West Seoul University Series

by Leigh Ban

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Did you create this yesterday?” I teased.

  “Do you really think I’d do that? Like I’m some seedy perv who gets off on hearing stories about strangers hooking up on campus?” He guffawed, smacking his thigh. “No, one of my friends mentioned it ages ago.”

  “Well, just a few minutes ago, I thought you were planning to do the dirty here,” I said. Though I intended to disclose the detail nonchalantly, I couldn’t keep a straight face.

  He sighed. “You know, you make the weirdest assumptions about me.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault the story I had in mind was different than what you were thinking of.”

  “I guess I deserve this after how I behaved when we first met and for being late to the Seoul Autumn Harvest Festival,” he muttered, covering the side of his face with his palm.

  I knitted my brow. “You’re not going to cry, are you? Isaac, I’m not annoyed at you for what happened all the way back then.” I took a step toward him. “Look, I’m sorry if I sounded callous. It’s nothing personal against you. The truth is, I’ve been burned too many times. I can’t help but keep my guard up. Now, I know we’re still getting to know each other, but I think you might be different.”

  He glanced at me and smiled. “Different in a good way or a bad way?”

  “You jerk, I thought I’d made you cry!” I squealed, taking his hand and shaking it.

  “In a good way, right?” he said in a smooth, low voice, entwining our fingers together.

  “Well, we’re holding hands, aren’t we?” I replied, gazing into his eyes. Within seconds, my heart was pounding like I’d just finished a hundred-meter dash.

  Isaac squeezed my hand. When I saw my reflection in his pupils, I was reminded of my brief conversation with the lady who’d taken our photo at the Seo Woo Center. Your boyfriend’s a keeper. I can tell by the way he looks at you. While the sun’s warm rays hit the back of my head, I studied every detail of his face, from the faint laugh lines to the sharp angle of his jaw. Neither of us said a word. The moment was so perfect we didn’t need to.

  “Do you want me to pick you up at two?” Isaac asked over the phone. We were only one day away from our fifth date.

  “In your car?” I asked, rolling around in bed and wrapped in my duvet like a burrito.

  “No. In my tank, comrade,” he joked.

  “I’m more of an attack helicopter girl, but I suppose a tank would work.”

  He chuckled. “It’s technically not my tank though. I haven’t been driving for long.”

  “I didn’t know you drove at all. You didn’t drive to any of our previous dates,” I pointed out.

  “I got my license at the end of summer break. So I’ve been practicing throughout this semester with my dad. On weekends I drive around Seoul in one of his cars.”

  “One of his cars? Gee, how many does he have? Does he run a car dealership?” I teased.

  “He’s just an orthopedist who happens to be a car guy. I used to think that would make my driving lessons fun, but actually, it sucks. I started out practicing with his Porsche Cayenne, but I don’t think driving an SUV is for me. I always took forever to park, even after spending two afternoons practicing in an empty parking lot.”

  “Aren’t you a lucky guy? You get to choose which car to drive from your dad’s collection.”

  “Except he gets worked up way too easily. Since his cars are his most prized possessions, it’s ten times worse than back when he tried to tutor me math. And we gave up on that when I was eleven because I kept ending up in tears.”

  “Yeah, that didn’t work for me either. I also ended up in tears when my parents tried to tutor me. Was your dad hard on you when you were growing up?”

  “In some ways, yes, he was. Overall, I think he’s a good father who happens to be a terrible teacher. He just doesn’t have the patience for someone who’s still got a lot to learn. To the point where I feel bad for his interns and residents. Anyway, for someone who had to take his driving test three times to pass, I’m getting pretty good.”

  “I wish you didn’t tell me you took the test three times though. Can I really trust you?”

  “Yumi, I’ve been getting driving lessons from the scariest driving teacher in the nation. My dad wouldn’t dream of letting me borrow his car if he didn’t think I was ready yet.”

  “Alright.” I laughed. “I believe in you.”

  “I wouldn’t call myself an A+ driver, but I’d like to think I’m an A− in terms of my ability to drive around Seoul. Perhaps a solid B for parking and an A− for everything else.”

