong trudges up the steps to the entrance. She hadn’t wanted to come initially, but the thought of Seonghwa expecting to see her and not finding her there bugged her all morning. It must also be from the comment she made about wasting a ticket. Hongjoong did take money from her savings for them. It’s worse, too, because Hongjoong still needs to return her jacket, and she doesn’t know if she’s ever going to get the chance again.

She decides she isn’t here because she actually wants to be, even when the buttery aroma of popcorn fills her nostrils with her deep inhales, and even when someone passes by with a little box of squid and cuttlefish pieces. She tears her gaze away from their food and instead looks to the concessions stand to see that a line is slowly beginning to form with moviegoers, so she quickly makes her way over.

She’s so busy trying to tuck her ticket back inside her backpack, puffed full from Seonghwa’s jacket being stuffed into there, she accidentally collides with someone, and the impact is hard enough to make her stumble backwards and lose her footing in the process.

A hand closes around her wrist at the last second, and she’s propelled back onto steady feet. She’s so flustered she begins apologizing profusely without even taking a glance at the stranger’s face.

“Hey—hey! It’s okay! A-are you okay…?”

Hongjoong lifts her head, regret colouring her face, only to be met with a familiar pair of eyes, worried lines etching into her forehead.

“S-Seonghwa-ssi…” Hongjoong whispers, surprised. She already knew she’d meet Seonghwa here since their seats are reserved right next to each other, but she didn’t exactly plan on meeting like this.

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong says before the other girl can say anything. “I wasn’t looking at where I was going… I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

“It’s fine,” Seonghwa tells her and shoves her hands into her hoodie pockets. “Just glad you’re okay.”

Hongjoong disguises her clumsiness with forced laughter, but it drifts off when she realizes she doesn’t have anything else to say. Overcome with her intense dislike for awkward silences, she tries to think of something—anything—to say.

“D-do you like popcorn? I love popcorn. It’s—it’s really the best movie snack! Are you, um, getting popcorn? ‘Cause I’m gonna get some popcorn, haha!” she rambles with frenzy, instinctually leading them towards the line for concession.

“Uh… yeah! I—I love popcorn too!” Seonghwa attempts a grin, but when it’s coupled with her nervous laughter, Hongjoong feels her face flush out of embarrassment from her tense babbling. She distracts herself quickly by swinging her backpack to the side, unzipping it, and pulling Seonghwa’s jacket out.

“H-here,” she says, pressing the fabric into the other girl’s hands. “Um, thank you—for letting me borrow it.”

Seonghwa clutches onto her jacket tightly. “Really, it’s no problem…” She waits for Hongjoong to get her backpack on properly before suggesting, “Why don’t we just get one large popcorn to share? It would be cheaper, I think.”

“Oh! Good idea!” Hongjoong beams as her expression lights up vividly. Seonghwa blinks, dumbfounded by how quickly the smaller girl’s attitude is able to change.

It’s like a switch flips; Hongjoong is suddenly talking about what drink tastes best with popcorn, and that she loves a lot of butter on her popcorn. A couple of minutes ago, there had been a lingering awkwardness between them, and now, Seonghwa is having her ear talked off about anything and everything that comes to Hongjoong’s mind.

“Oooh! Do you want a hotdog too?” Seonghwa’s stomach grumbles, and Hongjoong giggles at the sound. “Seonghwa-ssi, do you like hotdogs?”

As though the other girl has been caught in trance, swallowing harshly from the way she salivates, Hongjoong turns back around and steps up to the concession stand now that they’re next in line to order.

“Two hotdogs, please! And one large popcorn. Please, can you put extra butter on it?” Hongjoong asks with a wide smile. “Oh! And two fountain drinks!”

As Hongjoong reaches to unzip her backpack, she is surprised by the bit of cash thrusted forward from next to her, and when she looks back, she traces it to Seonghwa, who urges the older woman behind the cash register to take it.

“I will pay for it,” Seonghwa offers, “since you bought the tickets.”

The two girls stand off to the side as they watch the hotdogs rotate slowly on the roller stand. Hongjoong salivates while mumbling out, “Looks delicious…”

Seonghwa hums with an aggressive nod, then swallows down the gathered spit in her mouth. It’s clear that neither of them have had anything to eat yet. Hongjoong had woken up late despite her mother’s lecture the previous night about keeping a consistent sleep schedule, and Seonghwa had accidentally stayed up a little too late at the PC bang playing video games on her Friday night.

When they get their hotdogs, the first thing they do is take a bite. Seonghwa pauses mid-chew to point and giggle at the crumb on the corner of Hongjoong’s lips, and Hongjoong flushes beet red before going to wipe at it with the back of her hand.

Hongjoong fills their drinks while Seonghwa somehow manages to hold everything else as she waits, and then they head towards their theatre after scanning their tickets in.

There’s a silence that settles upon them after they get comfortable in their seats, but it’s not awkward. Hongjoong actually thinks it’s a little odd how comfortable she feels sitting next to someone she had met less than twenty-four hours ago. Maybe it’s because Seonghwa watched her cry, or because Seonghwa got to taste how absolutely appalling the cookies she bragged about were, but she knows that if it’s Jiwon sitting there right now, she won’t be able to sit the way she’s sitting now, shoulders relaxed and head leaned back.

The movie begins, and Hongjoong melts into her seat, her mind overworked.

The thought of it is almost horrific. If it’s not Seonghwa sitting next to her but Jiwon, her back would be as straight as the hair that falls down her back, even though no one watches a movie like they’re sitting in a class with the strictest teacher in the country. She’d be wearing a constant smile on her face, and even if smiling comes naturally to her, she imagines the muscles holding it up would grow weak and sore with time.

Jiwon might ask her afterward what she thinks of the movie, and she’d have to smile and laugh and pretend like she loved it. Truthfully, Hongjoong doesn’t love movies like these. She also thinks Seonghwa enjoys the movie much more than she expected her to.

For a lot of the time, Hongjoong finds herself drawn to the expressions Seonghwa makes instead, gasping when something crazy happens, pouting when she’s disappointed, laughing when she finds something funny.

It’s just so fascinating watching her.

“Did you like it?” Seonghwa asks when the movie finally ends. “The part where he goes pwah! Fwooh! Whoosh! That was awesome!”

Hongjoong giggles at the other girl’s reenactment and smiles, but it isn’t forced. “Not really, but it’s okay!”

Seonghwa’s expression grows puzzled. “What? Why did you get tickets to it then?”

“Mm,” Hongjoong hums, a little upset by the reminder, “Jiwon wanted to see it… I just thought it’d make him happy.”

“I see…” Seonghwa answers quietly with a nod. “I think, next time, you should get tickets to a movie that you want to see.”

Hongjoong gets up when Seonghwa gets up. “Yeah…” she replies, gathering all their garbage into her hands to toss away on the way out. They stop by the washroom briefly to wash their hands, and then fresh air finally greets them when they step outside.

She supposes this is where they part ways, but Seonghwa has other plans. The other girl turns to look at her. “So? What movie would you watch?”

Hongjoong laughs nervously and tucks a strand of her black hair behind her ears. “I-I don’t know… I never really thought about it.”

“What about, like, a genre? Don’t you have a type of movie you like to watch?” 

Nervousness eats away at Hongjoong’s mind as she tries to think of how to answer that question. “Not really…”

“What? How is that possible?”

Hongjoong huffs gently through her nostrils, like she can’t help it but also doesn’t want anyone around her to hear. “I don’t know,” she whines, pouting. “I just watch whatever my mom wants to watch and—a-and I just go to whatever movie my friends want to see…”

Seonghwa blinks like she needs to take some time to digest what Hongjoong just said, but then she turns around and takes a deep breath before changing the topic of their conversation. “Are you thirsty?”

“Um, well, I—”

“There’s this new cafe that opened up. I’ve been wanting to check it out, wanna come? I’ll pay!”

Hongjoong observes Seonghwa’s grinning face quietly, and then she offers her own little smile.

Sunlight filters through the windows of the moving train. She doesn’t know where it is, but she lets Seonghwa guide her anyway. When she gets up, Hongjoong gets up. When she steps out onto the platform, Hongjoong follows suit. When Seonghwa takes the lead and begins walking, Hongjoong pretends like she’s stepping in the invisible footsteps the other girl leaves behind for her.

Warm, brown sugar and sticky honey greets their senses when Seonghwa swings that door open for her, and Hongjoong is immediately awestruck by its interior. It’s lit with yellow lights, making the tannish wallpaper look a little darker than what it probably is. The spots of green from live plants scattered around—on top of a couple tables, hanging in the corners, a tiny plotted one by the cash register—gives the place a pop of colour, and, really, it’s all the colour it needs to liven the place up.

Two girls behind the counter greet them jovially as they enter, but then their eyes are widening and lips are pulling into a wider stretch as they look past Hongjoong to Seonghwa.

Hongjoong turns her body halfway just in time to see Seonghwa lift a hand in greeting, surprise evident across her features. “Minjeong, Ningning! I didn’t know you guys work here!”

Hongjoong takes a step back and watches as Seonghwa strides up to the counter to easily strike up an immediate conversation with the girls. They seem very familiar with each other, the way Seonghwa smiles and laughs in harmony with the two other girls.

“Well, Ningning here picked up a part-time after she got that boyfriend,” Minjeong teases with a bump of her hip into the other girl’s side. “I’m working ‘cause I’m bored.”

“What a lie,” Ningning sings with a roll of her eyes. “You’re here for the free drinks.”

Seonghwa’s laughter is bright. “I would totally be too!” she exclaims, then turns to look at Hongjoong, whose entire body heats up under her gaze and attention, as though she has been perceiving a scene that she knows she has no part in.

Seonghwa lifts a hand and gestures to Hongjoong, who turns to look at the other girls, only to find them staring back at her. “This is Hongjoong! She’s my friend,” Seonghwa introduces.

Friend.

“Nice to meet you!” Ningning calls out with a wave of her hand.

Hongjoong takes a small, hesitant step forward. “N-nice to meet you…” she answers, suddenly shy.

“Did you guys want to try anything today?” Minjeong asks while reaching for the stand-up menu on the counter. She tilts it a little so she can see it as well. “This one is really good! Oh, this one too, but my favourite one is actually this mango passionfruit green tea!”

“I like the strawberry latte! Add some coconut jelly and it literally tastes like you’re on a beach in Hawaii,” Ningning persuades and nods matter-of-factly.

“You’ve been to Hawaii?” Hongjoong asks in awe, but then Ningning sputters with a laugh.

“No, I wish! I just think that’s what it’ll taste like,” she jokes.

Seonghwa does end up getting a taste of Hawaii, whereas Hongjoong settles for a classic milk tea after she asks if they can make it decaffeinated. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she can hear chastising words in her mother’s voice about having so much caffeine. She already had tea this morning, and now that it’s almost past three o’clock in the afternoon, she knows it’s a little too late to have any more.

Hongjoong sips slowly at her drink, her gaze lifting whenever the chime above the door rings with every new patron. Then, she lets it fall onto Seonghwa, who sips her drink through a straw so fast, she’s surprised she hasn’t choked.

“You know,” Hongjoong grumbles, “you can drink a little slower, right?”

Seonghwa blinks at her, then pops her lips off the straw. “But it tastes good.”

“You’re going to choke!” Hongjoong scolds with a twist of her lips, like she wants to frown except it ends up looking like a pout instead. “The drink is not going to run away.”

Seonghwa laughs, and there’s a crinkle in her eyes that Hongjoong hasn’t noticed there before. “I think you’re really funny.”

“W-what…!” Hongjoong flushes, her eyebrows anchoring deep with the realization that Seonghwa might be teasing her. “I’m being serious…!”

Seonghwa continues to cackle, so Hongjoong goes for her drink with nothing else to say or do, but it must be a mistake to drink when she’s flustered, because she ends up choking on a tapioca pearl. Seonghwa’s eyes widen for just a second until she realizes Hongjoong is okay, and Hongjoong, in the back of her mind, wonders if Seonghwa is capable of doing anything else except for laughing at her.

Her nose stings and her eyes water, and she’s scrambling for the napkin that had come with her drink as she coughs into it. Liquid from her drink dribbles down her chin as she dabs away at it, and then she realizes that she has spilled onto her shirt.

What is so funny? Why is Seonghwa always laughing at her misfortunes? First, it had been over her cookies, and now she’s making fun of the spill Hongjoong has made all over her, and this is her favourite shirt, too!

She wills the tears away as she pats at the milk tea stains that have now darkened her white shirt. It’s a silly thing to cry about, she knows, but she still can’t help but feel somewhat hurt by it.

“It’s okay,” Seonghwa suddenly tells her, causing her head to snap upward. The girl is surprised to see the spot of redness at the tip of her nose. “Oh, c’mon, don’t cry! It’ll wash out.”

“B-but…” Hongjoong sniffles, “it’s embarrassing.”

Seonghwa lifts her jacket—the one Hongjoong had taken home yesterday and brought out today to return to her—and slides it across the table. “You have this.”

Hesitantly, Hongjoong reaches for it. “Is it okay…?”

“Of course! It’s just a jacket. It’s kind of big on you, but oversize is trendy right now,” Seonghwa tells her, then urges her jacket further into Hongjoong’s grip that closes around the fabric a little more confidently now.

Hongjoong sniffles again. “Thank you…” she whispers before layering the jacket over her back and shoulders, shielding the stain from everyone else’s eyes. She feels a little more protected knowing she and Seonghwa are the only ones to know it’s even there.

That night when Hongjoong goes to sleep, she can’t help but let her thoughts drift back to the moment they had met, just a little over a full day ago, when Seonghwa had crouched down in front of her and handed her a pack of tissues. She’s so familiar with Seonghwa’s cheeky grin now, but she can’t remember it on her face at that time.

At least, when Hongjoong was crying in that little narrow alley, Seonghwa did not laugh at her.

When Monday morning comes, Hongjoong has to drag herself out of bed. She had dreaded the ring of her alarm this morning, and she had trouble falling asleep the night before, her mind too troubled by all the scenarios she might find herself in.

The skies are bleak and gloomy today, blanketed by grey clouds that threaten a chance of rain. She catches the forecast on the television just as she’s slipping her shoes on, but the front door shuts behind her just as the announcer’s voice warns of rain in the later hours of the day.

Hongjoong arrives at school early, but it does nothing to curb her thoughts, solemn as the weather, dark as the pavement under her feet deprived of the sunshine it craves. She finds her desk in her homeroom and sets her head down on the table, but there’s a constant aching nag in her mind that is unyielding.

It doesn’t go away, not even as students begin to fill up the room, not even when her friends greet her, and it overwhelms her completely when Shuhua asks her how her date went with Jiwon.

Very bitterly, Hongjoong lies through her teeth. She tells them of the cookies she made and how much he loved them like she’s recounting a scene from a book she’s never even read. Their movie date went exceptionally well, and Hongjoong is able to reenact it poorly with how she remembers Seonghwa’s sound effects to be. Truthfully, she still has no idea what Seonghwa was talking about.

“That sounds so fun,” Shuhua speaks dreamily, her hands clasped together like she’s imagining her own make-believe boyfriend doing all those things for her. “Oh yeah! Minnie has a practice match today and she wants us to come. Are you able to make it?”

“Already?” Hongjoong ponders. It’s only been a couple of weeks since school started, but it feels like everything is moving too fast for her brain to catch up with. Distantly, she wonders if Seonghwa has basketball games this early as well.

“Yesss! Please come, I need you to help me find a boyfriend too!” Shuhua pouts with her begging, only for Hongjoong’s smile to falter. She’s able to catch herself just in time to respond with a grin and an overly excited nod.

She can’t tell her she’s broken up with Jiwon. It’ll be so embarrassing, and she also doesn’t want to think about it more than she already has to. Unfortunately, it sticks to her mind all day.

When lunch comes, the banana milk sitting on another classmate’s desk reminds her of when Jiwon used to surprise her with them back in middle school. When the teacher mentions the breakup of molecules during chemistry class, Hongjoong visibly tenses at the word breakup.

When the time for the last bell finally rolls around, Hongjoong’s legs feel heavy at the sight of another girl waiting outside their classroom, a box neatly wrapped with a ribbon in her hands as she awaits the boy of her love confessions to come out.

She tries her best not to think about how it’s going to unfold when the boy beams brightly at the chocolates inside and gives her a shy smile afterward. She swallows around the dryness in her throat and meets her friends just outside the entrance doors of her school, waving her over excitedly.

They arrive at the train station together and have to get off at another one to catch a different line, but Hongjoong’s thoughts are so far away from where she actually is, she doesn’t even know how long she’s been mindlessly following her friends for.

“Hey! Aren’t those the girls you’re playing against next week?” Soyeon asks while patting Minnie on the back. They all turn to glance at a group of girls further down the platform.

Then, Hongjoong sees her. Seonghwa, with her long, black hair tied into a neat ponytail, her school bag slung over one shoulder as she mingles with them. Her school uniform is exactly the same as Seonghwa last remembers, but this time she has a warm, grey cardigan over it. The other girls’ uniforms are distinctly different, though. Hongjoong wonders just exactly how popular Seonghwa must be to know so many people from different schools.

Her breath catches at the back of her throat when Seonghwa stops laughing at something someone said and looks up, straight into Hongjoong’s eyes. They both freeze, like they don’t expect to see each other here, but then Seonghwa is smiling and giving a wave.

“Is she waving to you?” Soyeon nudges into Hongjoong’s side without looking away.

A nervous laugh escapes Hongjoong’s lips as she gives a timid wave back. The first time had been a coincidence, the second time an unplanned plan, but the third time, this time, is just strange! It isn’t like their schools are near each other. Seonghwa doesn’t even go to the same school as those girls standing next to her, and yet here they are, seeing each other three times in the span of less than a week.

The train comes before any of her friends can say anything else, and then she’s being ushered on. She manages to catch one last glance at Seonghwa getting onto a different cart before she’s forced to find a seat with her friends.