  “Speaking of A’s and B’s, I wonder how many students are going to get an A for Society and Love this semester,” I said before letting out a big yawn. Although it was almost midnight, I didn’t want to hang up and go to bed just quite yet.

  “If I recall correctly, eighteen students got an A+ or an A last semester. That seems like a reasonable number for a class of eighty,” Isaac replied.

  “I guess it depends on how well people get along with their partners,” I remarked.

  “Exactly. When I signed up for this course, I didn’t think partners would be randomly assigned. I thought we’d fill out a questionnaire of some sort.”

  “Knowing Professor Lim, we should be grateful he didn’t give us a questionnaire. He’d probably split the class into two groups, one full of somewhat compatible pairings and one full of decidedly incompatible pairings, to see whether there was a major difference in the ‘success rate’ at the end of the semester.”

  “Maybe he’s been doing that behind our backs,” Isaac hissed.

  “Ooh, you mean the random partner draw could’ve been a sham?”

  He chortled. “If that were the case, would we fall under the group of compatible pairs or the incompatible pairs?”

  “We’d be the most incompatible pair in our class,” I answered without hesitation.

  “Really?”

  “Aside from the fact that we both enjoy a good night out with drinks. And the fact that we both appreciate ballet.”

  “We’ve been getting along awfully well for an incompatible pair. You’re a future Hope Scholarship recipient, and I’m a potential academic warning recipient, but otherwise, we’re not so different after all,” he said playfully.

  “Do you think you’ll get another academic warning?”

  “No, I was making a joke, Yumi.”

  “Thank goodness,” I said, though I wasn’t sure why I’d worried on his behalf—he wasn’t my younger brother or anything.

  Isaac explained, “Things have been working out better this semester, which is to be expected, seeing as I’ve actually been studying. I probably won’t be getting a lot of A’s, but I’m not too fussed because premed grades don’t count for anything later, only my actual med school grades. So I’ll be fine as long as I pass orgo, and I’m pretty confident I will.”

  It was then that I realized I needed the A more than he did.

  Chapter Eleven

  As promised, Isaac arrived outside my apartment at two. I’d already finished getting ready, so I’d been munching on an apple with a duffel bag on my lap, peering out the window to see if he was here. The instant I saw a black Aston Martin pull up, I knew it was him—none of the residents of my building drove luxury vehicles. I slipped on a pair of silver slingbacks, shoes I’d purchased specifically for this day, and dashed out the door.

  When Isaac saw me, he rolled down the window. I tottered toward him and waved. Then I looked at the ground to make sure my heels didn’t get stuck in a crack.

  “Get in, Tinkerbell,” he called out.

  “But I’m not Tinkerbell, at least not yet,” I said, then opened the passenger door.

  Our first stop was a hypermarket with an extensive toy department. I left my duffel bag in the car. Isaac had brought three huge red sacks with him.

  “I’ve been doing research actually,” he said as he popped the sacks into our shopping cart.
>
  “What type of research?” I asked, slowly pushing the trolley.

  “We’re in charge of buying a bunch of toys that the kids at the hospital are going to be gifted, whether they like it or not, right?”

  I nodded. Apparently Isaac’s father wasn’t just any ordinary orthopedist; he was the chairman of the Department of Orthopedic Surgery at Seoul Modu Hospital, the nation’s leading hospital. Back when we were at Café Crazy Cozy, Isaac told me the hospital ran a Christmas event for the children’s ward every year and suggested we help out as volunteers for our fifth date.

  He continued. “So I did some research on what the kids are raving about these days. I figured I didn’t want to be the boring grown-up who’s clueless about the latest trends for kids.”

  “How sweet of you.” I stopped to stare into his eyes. “Well then, Father Christmas, what are the kids these days raving about?”

  After Isaac stepped behind me, he placed his hands over mine. His breath tingled against the nape of my neck. “Since you’ve been a good girl, I’ll show you.”

  We went past older couples browsing through the pot plant display before we arrived at the toy department, where children were pulling on their parents’ arms, refusing to go home without a new toy. Although I never saw myself as a damsel in distress, the type of girl who came to college to search for a spouse, the image of me and Isaac shopping for our children’s toys popped into my mind. I knew I was getting way ahead of myself, but the thought put a smile on my face.

  Once we arrived at the first toy aisle, Isaac pulled out a yellow sticky note from his back pocket.

  “Here’s my cheat sheet,” he said, handing me the sticky note. He’d written down a list of play kits, gadgets, figurines, and dolls.

  “Dino’s Beats?” I read the name of the first toy on the list.

  “Look! It’s over there.” Isaac brought over a jolly, apple-green tyrannosaurus with an LED grid on its body. There was something endearing about seeing a tall, well-built guy like him carry a brightly colored plastic toy for a small child. “Check this out.” When he pressed one of the buttons, the tyrannosaurus began moving its stumpy arms to “If You’re Happy and You Know It.” While the song played, he presented the tyrannosaurus to me with both hands as if he were a knight and I were a queen.

  “That is the wackiest dinosaur I’ve ever seen,” I remarked.

  “Yeah, this tyrannosaurus looks like it’s turned green from munching on too many leaves. According to my research, the kiddos love it though. I’ll go and grab a few more.”

  “Alright, Father Christmas,” I called out.

  We arrived at Seoul Modu Hospital an hour later. After Isaac clicked off his seat belt, he pulled out his phone.

  “Should we hop out?” I asked.

  “Hang on. Let me send my dad a message.”

  “Of course, take your time,” I said, slinging my duffel bag over my shoulder.

  A minute later, Isaac turned to me and shared, “He’s at the hospital today.”

  “Does he need to talk to you?”

  “Yumi, he wants to take photos of us.”

  “Oh.” I glanced at him. It suddenly occurred to me that his father already knew about me. I couldn’t help but wonder what Isaac had said.

  “You don’t mind if we drop by the Department of Orthopedic Surgery, do you?”

  “No, not at all. We need someone to take a photo of us in our costumes,” I said, reminded of our first date and the phone call I had with my mom once I changed my profile picture afterward.

  “Speaking of costumes, should we change here?”

  “Here?” I blushed, pointing at my seat. “Are you joking?”

  He chuckled. “I mean in the back seat. We’ll take turns. You can go first, if you want. We’ve got massive sacks of toys to take with us when we get out of the car. I figured it would be faster and easier if we started off by getting changed here.”

  “Sure. Whatever,” I said as I got out. Then I opened the back door, hopped in, and added, “Don’t look.”

  “I won’t, Tinkerbell,” he assured me, moving his seat forward to give me more space even though I already had plenty of room.

  Once I slipped my coat off, I took the green Tinkerbell dress out of my duffel bag. I wondered if I should’ve put on light pink lipstick instead of my usual deep burgundy one. After I tugged the dress up to my hips, over my jeans, I hurriedly unbuttoned the jeans and wriggled out of them. When I’d taken off my blouse and thermal shirt, I put my hands over my strapless bra and blurted out, “Remember, don’t look.”

  “I wasn’t going to.” He laughed. “You’re not saying this so that I get confused and actually turn around, are you?”

  “Don’t do that,” I said as I pulled the dress up over my chest. Although I didn’t think Isaac would peep, I couldn’t help but feel nervous since he could hear me undress. I pulled out my fairy wings and a blonde wig I’d found at the back of my closet, stuffed my clothes into my duffel bag, and got out of the car again.

  When I’d returned to the passenger seat and Isaac was getting changed in the back, his phone started ringing.

  “Yumi, could you check my phone for me? I think I left it on my seat.”

  After I found his phone wedged between the driver’s seat and the armrest, I turned my head and extended my arm. It was no big deal—I was simply handing him his phone—except his chiseled abs were on full display; he was wearing nothing other than his red Santa pants. My mouth dropped open, but no words came out.

  When our eyes met, he mouthed, “Just a second.”