“Is that someone you met when you went to visit Jiwon?” Shuhua asks, turning to latch onto Hongjoong’s arm. Yuqi sits on her other side, curious as well about where Hongjoong met a girl from another school.

“Ah… ahaha, yes!” Hongjoong manages through her overly ambitious laugh. She fixes her hair just to find something to do with her hands.

“She’s so tall!” Miyeon says from across from her, her stretched legs pulling back in when someone tries to get through to the doors. “Do you think she plays too?”

“Ough,” Minnie groans with a puff of her breath, “if she does, then I don’t wanna play against her school…”

“How old is she?” Yuqi asks. “Is she our age?”

Hongjoong blinks at the question. She’s never even asked Seonghwa how old she is. Her expression darkens with a frown. Why hasn’t she asked? What if she’s older than Hongjoong, and she just hasn’t realized this whole time?

“Is something wrong?”

Hongjoong startles out of her thoughts and glances at her friends, then shakes her head with another nervous bout of laughter. “N-no! No, everything—everything is good, I, um, I’m not sure…”

“Silly,” Shuhua says, leaning forward to look at Yuqi, “they met last week!”

Yuqi sticks her tongue out in defiance, and Hongjoong finds that she has drowned the conversation out and that her eyes have trailed towards the back of the cart. There’s nothing to see, but she pretends, anyway, that Seonghwa is sitting right there with her friends, laughing over something funny someone said.

She imagines Seonghwa turns and looks at her and gives her that little wave she had given back on the train platform. Hongjoong wonders why she had felt so nervous back there. Actually, she still feels pretty nervous.

It doesn’t go away, because when they get off the train, Seonghwa and her friends get off too. Then, they go in the same direction, up the same path to the same school, and through the exact same doors. Hongjoong has to try her best to not look behind her because why would she? Seonghwa is with her friends and Hongjoong is with her own group of friends, and it’s not like they’re walking close enough to each other for them to make casual conversation.

Can Hongjoong even continue to talk casually with her? Seonghwa could be in her second year—god forbid even her third year. Does Seonghwa know that Hongjoong’s only in her first year?

She reckons Seonghwa can probably assume. She’s already somewhat familiar with Jiwon, and, not to mention, she had been the only one to witness the end of Hongjoong’s first relationship.

Hongjoong catches her sigh just before it slips out. The sounds of squeaky shoes pierce her ears when they reach the gymnasium, and then she tosses a look over her shoulder, already expecting Seonghwa to be there. She must’ve come to watch the game, too.

They find an empty spot on the bleachers, not too high up, but not too close either, and Seonghwa and her friends don’t sit far from them as well—just a couple of rows in front of them, a little further to the right; all Hongjoong has to do is roll her eyes that way. She doesn’t even have to turn her head.

Hongjoong doesn’t know much about basketball—she doesn’t know much about sports in general, just that she really hates being marked for how high she can jump or how far she can reach past her toes—so the only thing she can really focus on is Minnie as she does her little warmups with her other club members.

Her ears twitch when she hears an unmistakable laugh, but she does her best not to look because she knows Seonghwa won’t be looking at her. Instead, she does her best to watch intently as the match is about to start, and a whistle is blown before a basketball is tossed into the air.

She doesn’t understand the rules but she claps when her friends do and pouts when her friends groan. A ball through the hoop on this side is a good thing, a score on the other is bad. She can recognize that, and she can recognize that all eyes are on Minnie if she has the ball.

Unfortunately, Shuhua looks away for just a split second.

“Isn’t that Jiwon?”

The sound of the name is like a splash of ice-cold water on Hongjoong’s face. The colour drains fully from her cheeks and her shoulders stiffen up so tensely, it forces a ripple of shock through her spine.

“That is!” Shuhua shouts from next to her, hands patting rapidly at Hongjoong’s thigh. “He’s—he’s with another girl!”

Hongjoong wishes she didn’t have to look, but she just can’t help it. Her eyes find Jiwon almost immediately, and then the girl sitting beside him, pressed so close their thighs are taped along each other.

“Hongjoong?” Yuqi asks, turning around to look at her with heavy concern in her eyes. All the girls have turned to focus their attention on her rather than the game now, and Hongjoong doesn’t know what to do anymore with the pitying glances and their display of worry.

She doesn’t even notice the wetness on her cheeks until Miyeon is pulling her into an embrace on her other side. Hongjoong doesn’t move, frozen like she’s morphed to stone, even as arms come up to shield her.

The back of Jiwon’s head bounces with every turn of his head as his eyes trace the ball, and then Hongjoong watches him say something to the girl and laugh. She doesn’t know what she expected from him. She had caught him cheating, they’re no longer dating, and still, she wishes he could have at least meant some of what he said when he begged for her back outside of his own school.

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong chokes out, her hand flying up to her face to clear her cheeks of any tears before scrambling up onto her feet, “I’m gonna go to the washroom.”

She stumbles as she haphazardly swings her legs over the bleachers to find the quickest way out, and she completely misses the way Seonghwa, just a few seats away, stares at her as she runs down the stairs and out the gymnasium doors.

A couple of girls are lingering in the washroom when Hongjoong steps inside, head ducked as her hands push against the door to an empty stall, locking herself inside immediately. She hates crying in front of people, but she can’t help letting her tears fall silently as she stands there on shaky legs with clenched fists trembling by her sides.

She hates that she lied to her friends, only for them to find out in this way. She told them about how amazing their date went, when, in reality, they had broken up instead. Her mind is tormented by the thoughts of her friends upset at her for lying to them, and suddenly, she can’t stand to be here anymore.

She doesn’t want her friends to see her—to find her. She wants to go home.

“Hongjoong?” she hears Shuhua’s voice.

There’s the scuffle from shoes sliding against the floor tiles before Soyeon calls out, “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

Hongjoong takes a deep breath. She knows they know she’s here. She doesn’t really have anywhere to go now. She blinks, and tears drop from her waterline and splash to the floor by her shoes, and then she reaches a shaky hand up to click the lock free on the stall door before inching it open slowly.

“Oh, Hongjoong,” Soyeon sighs out. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong whispers.

Yuqi steps a little closer to take Hongjoong’s hand into hers, leading her out of the stall. “Are you okay…?”

“It’s okay,” Hongjoong repeats quietly.

“Ugh, how can he do this…!” Shuhua mumbles, stomping her foot petulantly.

Hongjoong’s tears have slowed now, but it doesn’t make it any less hard for her to talk. When she lifts her gaze, all eyes are on her, and when she can’t take it anymore, she lets it drop back to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her heart thumping wildly inside of her chest. “I lied to you guys.”

Yuqi’s head tilts. “What do you mean?”

Hongjoong swallows dryly, feeling like she wants to hiccup but nothing comes out. “We broke up… We didn’t—d-didn’t go… on that date,” she whispers, but her tears come throughout her explanation, words growing more choked up and harder to understand. “W-we didn’t… w’re not… together anymore…”

Soyeon pulls her into another hug, and this time, Hongjoong lets her rest her cheek on her friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she tells Hongjoong confidently. “I know we’ve all only known each other since middle school, but we’ll always be here for you.”

“Yeah!” Shuhua calls out. “Don’t worry about him anyway, he wasn’t even that handsome!”

Yuqi agrees. “You deserve so much better, Hongjoong-ah.”

“Should we go beat him up?” Miyeon asks, and it ignites a flutter of giggles from everyone. Even Hongjoong can’t help the curl of her lips at Miyeon’s joke, but she regains her composure and sniffles, her eyes landing from girl to girl.

“I’m sorry for lying,” she apologizes again and lets her gaze drop, only for Soyeon to hug her tighter.

“Don’t apologize,” she whispers.

Hongjoong’s chest shakes as another wave of tears crashes into her. “I-I was… was so embarrassed,” she squeaks. “I did—didn’t know… what to say…”

“Shhh, shh,” Soyeon hushes, a hand coming up to caress the back of Hongjoong’s head gently before pulling away to look her square in the eye. “You have nothing to apologize for, Hongjoong-ah. You didn’t even do anything wrong!”

Shuhua steps a little closer. “Don’t cry anymore. He doesn’t deserve your tears!” She brings her hands up to wipe at the wetness dripping down Hongjoong’s cheeks. “Look, all better. It’s okay now.”

Hongjoong is grateful there’s no one else in the washroom aside from them. She can’t imagine how this looks—a group of young, sixteen-year-old girls consoling a crying girl, all because she had broken up with her boyfriend a few days ago.

Some might think they’re not even old enough to be dating yet, and while that may be true to some, these are just girls trying to navigate life on their own. They may have teachers, peers, and parents as their tutors, but they all know deep inside that they will not have lived unless they really live it themselves. 

Hongjoong had no idea what she was doing when she got into a relationship, but this will be a lesson for her.

She sniffles, and then she offers the smallest of smiles. “I’m okay… I think—I think I just didn’t know how to, um, act.” She pauses, then takes in a long, shaky inhale. “I think I will go home.”

“Aw, are you sure? We can go for fishcake soup after!” Miyeon suggests, hoping to help lighten her mood after what had happened, but Hongjoong shakes her head because she knows that the only thing she wants right now is a hot shower and her bed.

“Sorry… let’s go next time,” Hongjoong tells them apologetically.

After she assures them she’ll be okay leaving alone, Hongjoong watches as they retreat to the gymnasium again, where the basketball match is still ensuing.

Honestly, she’s pleasantly surprised. She hadn’t expected for her friends to act like that. It is as Soyeon said—they have only known each other since middle school. They’ve always been too young to do anything after school except for going to the park or meeting the old couple who runs the snack cart right outside their school, who was always happy to give them a little extra if they greeted them with big, wide smiles.

They were only around each other the most during the little breaks between their different classes. Hongjoong knows them by their names and knows what they like to drink and eat for lunch, but she’s never sat down and asked what it is they want to be when they grow up, or why they sometimes arrived to school in the mornings with an unmistakable frown on their lips.

Similarly, no one has ever asked her what she liked to do outside of school, or what kind of music she listened to and why she liked it.

It’s easier said than done letting a friendship blossom into something meaningful, especially at that young of an age. Hongjoong doesn’t know for sure, but she thinks what happened today may be just the thing she needs to feel more connected to her friends.

She sniffles gently as her feet take her towards the school doors. Her shoulders are sunken and her chest feels heavy, but she doesn’t feel as terrible as she did before. It still isn’t a great feeling, though, and her day only gets worse when she arrives at the entrance, only to have a gust of wind nip at her face when someone pushes the door to head inside.

It’s raining. She stares down at her legs, goosebumps risen across her skin, and pulls her zip-up closer in on herself.

“You should at least zip it up.”

Hongjoong spins on her heels and looks right into Seonghwa’s eyes. She’s got a lackadaisical look on her face, and she’s not exactly meeting Hongjoong’s eyes, but Hongjoong heard what she said.

Her fingers scramble for the zipper at the bottom, but maybe it’s because she’s been caught off guard, or because she’s still anxiety-ridden from everything that transpired earlier, but her hands are shaky and she can’t seem to get it to latch on.

“I’ll help you,” Seonghwa tells her as a pair of hands come into Hongjoong’s vision. Slowly, Hongjoong lets go of her own zipper and watches as Seonghwa easily slips it into the slider before gently pulling it up. Hongjoong tucks her hair away so it doesn’t get caught in it.

“There, better!” Seonghwa beams.

Hongjoong doesn’t move from her spot, so Seonghwa glances down at her like she’s looking for something. The taller girl questions, “Where is your umbrella?”

Hongjoong sniffs and turns to head out the school. “I don’t have one.”

“I have one,” says Seonghwa suddenly, and before even one drop of wetness can land on Hongjoong’s head, an umbrella pops upon above her, shielding her from the gloomy weather.

Hongjoong refuses to look at Seonghwa. “You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s okay, I’m leaving anyway. Your school is destroying them,” Seonghwa responds with a light-hearted laugh.

For some reason, Hongjoong almost expects Seonghwa to ask her about it. She had been there to witness part of it—a lot of it—but she still expected the other girl to say something to her about what had happened.

Hongjoong shakes her head. Maybe she doesn’t even know. Why is she always thinking about herself?

“This sucks,” Seonghwa grumbles. “Wasn’t the sun out an hour ago?”

Hongjoong’s laugh is dry. “Maybe you should’ve watched the weather forecast.”

“I did. Did you?”

Hongjoong does not reply.

For most of the way to the train station, Seonghwa is whistling a tune that Hongjoong does not recognize, but it does more than enough to take her mind off of everything. It mixes well with the pitter-patter of the rain and the sound of wet soles padding against the dark pavement.

They take the same train but Hongjoong gets off at a different stop. Seonghwa finds that out only by asking, and Hongjoong tells her only because she is asked. She’s also asked how far of a walk she has, and if she liked basketball.

Seonghwa asks her questions sporadically, as though she’ll only ask if she suddenly thinks of it, but Hongjoong has no problem answering, and that’s only because none of it had to do with Jiwon.

“Don’t feel too sad,” Seonghwa says just as the train is pulling up to her station. She takes Hongjoong’s hand, uncurls it to reveal little crescent-shaped indents on her palm, and presses the handle of the umbrella into it instead. “I don’t have a long walk home. Take this today.”

Hongjoong is too shocked to say anything, and by the time the surprise wears off and she wants to—to say no, to say she doesn’t need it, that she can’t accept much more of Seonghwa’s simple kindness—the last of Seonghwa’s ponytail has disappeared past the threshold of the train doors.

It takes Hongjoong quite some time to really move on from Jiwon. She ended up telling her friends everything, and because she’s familiar with so many people, a lot of the school now knows about what happened. People come and spend time with Hongjoong during lunch just to check up on how she’s doing. They bring her snacks from the cafeteria, share parts of their meals with her, and even offer to do her homework for her.

It’s a lot, and Hongjoong never expected this amount of kindness to reach her.

“But why not?” Minnie asks during lunch break. Her elbow rests against Hongjoong’s table as she leans into it with a yawn. “You’re everyone’s friend. You’re the sweetest and kindest person we know. There’s nothing wrong with being popular.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Hongjoong mumbles. It’s a word she’s familiar with, and it’s a word they often use alongside her name, even from before she entered school.

Her mother always tells her how easily she made friends on the playground, and she also remembers constantly being asked for her time during recesses back in elementary and middle school. People really liked playing games with her.

Still, it has never sat right with her. She doesn’t want to be popular. She only wants to be well-liked, and she thinks there’s a difference. Maybe other people don’t understand, but there’s a sort of happiness that comes to her when people invite her out after school because they like her, not because she’s popular.

Something feels lacking, however, and Hongjoong can’t wrap her hand about what it is that makes every friendship of hers feel so lacklustre.

“By the way, we’re going to a cafe after school today. Wanna come? Gyuvin and his friends will be there too,” Minnie asks while inspecting her nails. She used to keep them decently long, but she’s learned to trim them shorter now that they’re about two months into the school year. Apparently, sports and long nails don’t really mix well.

Hongjoong hums in contemplation, but not for too long, or Minnie might get the wrong idea. “Sure! I’ll come.”

So, she goes.

When Jihyo finally gets the chance to invite her out to the night market one Friday night, she goes too, knowing she’s held off long enough from the first time she had asked.

Wonyoung and Yujin want to go shopping on a warm Saturday in May, so Hongjoong agrees to go with them. She buys a really cute skirt, but that’s about all she can afford with her allowance.

Everyone invites her out to all these different things, and Hongjoong hasn’t realized why she’s been readily agreeing to all of them until the first day of summer break arrives.

Bright sunlight filters in through her blinds in the early morning. She had left a window partially open last night from how hot it had gotten in her room, but mornings are nice when there’s a little breeze accompanying the warmth of the sun.

Hongjoong wakes up without the need for an alarm today, her eyes fluttering open slowly to the whiteness of her ceiling. The apartment is quiet without her mother’s footsteps because she sleeps in later today, but there is a lingering scent of freshly cooked rice in the air, mingling with the saltiness of a stew left on the stovetop for her.

Hongjoong lifts her head to look at the time on the clock on her nightstand, then drops her head back onto the pillow with a gentle thump.

It is the first day of summer break, and Kim Hongjoong has nothing to do.

She gets up and goes through her typical morning routine, but she doesn’t bother changing into anything. She has no plans, and it isn’t like she can turn around and her friends will magically be there with their smiles, urgently asking her out to the mall, or a nearby park, or the arcade.

Hongjoong is somewhat familiar with it. Every break, whether it’s sunshine like this or light snow drifting outside the windows, Hongjoong gets up without fail and does what she does when she has nothing to do—she plugs in her MP3 player, does a little cleaning, helps her mother do the dishes, and then turns on the television while waiting for her to get home.

Today, she has two dishes to do, and the rest of the house is already tidy because she and her mother had a bit of a cleaning day yesterday and went through almost everything already. She stares at the darkened television screen and contemplates whether she should even turn it on. It’s not like she actually watches anything.

She turns it on to let it run anyway while nodding her head to the music instead. There will always be a special place in her heart for anything related to music. For some reason, being alone always feels less lonely when she has Seo Taiji or Cho Yongpil playing from her MP3 player.

While she tends to listen to classics—whatever her mother likes—like Michael Jackson or David Bowie, lately, however, she has even developed a stronger interest for K-Pop. She’s never touched it much before, but her friends have been slowly introducing her to groups and soloists over the months.

Actually, there are some really good songs.

She allows her gaze to drift to the window. The weather is so nice today. Maybe she can go for a walk and stop by the convenience store for a snack or a popsicle. She pauses, her thoughts drifting to the emptiness of her home as she stands in the middle of it, and then she dips back into her bedroom to change out of her pajamas.

The stairwell down to the ground floor traps humidity within it, but when sunshine finally kisses her skin, the heat brings forth a nicer, happier sensation. A little purse sits on her hip, bobbing with every skip of her step, as bicycles and scooters whizz by. In the tree she passes, birds chirp like chimes as they rest their little bodies on steady branches.