  I nodded sheepishly, unable to take my eyes off him. From his toned pecs to the prominent V-shape of his Adonis belt, his body was every bit as impressive as it seemed through the T-shirt he’d been wearing the day we first met.

  “Hey, Dad,” Isaac said once he picked up. “Really? Great. We’re about to get out of the car with all the toys. See you soon.”

  While he talked on the phone, I let my thoughts wander. I imagined what it would be like to run my fingers down his firm, muscular torso. Then I pictured our bodies pressed together as we locked lips. Perhaps he’d grunt a little. The scenario made my face heat up.

  When the call ended, he told me, “Forget what I mentioned earlier. We can go straight to the children’s ward. My dad’s waiting over there.”

  “Okay,” I muttered between deep breaths, trying to calm myself. “Should we go?”

  “Once I put on my jacket and hat. Check out the pom-pom on this hat though. I can’t believe this is new. It’s going to fall off any minute.”

  I opened the door and said, “I’ll wait outside the car.”

  “You don’t want to take another look?” Isaac called out.

  “What?”

  “Yumi, I saw what you were doing while I was on the phone. You were eyeing me up and down. Also, nice wig. You make a cute blonde.”

  Whenever Isaac mentioned his father, I pictured a stern man, as tall and broad-shouldered as him, with a menacing glare. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Although Dr. Bong was around the same height as his son, he seemed smaller. He was a lanky man who looked as if he never left the science lab. His glasses gave off a bit of a Clark Kent vibe.

  “You must be Yumi,” Dr. Bong said once I bowed. “Isaac told me you guys would be helping out at the hospital today for your class project.”

  Isaac explained, “He thought we should’ve gone for matching costumes. After I told him being Mr. and Mrs. Claus would be passé, his reply was, ‘No, you should’ve been Hook.’”

  I chortled. “Not Peter Pan?”

  “You see, I wanted to be Peter Pan,” Dr. Bong joked.

  “Aw, you should’ve joined us and come in costume,” I replied.

  “Truth be told, it’s much more fun to see you two dress up than to wear one myself,” Dr. Bong replied. He handed Isaac a Bluetooth speaker. “Here. Use this to play Christmas songs to the kids.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You kn
ow how to use it, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Do you want to take the photo of Yumi and me now?” Isaac asked as he took his phone out of his pocket and passed it to Dr. Bong.

  To be honest, I couldn’t get used to wearing a flimsy green dress. Ordinarily, I didn’t mind wearing short skirts, but the skirts never felt as skimpy when they were black. I hadn’t worn green, or any other bright color for that matter, since high school, so being in the Tinkerbell dress left me feeling more exposed and vulnerable than sporting the tiniest black leather miniskirt with a slit.

  While Isaac and I posed for our photo in the hallway with our sacks of presents stacked on the waiting chairs behind us, a girl with an IV stand came toward us.

  The girl tugged on Isaac’s pants and asked, “Are you Santa?”

  “Gina, baby, what are you doing?” the girl’s mother called out, chasing after her.

  As Dr. Bong pressed the shutter button again, Isaac ruffled her short hair.

  “You’re not really Santa,” the girl said with a mischievous grin.

  “Shh.” Isaac pressed his finger against his pursed lips. “You’re right. I’m trying to keep this a secret.”

  The girl proceeded to put her small hand on my hips. “But you… you’re a real fairy!”

  Isaac, Dr. Bong, and the girl’s mother all broke into laughter.

  “Remember to send me these photos later, Isaac,” Dr. Bong mentioned. “These photos would be perfect for a Christmas card.”

  When Isaac and I arrived in the play area of the children’s ward, the room was already half full. Although most of the children were elementary-school-aged, there were also toddlers and teenagers. Some of them were accompanied by their parents, while others were sitting with their peers. We laid our red sacks down behind us while they stared at us with eager eyes.

  “Santa! Santa! Santa!” a few of the older girls chanted, clapping their hands. I presumed they were trying to keep the atmosphere light and cheerful; they were clearly past the age of believing Santa was real. Besides, even with a taped-on beard, Isaac looked far too young.