Convenience stores are abundant in Korea, but Hongjoong hasn’t stopped by a single one. To be honest, her walk is so enjoyable, she hasn’t really thought about what she actually came out for. Plus, she has the whole day to herself—and many days more until the second semester starts—so she takes herself through the streets until her ankles are sore and her feet are swollen in her sneakers from the heat.

She takes a seat at a bench facing the street as she watches cars in front of her roll to a stop before moving forward again through the intersection. The afternoon heat has flushed her cheeks, and she’s a little thirsty, too, so she takes a look around to see if there’s anywhere she can stop by for a cold drink, but the sounds of shouting voices draw her attention away.

Hongjoong turns, her body twisting until she has one knee hiked up on the bench and two hands pressed into the split wood behind her. An outdoor basketball court is situated right behind the bench, fenced with a dark green windscreen to prevent any loose balls from escaping, and right there on the court, Seonghwa is waving her arms as she blocks a shot to the hoop.

Almost immediately, Hongjoong scrambles to her feet, wanting to get a closer look. It’s unmistakable, the way Seonghwa’s long, black hair, tied into a messy ponytail, whips around with every back and forth turn of her head. Hongjoong’s fingers clutch through the holes on the fence as she leans into it, only to pop back in surprise when a ball comes flying for her face.

“Watch out!” somebody calls, and she unhooks her fingers just in time for the ball to collide with the fence, shaking it as the metal clanging rings through her ears.

“Are you okay?”

Hongjoong holds her hands close to her chest as she looks up into Seonghwa’s eyes, and then she nods. “I-I’m okay, I didn’t—I was—”

“That’s my fault,” Seonghwa replies with a cheeky grin. “I should’ve been good enough to catch that!”

Hongjoong nods because she doesn’t know what else to say. Similarly, Seonghwa stands on the other side awkwardly, the ball hugged to her side under one arm. A gentle breeze sweeps through them, and Seonghwa is the first to break the silence.

“Um,” Seonghwa starts, clearing her throat, “d-did you wanna come in?”

The sky is a blue bowl above them. Hongjoong realizes that Seonghwa is actually really good at basketball. She has learned a little bit from watching so many of Minnie’s club games—not enough for her to think her opinion even matters—but she can tell that Seonghwa is really good. She moves with a fluidity that she usually only sees on players from the official school basketball team, and so many of her shots go through the net.

The tips of Hongjoong’s shoes dig into the rubbery texture of the court grounds as she watches from the bleachers next to the court. They’re metal, so they get extra hot in the summer, but Seonghwa had laid a thin jacket on it so Hongjoong wouldn’t burn her thighs.

She feels kind of bad for sitting on it, but when her fingertips accidentally graze the shiny surface, she hisses and appreciates she even has something under her. A bout of laughing pulls at her attention again. Seonghwa dribbles the ball between her legs and back, so fast Hongjoong’s eyes can barely keep up, before rushing past her friends towards the net.

The way she smiles and claps her hand over their backs makes her think that playing a sport with her friends can be really fun. Even though it’s so hot, Seonghwa looks so happy running around, chatting loudly, and playing basketball with her friends. Hongjoong thinks if she tries to go anywhere near that court, she’s going to trip over her own feet out of nervousness.

Seonghwa only plays for about fifteen minutes more before she’s walking up to Hongjoong, sweat dripping from her temples and dotting along the skin of her neck. Her skin is golden under the beam of the summer sun, and her bangs have matted to her forehead with the stickiness on her skin.

“Ah! T-towel! Towel…” Hongjoong mumbles to herself as she’s scrambling around for Seonghwa’s bag. A white towel drapes over it, and she snatches it up immediately before holding it out for Seonghwa, who takes it with thanks before quickly drying off around her face, neck, and shoulders.

She watches Seonghwa reach for her water bottle, downing the rest of its contents in an instant, and finally realizes just how parched she is. Seonghwa’s curious gaze lands on her as her mouth pops off the lip of her bottle, and then she tilts her head when Hongjoong gulps dryly, like she’s a starved animal staring at a round, juicy strawberry.

“Are you thirsty?” Seonghwa asks, wiping at the corner of her lips.

Hongjoong blinks out of her daze, a little embarrassed for being caught staring at the now empty water bottle. “Um, I was—I’m gonna go look for a store!”

“Can I come too?”

Hongjoong doesn’t know why Seonghwa even asks such a silly question, but she doesn’t dwell on it for too long. Well, she can’t—she’s so thirsty, she thinks she may die of dehydration if she waits any longer.

Together, they look for a store on the street, and these are abundant, too. Tiny stores carved out of the building with the garage door part way down to shield away from the heat of the afternoon sun, they are filled from top to bottom, corner to corner with drinks upon drinks.

The old man behind the counter flips through his newspaper with a toothpick sticking from one end of his lips as he regards the two girls with a nod of his head.

“Mm, there’s so many to pick from here!” Hongjoong exclaims in awe as she browses through the selection.

Seonghwa laughs as she leans herself over the counter slightly. “Right?!” she exclaims, then waves Hongjoong over. “Look—this one is my favourite.”

Hongjoong sidles up next to her and tries to pinpoint which drink Seonghwa is pointing at. “The… coffee?”

“Yeah! It’s so good. I know it’s kinda weird that it comes in a can, but you have to try it first,” Seonghwa tells her, then turns around to ask the old man for the coffee.

Hongjoong ponders over it a little longer. “Um… I will have the lemon tea!”

The old man collects their items, and Hongjoong waits patiently as Seonghwa pays. She allows her gaze to drift back to the streets, where the sunlight blankets everything and casts it in a beautiful, gentle glow of warm yellow. A trio of kids younger—much younger—than herself blow bubbles with an ice-cold popsicle in their hands.

She wonders if she looked that happy when she was that young.

“Here!” Seonghwa’s voice snaps her back to where she is, and the chill from the AC feels two times stronger when something cold and icy presses into her cheek, startling here.

Seonghwa laughs at her reaction, pulling the chilled can away before holding it up properly for Hongjoong to see. “I ended up getting two. Here, have it,” she says with a grin.

Hongjoong stares at the drink in Seonghwa’s hand. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembers it’s already decently late into the afternoon, and then she also remembers how her mother is constantly reminding her of the effects of caffeine after 3PM, and how she’s supposedly going to have a terrible sleep if she consumes even a little bit of it that late into the day.

Still, Hongjoong closes her hands around it tentatively, because she also remembers she doesn’t have school tomorrow. Really, she goes to bed around the same time every night, whether it be during summer or winter break, or the day before a big exam. It has always been what she knows.

Will it hurt? Maybe, but why can’t she stay up a little later tonight? It’s not like she has anything to do in the morning. She shoves that nagging voice to the back of her head and pays for her lemon tea before finally cracking the coffee open once they’re out under the heat of the beating sun again.

Seonghwa watches with animated optimism as Hongjoong lifts the can to her lips to take a small, hesitant sip. A rich sweetness melts onto her tongue and coats her mouth, the liquid cold like ice and refreshing like ocean water around her ankles on the hottest day of summer.

It’s a taste of coffee she’s never had before—creamy, milky, and potent—and she knows instantly why this can be addicting. She thinks if coffee tastes like this all the time, she may come to love it too.

 “So? What do you think?” Seonghwa asks with unfiltered hopefulness. “Is it good?”

Hongjoong nods with a hum, her eyes lighting up as she goes in for another sip before letting out a long, relieved exhale. “It’s delicious! Wow… I can’t believe I never tried something like this before…!” There’s a sparkling glint in her eyes as she stares down at the can like it’s something she needs branded to her memory, but Seonghwa thinks she looks mad.

“H-hey, you look a little scary right now…”

Hongjoong’s head pops up, a blazing fire in her eyes. “I need ten more—no! Hundreds more of these!” She squeezes her eyes shut and chugs down the rest of the drink until her parched throat thanks her for the relief it’s been craving.

Seonghwa giggles while watching her. The sound makes Hongjoong feel a little embarrassed, her cheeks flushing gently as she tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear.

“Are you hungry?” Seonghwa asks after Hongjoong tosses her can in a nearby recycling bin. Lunchtime has already passed, and Hongjoong is feeling a little hungry now, but she imagines Seonghwa must be starving, especially since she’s been running around for over an hour.

“A little…” Hongjoong responds, her eyes gazing around for a place where she can grab a snack.

Seonghwa nods, then tells her, “Okay, wait for me. I’m just going to tell my friends I’m done for the day! I’ll be right back!” Her feet have taken her away from Hongjoong before she even finishes talking.

Hongjoong watches as Seonghwa runs down the sidewalk and back towards the basketball court, her ponytail swaying with her movements. She’s been asked to stay where she is, so Seonghwa finds her exactly where she’s left her, not even one step out of place.

“Okay!” Seonghwa exclaims. “Let’s go eat.”

 

The AC is a relief on their hot skin. Hongjoong’s thin, white t-shirt clings to her arms under her armpits, and when she sits at a chair, the warmth of her blue shorts contrast against the coldness of the plasticy seat along the undersides of her thighs.

“What kind of restaurant is this?” Hongjoong asks curiously as she gazes at the menu. It’s a little tacky with bold letters and stretched images, but even though the pictures of the noodles look unfamiliar to her, they look delicious. Her stomach grumbles embarrassingly loud, but Seonghwa isn’t able to laugh at her much because her own stomach follows after with an even louder growl.

This time, it’s Hongjoong’s turn to giggle, a small hand coming up to her lips as she points at Seonghwa accusingly. “I think you are hungrier than me!”

Seonghwa’s lips twist to the side, her eyes finding interest in a flickering lighting panel on the ceiling. “Well… you’ll find that I’m always hungry.” She leans in to peer over the menu, her index finger guiding Hongjoong’s attention along all the items. “It’s a Chinese noodle restaurant. The old man here is really good at making them!”

Hongjoong sits a little closer, her elbows resting gently on the tabletop. “That one looks spicy…”

Seonghwa laughs loudly. “About as spicy as Korean food! It’s not that bad, I promise, but if you don’t want to eat spicy food, then you can try this one! Ah, or this one! This one is really good if you don’t want soup noodles, ‘cause it’s so hot.”

A young server eventually comes up to their table to take their orders. Seonghwa ends up getting a spicy bowl of noodle soup, and Hongjoong gets black bean noodles, Chinese-style, because she’s a little more familiar with it. Seonghwa suggests they get the dumplings to share, too.

Curiously, Hongjoong asks, “Are you on the basketball team?”

Seonghwa blinks, mid-sip through her glass of water. “No, I’m not. Why?”

Hongjoong actually looks surprised at the question. “Ah, I just thought… you’re really good at it.”

Seonghwa pauses, setting her water down before tapping on her chin as she thinks. Suddenly, she places her palms down on the table, her eyes growing wide with a look of mixed disbelief and surprise. “Y’know what, that’s what I think too! Should I—should I try out for the team next year?”

Hongjoong doesn’t know why, but she’s starting to get really fired up too. “Yes!” she shouts, her own palms striking the table. It hurts, but she doesn’t think too much of it right now. “You will become the—the M—the M…um…! The MBP!”

“Hahaha! You’re so funny!” Seonghwa cackles, kicking her legs under the table.

“I’m serious! You are very good!” Hongjoong retorts, leaning forward so heavily she lifts her butt off her chair.

“It’s MVP!” Seonghwa continues to laugh, a finger coming up to wipe a stray tear from the corner of one eye.

Hongjoong flushes red. “Yes! That!”

The giggles eventually slow down until Seonghwa has caught her breath. “I will think about it,” she finally says as she reaches for her glass of water. “I’m happy just being in the club.”

Hongjoong plops back down, her shoulders sinking with mild disappointment. “But why?”

Seonghwa shrugs dismissively. “It’s just for fun. I don’t care about it that much.”

At this time, Hongjoong hasn’t fully grasped the concept of hobbies, but she relents and doesn’t say much else about it. “How come our schools haven’t had any matches?”

“Like, for club?”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong responds with a nod.

“We totally can,” Seonghwa responds just as a plate of dumplings, fat and wide and shaped like a flower, is dropped off at their table. “I think the boy’s basketball club had a game just before summer break. I’ll figure it out when we go back.”

The dumplings are so big, Hongjoong has to take bites out of it, but she nearly chokes on it when she sees Seonghwa shove the whole thing inside of her mouth, her cheeks puffed out like those hamsters she sees in the random animal videos her mother shows her.

It should be a little silly, but Hongjoong thinks Seonghwa almost looks cute. She seems like the type to always get so excited about food. Hongjoong is reminded of how Seonghwa’s expression had lit up the way fictional characters in all of her favourite childhood animations did, vividly and vibrantly, when she had discovered Hongjoong’s box of salted cookies.

It feels like such a long time ago. Only one semester has passed, but Hongjoong has been able to rid Jiwon of her thoughts, along with all the tainted memories of him. For some reason, though, all her interactions with Seonghwa still remain fresh and clear in her mind to this day. Is it because they keep running into each other?

Seonghwa is just so nice and friendly. She’s a little different from all of Hongjoong’s other female friends in a way Hongjoong can’t wrap her mind around. The energy is different—their types of conversations are different. Maybe it’s because they go to different schools and don’t have any classes together, but Hongjoong thinks about it and feels like there really won’t be much difference even if they are classmates.

Their noodles come and they slurp it down, starved from a day’s heat and how much energy they burnt. Seonghwa makes a mess of spicy chili oil over her lips, flaming red and swollen, but Hongjoong isn’t much better either, black bean sauce smeared across her own mouth.

She’s so full she doesn’t think she’ll be able to eat dinner tonight. After all, those portions aren’t exactly small—she still doesn’t know how Seonghwa managed to finish all her food so fast. She must’ve been so incredibly hungry after playing basketball with her friends.

They pay and step back out into the sun, but at least it isn’t as hot as before. Still hot enough to have Hongjoong fanning herself, though, slightly more exhausted now that she has food in her belly. People call that food coma—she thinks she finally understands what they mean.

There’s a tinny, electronic ding from somewhere, not distant enough for her to disregard, and she directs her attention back onto Seonghwa to see her pull out a small device from her pocket.

“Whoa!” Hongjoong exclaims, padding in close. “You have a cellphone?”

Seonghwa grins, flashing white teeth as she turns her phone around for Hongjoong to look at. “Yeah! My mom got it for me after the first semester. She always says I stay out so late, so she gets worried. Now, she can call me!”

Hongjoong watches in awe as Seonghwa fiddles around with it, her thumbs tapping at the keyboard as she responds to a text message from her mother. Not even a few seconds later, the screen lights up with an incoming call.

“Hello?” Seonghwa speaks after picking up. “Oh, mm, I’m not sure… Maybe around eight? Yes… yes, I ate! I’m with my friend… Yes, I’ll see you at home! Bye-bye,” she finishes, then takes the phone away from her ear, grinning ear to ear at Hongjoong. “Isn’t it cool!”

“So cool…” Hongjoong gawks dumbly.

“Heehee, now I can message all my friends! Well—if they have a phone too…” Seonghwa mumbles and takes her lip in between her teeth as she fools around with something on the screen for a moment. “And pictures! Say ‘cheese!’”

Hongjoong isn’t prepared for the picture at all, the captured photo of her face showing surprise while glancing up at Seonghwa’s phone. “W-wait! Delete it! I don’t—I don’t look very good…!”

Seonghwa blinks, her eyebrows furrowing as she zooms in even more on Hongjoong’s face. “Why? I think it looks good.”

“Ugh, you’re kind of frustrating, you know?”

Seonghwa laughs. “That’s what it’s like being friends with me, don’t you know?”

Hongjoong feels a sudden flutter within her chest. It almost feels like a tickle of butterflies, slight and light, but impossible to ignore. She immediately recalls the first time Seonghwa had referred to her as a friend. It had been shortly after they even met—literally within twenty-four hours of meeting—and Hongjoong had genuinely believed she hadn’t meant it.

She doesn’t know why she thinks that, but her feelings made sense to her at the time. She didn’t think too much about it. She never did, not until now.

Does Seonghwa really think of her as a friend? Even though they go to different schools, and even though they hardly see much of each other?

Hongjoong swallows down a hiccup, drawing a look of concern from Seonghwa, who pauses immediately to check on her. “What’s wrong? I-I mean, I can delete it if you really want me to…!”

“No! No, it’s okay, I…” Hongjoong breathes in through her nose, her gaze steady as she holds a stare with Seonghwa, “I like it… Don’t—don’t delete it.”

Seonghwa blinks at her, then looks down at the photo. “Okay. I’m not going to delete it.” She turns it a little bit so Hongjoong can look at it with her. “We’re kind of cute, right? This is actually the first photo I took with this phone!”

“Really?” Hongjoong asks in surprise. “W-well, I mean, you just got it, right?”

“I got it a week ago. I haven’t really touched it that much. I have only my mom and my dad as contacts, but I can’t wait to trade numbers with some friends at school. You don’t have one?”

Hongjoong shakes her head, a small pout forming on her face. Truthfully, she’s been doing well without a phone. Some of her classmates have had one since middle school, some of them just got one. She’s known that it’s how her friends communicate when they’re not with each other, and it’s not like she’s never been curious before—laying in bed and talking to friends, or playing whatever mobile games have been in lately—it’s just that she’s never really felt the need for one.

An odd sensation sits at the pit of her stomach. Right now, as she watches Seonghwa swipe out of her photo album and tuck her phone away, she decides she really, really wants one.

“Wanna come to the arcade with me?” Seonghwa asks with a cheeky grin.

Hongjoong doesn’t think twice before answering, “Yes!”

 

“Whoa!” Hongjoong exclaims, her palms pressed up against the glass of the claw machine. “Can you really win it?!”

Seonghwa rivets her eyes on the swaying claw, her lower lip pulled gently between her teeth from her intense concentration. Hongjoong had shamefully admitted upon entering that she’s never been able to win anything at the arcade before, and so she’s already long given up on ever trying again, but Seonghwa made the very bold promise of winning her whatever she picks out today.

So far, Seonghwa has tried twice and failed, but she did manage to bring the little Hello Kitty plushie closer to the prize hatch every time. When she drops it the third time, Hongjoong nudges her, resolve strengthening her confidence.

“Can I try?”

The claw machine whirs to life again when Hongjoong inserts a token into the coin slot, and when she feels like it's accurate, she drops the claw and watches in shock as the claw hooks over the plushie and picks it up.

“Oh my god!” she screeches, turning to grip Seonghwa by the sides of her arms “Oh my god! I-I-I did it! I did it!”

Seonghwa says suddenly, “Wait,” and then they both watch in horror as the Hello Kitty drops and hits the thick wall of the plastic barrier around the chute, where she balances precariously before slowly, finally, dropping down with a resounding plop.

“Yay!” they both cheer in unison as they give each other two high-fives, the claps resounding despite the loud, bubbly girl-group tune seeping from the overhead speakers. Hongjoong’s palms sting, and when she turns them around to look at them, they’re bright pink, but she can’t care less—not when there’s an even pinker Hello Kitty plush waiting for her.

Hongjoong fishes it out before holding it up between them, and she can’t help how wide her smile grows, toothy and unrestrained, like this is the most fun she’s had in a long time. Maybe it is—maybe Hongjoong has never understood the simple joys that can be found in the liberties that come with being young, teenage girls.

Here she is, standing in the middle of an arcade that she never would have gone to, spending money on games that don’t always guarantee the satisfaction of a win, hanging out with a girl she’s only met in March of this year—all if not for Seonghwa.

“Let me see it,” Seonghwa says with an outstretched hand.

Hongjoong places it into her palm and watches with burning curiosity as Seonghwa unclasps the little chain attached to it before hooking it over the strap of Hongjoong’s little purse.

“Ohhh! It’s so cute there,” Hongjoong says, flipping it over and over before letting it dangle freely.

Seonghwa grins cheekily. “Hehe, now you can attach it to your backpack when school starts!”

Hongjoong thinks about walking into school with the plushie swaying from her backpack. Some of the other girls already have something fluffy and small—Hongjoong only wonders why she never thought of adding something like that before, or perhaps she did, but didn’t think too much of it.

It’s not like it’s anything important—it’s just a plushie. Still, she holds it close to her as they hop from game to game, from watching Seonghwa shoot at zombies while trying to protect Hongjoong, or swinging side to side on a bike as she beats the other three competitors like it’s second nature to her.

It seems that no matter what it is, as long as Seonghwa sets her heart on it, she’ll always excel. Hongjoong thinks she’s so admirable. She’s never met someone so… colourful before. It’s weird when she thinks about it. How is it that they live such different lives despite being the same age? Seonghwa knows how to play basketball, has friends from other schools, whether they are boys or girls, and she knows how to play everything in the arcades!

She has had coffee in a can before, is really good at eating spicy szechuan peppers, and—above all else—Hongjoong feels really happy around her. It’s so easy to smile, to laugh, and to forget about everything else when Seonghwa is standing next to her. Even around her own friends from school, Hongjoong very rarely feels like she can be herself.

“Ah! S-Seonghwa-ssi, how old are you…?” Hongjoong suddenly asks as they exit the arcade. The banana milk that the other girl has gotten for her is cold and refreshing in her hands, but she hasn’t sipped from it yet, suddenly reminded of the fact that she still doesn’t know how old Seonghwa is.

Seonghwa turns to look at her, the straw still between her lips before they pop off of it. “I’m in my first year. Why?”

“Ohhh, really! Me too!” Hongjoong says, suddenly much more comfortable even though they’ve been talking informally to each other for some time now. “I—I don’t know why I thought you were older…!”

“Really? Me?” Seonghwa asks, puzzled. “My mom always tells me I act like a child.”

Hongjoong blinks at the confession. How on earth can anyone think Seonghwa acts like a child? She’s so knowledgeable and friendly while still being herself, and Hongjoong thinks that’s maturity that a lot of people her age don’t have.

“I think so,” Hongjoong responds a little petulantly.

Seonghwa grins at her while sucking up the last bit of her drink, the slurping sound less obnoxious when it’s coming from her. “You’re a first-year too, right?”

“Yes!”

“Are you in any clubs?” Seonghwa asks curiously.

The sun has settled a little lower now, painting the sky a deep blend of pinks and oranges as white wispy clouds add to the serenity of their evening walk. Hongjoong glances at her Hello Kitty plush, then up at Seonghwa before looking away again. “No,” she responds easily, “I don’t really like anything.”

“I see,” Seonghwa replies. “What about at home? Do you do anything fun?”

Hongjoong shakes her head, the admission a little embarrassing now that someone is actually asking about it. “I just hang out with my friends after school sometimes… At home, I study or spend time with my mom.”

“Hmmm…” Seonghwa hums. “Well, if you ever wanna do anything, you can call me! Here, I will give you my phone number.” She pats around her pockets, then pulls out her wallet, where she picks through the amount of stamp cards she has and other little receipts in there before finally slipping one out.

She doesn’t have a pen, however, so she tells Hongjoong to wait for her as she runs off somewhere to find a pen. Hongjoong watches from her spot as she approaches a middle-aged woman at a food stand to borrow a pen. She scribbles something down on the piece of paper, returns it, and comes jogging back to Hongjoong.

“Here,” she says, holding it out for Hongjoong to take. It’s a stamp card from a popular boba chain, and it’s been filled up. On the back, there are a handful of numbers. She flips it back over.

“It’s full,” she states. “Won’t you get a free boba with this?”

“It’s okay!” Seonghwa says confidently, that same, infectious smile back on her face. “You can have it. If you ever get a phone, you can message me on this number too!”

Hongjoong feels a little bad about it, but she tucks the stamp card safely inside her purse anyway. Her shirt tapes to her skin as she moves, and it’s starting to get really hot again even though she had been under the chill of an AC for a couple of hours.

She swallows dryly, then asks, “Do you want to get ice cream?”

They end up at a convenience store not too far from where they walked. Ramen cups upon ramen cups line the shelves, as well as an assortment of different snacks and sweets. They pass by a section of onigiri, lunchboxes, and tiny sausages on skewers.

“I’m kind of hungry again,” Seonghwa mumbles while looking at all the food options. She has a red shopping basket hanging off her bent arm, and Hongjoong watches in amazement as she fills it up with a spicy cup ramen, sausages, and fishcakes.

Hongjoong is still full, but she might get a snack. She reaches for the skewered corn just as Seonghwa does, and then quickly retracts her hand.

Seonghwa gives her a little laugh before pulling two of them off the hook and tossing them into her basket. “I will get it. Are you still getting the ice cream?”

Hongjoong nods slowly. “After we eat…”

People pass by with their dogs, baby strollers, couples with their hands interlocked as they eat. Seonghwa’s cup ramen is steaming after she lifts the lid, and Hongjoong watches with fascination as she pulls the skewer off the fishcake and the tiny sausages, and they fall right into the red, spicy broth.

“Have you never had it like this before?” Seonghwa asks, and it takes a moment for Hongjoong to realize that the other girl is looking at her looking into her cup ramen.

Hongjoong shakes her head. Finally, Seonghwa places a slice of cheese over it before getting off her stool and heating it up in the microwave for thirty seconds.

When Seonghwa gets back, she immediately begins mixing it all together, and even though Hongjoong has never had ramen like this before—has never even had a meal in a convenience store—it looks and smells amazing.

Seonghwa gathers a little bit of everything onto her chopsticks before lifting it up and blowing gently on it. “Try it,” she says, holding it forward with a hand cupped underneath to prevent any spillage.

Hongjoong swallows, then scoots a little closer before moving her mouth to the chopsticks. It’s spicy and savoury, and the bit of cheese helps to create a mellower, creamier flavour. The sausage is sweet, salty, and peppery, and the tenderness of the noodles reminds Hongjoong of when she would make herself ramen while following the instructions on the back when her mother had business meetings that ran past dinnertime.

“It’s good!” she exclaims with her mouth full. A hand comes up to hide her lips as she chews. “I’ve never had ramen like this before…!”

“It’s life-changing,” Seonghwa tells her before shoveling the ramen into her mouth. Hongjoong swivels around to glance at everything on the shelves. She wonders how many different meals she can make now that she’s actually thinking about it. Maybe she will try it out on her own next time. After all, she has the entirety of summer break for it.

They eat in a comfortable silence, and Seonghwa actually finishes her ramen before Hongjoong is even done with her corn. She knows she shouldn’t be surprised by how quickly Seonghwa eats, but she figures it’s something she’ll have to get used to.

When she’s finished her snack, she gets off her seat and picks out a couple different ice pops, turning to ask Seonghwa what she thinks and what she likes, before checking out her items at the front counter. She returns to find that Seonghwa has thrown away all their garbage and cleaned up their spot.

“Actually,” Hongjoong says after licking the drip of sweetness off the side of her ice pop, “I still have your jacket…”

“And my umbrella,” Seonghwa adds, laughing enough to not have Hongjoong feel too bad about having kept those items for so long, “but it’s okay, you can just return it next time. I wish I can go get it, but I should probably go home after this.”

Hongjoong blinks. What time is it? Has she been out with Seonghwa the whole day? She hasn’t even told her mother, who should’ve been home a while ago. She doesn’t really care too much about Hongjoong staying out later after school, but she hadn’t even mentioned she would even leave the house today.

A small gasp leaves her lips as she tries to find a clock on the wall, but then Seonghwa is pulling out her phone and turning the screen on.

“Oh… oh, yes,” Hongjoong states, staring at the time. “I should go too.”

They finish their dessert quickly afterward, and then Hongjoong is waving at Seonghwa as they head in their separate directions. She’d walked pretty far, but she doesn’t really want to take the bus home, so she lets her quick feet take her back the way she came from.

When she does eventually work up a sweat because it’s still quite hot out at this time, she comes to a slower, more staggering pace. She’s already out late anyway, and it’s not like there’s that much of a rush to make it home. What is an extra five minutes going to do? Her mother is going to comment on it either way.

She clutches onto the strap of her purse with both hands as she walks. She wonders if Seonghwa will make it home okay. She wishes there’s a way she can ask her, but she knows there isn’t one until she gets home and uses the landline to call her.

Should she ask for a phone? Her mother might say no. She can always pick up a part time job, but the thought of it is daunting to her, and she’ll probably have to work for so long before she can even afford one. Something cheap is good enough, right? It’ll be just for texting, or calling… but the thought of having photos with her friends on there sounds nice too.

The door creaks open as she announces her return to a silent apartment. From where Hongjoong takes her shoes off, she can see her mother lean back on the stool to glance down the hallway at her.

“Where were you?”

Hongjoong looks up briefly. “I went out with a friend.”

“Really? You usually say something.”

Hongjoong steps into the kitchen and finds the seat next to her mother while setting her purse down on the counter. “I went on a walk and bumped into her, so we hung out for the day…”

“I see…” her mother answers, eyeing the plushie on her purse. “Did you have fun?”

Hongjoong fidgets a little. “I—I did! She’s really nice. She can play basketball, ‘cause she’s super, super tall! And she knows how to play every game in the arcade. Oh, and she can eat a lot.”

“Is this a friend I know?” her mother asks curiously. She’s set her phone down now, fully immersed in the conversation. “I feel like I haven’t heard you talk about her.”

To be honest, Hongjoong doesn’t talk about her friends much to begin with. Her mother knows a little bit about some of them, but Hongjoong doesn’t even think she’s mentioned any of their names. She’s never gone into detail about any of her friendships. She doesn’t even think she’s told her mother about much of the stuff she does after school, thinking she’s staying late to study.

While Hongjoong does feel a little bad for lying to her, she also knows it isn’t that big of a deal. Hongjoong’s grades are fine. Actually, they’re great for how little she studies. She places a above average, and she has never had any trouble with the teachers.

“No,” Hongjoong answers honestly. “Um, I met her at the beginning of the semester.”

“Same school?”

“Different school.”

“I see.”

They don’t chat for too much longer; there’s a lingering awkwardness between them as they try to build up a conversation as they usually do, but there’s not much to talk about when she already knows what her mother is going to say.

‘Oh, work was good. Had a business meeting, ordered lunch with my team, and…’

Wanting to take a shower after sweating in the sun all day is Hongjoong’s excuse to cut their conversation short. Her mother did try to ask a little more about Seonghwa, but Hongjoong suddenly doesn’t know what to say.

Or, maybe she doesn’t want to say much else.

She comes to the realization that Seonghwa is the first person she’s ever told her mother about like that, even if she had only mentioned her athletic ability and her large appetite.

Hongjoong turns onto her side now that she’s settled into bed and stares at the time on her clock. She hadn’t been able to call Seonghwa yet.

A week after that, Hongjoong’s mother comes to her with a surprise. It’s the weekend so she doesn’t have work today, but she had to run out for some errands by herself, leaving Hongjoong alone at home anyway.

For the past few days, her mind has been so occupied with the strangest thoughts. Every time her stomach grumbles, she finds she’s been craving the ramen cup noodles sitting on the highest shelf in the pantry, even though there’s healthier and more nutritious foods available. 

When she turns on the TV to a popular basketball match playing, she finds she’s drawn to the movements of the bodies on the court, so absorbed she stops whatever she’s doing as she stands there on rooted feet, her attention glued to the screen. One week ago, she thinks she might’ve switched the channel without even an ounce of hesitation.

Hongjoong sometimes glances at the phone sitting on its charging dock next to the TV and wonders what it’ll be like to pick up a call from Seonghwa, but that’s not going to happen anytime soon because Hongjoong still hasn’t done anything with that stamp card sitting inside of her purse.

As she cleans around the entrance by the front door, she’s reminded of Seonghwa by the umbrella propped up against the wall. Her jacket is still draped over the back of Hongjoong’s chair in her room, too thick and heavy to even consider wearing out now. It makes sense it slipped Seonghwa’s mind, but Hongjoong is reminded of her every day, as it sits right in her field of vision when she’s getting ready for bed and waking up from her sleep.

Maybe it’s a bit weird to say, but Hongjoong thinks she misses Seonghwa. They’ve only known each other for a semester, and she’s also the newest friend Hongjoong has made—but even with the friends that she sees daily at school, she hardly thinks about them even half as much as she thinks about Seonghwa.

Hongjoong has never had a friendship that feels so pure before. Being around Seonghwa is like breathing in air she doesn’t know can be fresher than the chilliest of springtime mornings. It’s almost as though they are meant to be friends, as unlikely as it should have been considering their circumstances.

Is it normal that she feels so electrified thinking about her? Perhaps not—perhaps Seonghwa doesn’t even feel the same way she does, but Hongjoong doesn’t care, and she doesn’t think she needs to if she doesn’t make it weird, right?

Seonghwa gave her her number so she can send her a message on the day she finally gets her own phone, so that’s what Hongjoong is going to do. She isn’t going to call her beforehand from a number that only works to make and receive calls, even though she wants to. She’ll wait for the next moment they bump into each other to invite Seonghwa over so Hongjoong can return her items rather than seeking her out. That’s what everyone would do, right?

That is how she can become a good friend to Seonghwa, except the day she gets her phone comes a lot sooner than she ever imagined. Her mother calls her over from where she sits on the couch after being out for almost the entire day, and Hongjoong pads over to sit next to her, her hands resting comfortably in her lap.

“I got a new phone today,” she says before Hongjoong can say anything.

“Oh,” Hongjoong states because she doesn’t know what else to say. “Why?”

“Well, my contract is up on my old one, so I got it upgraded,” she replies, then sits forward to reach into the back pocket of her jeans to slip out her old phone. The last time Hongjoong noticed it, there had been a huge crack on the screen protector. Now, it’s been replaced, crisp and clean like it had never been there at all. “You want one, right?”

Hongjoong’s breath catches in her throat. “U-um…”

“I’m surprised you haven’t even asked, actually,” her mother tells her with a slightly crooked grin. “It’s been factory reset for you.”

This time, Hongjoong is unable to contain her smile. It breaks across her face so widely, her mother can’t help but laugh at her daughter’s response.

“Here,” she says, holding it out for Hongjoong before gently resting it into her receiving palms. “I’ll pay for the plan, but please take care of it. I can’t get you a second one if you accidentally break it.”

The device sits heavy in her hands, and for a few seconds, Hongjoong doesn’t know what to do with it. She should turn it on, right? What did her mother mean when she said that it’s been factory reset? Can she play games with it? Take photos with it? If she sends Seonghwa a text right now, will she receive it?

“Do you want me to show you how to use it?” her mother offers, leaning in closer to peer down at their reflections in the darkened screen. She clicks down on the button on the side, and then the screen lights up just as Hongjoong’s eyes widen a fraction.

For the next half hour, Hongjoong’s mother teaches her all the ropes. She shows her how to add a contact and adds herself as Hongjoong’s emergency contact. Then, she moves on to the settings on her phone, showing her how to set up a password and her Face ID on it. She introduces YouTube to her, KakaoTalk, and all the other essentials, and by the time night falls and the apartment is quiet and dim with the warm glow of the overhead light above the stove, Hongjoong is cozy in bed, her back against the headboard as she stares down at her phone.

It’s been open to display the new contact she has just added, her first after her own mother, and in her other hand, the little stamp card with Seonghwa’s phone number sits heavily. She hasn’t sent a message yet despite the fact that she’s been staring at the brightly lit screen of her phone for a good ten minutes already.

What does she even say? She doesn’t know. Why is it so difficult? Isn’t it the same as talking—except it’s logged electronically? She sets the stamp card on her nightstand and flops over onto her side, her pillow cushioning her cheek.

She flicks away from the text messaging app to go onto YouTube instead. She figures she’s going to use this one a lot for how often she browses new music.

There is so much content. From music videos, to funny compilations, to sports! News, food, vlogs, everything is available on YouTube. She ends up watching a couple of music videos from random groups because she remembers her friends mentioning some of them—none of which she knows much about—before beginning to feel sleepy.

Now that her energy has been drained, she switches back over to her texts, sadly empty still. Right before she falls asleep, she sends Seonghwa her very first message on her new phone.

 

From: Hongjoong

hello! this is kim hongjoong

Notes:

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