by Axie Oh
“Our manager came early and waited in line,” Jaewoo explains.
Poor Nam Ji Seok. “Is that in his job description?”
“Placating needy and hungry boys?” Nathaniel answers. “Yes.”
Angela keeps sneaking glances at Jaewoo from across the table, probably assuming he’s sitting with us because Nathaniel and Sori are.
“We’re just here to eat lunch,” Jaewoo says, “then we have to go back to the studio.”
“You came all the way here to eat lunch?” This from Gi Taek.
“Today was macaron day,” Nathaniel says. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
As Nathaniel engages Gi Taek and Angela in a conversation about the merits of dining-hall food, Jaewoo shifts closer to me.
“You haven’t tried the macaron yet?”
I’m a bit overwhelmed by his presence. The chairs in the dining hall are already pretty close together, and he’s leaning toward me. I can smell his cologne, a subtle, fresh scent, like a sea breeze.
“I was saving it for last,” I tell him, “but Nathaniel makes a good argument.”
I reach for the macaron and bring it to my lips. I feel self-conscious, because he’s watching me, but then I bite down and the sweet explosion of flavors in my mouth is incredible. The combination of the crisp outside and the soft and chewy inside, plus the raspberry buttercream in the middle.
I groan, “It’s heavenly.”
“Yeah?” Jaewoo laughs, a bit unsteadily.
With his chopsticks, he picks up his macaron and places it on my tray. “Have mine too.”
I beam at him. He’s giving me his macaron. It’s like he’s giving me his heart.
I look up to find Sori studying us, her expression unreadable.
“No, it’s fine,” I say. “You should eat it.” I return the macaron to his tray.
“If you’re not going to eat it, I will.” Nathaniel reaches over, grabs Jaewoo’s macaron, and pops it into his mouth.
That night, I’m sitting on my bed writing a paper for history class, when Sori abruptly turns toward me from where she’d been doing homework at her desk. I almost yelp in surprise because she’s wearing a bright-red sheet mask
“So, you and Jaewoo.” It’s a statement.
“Me and Jaewoo, what?”
“Don’t be cute with me.” She looks away, taps her heel against the bottom of her chair, then returns her gaze. “You’re not worried that I’ll tell my mom?”
“Will you?” Honestly, it never occurred to me. She might be the daughter of Joah’s CEO, but she’s also my friend.
Still, she takes her sweet time in answering, taking off her sheet mask and using the tips of her fingers to tap the essence into her skin. She’s wearing a Minnie Mouse towel headband to keep her hair from her face, which she adjusts.
“No,” she says, after I’ve pretty much watched her preen herself for a minute and a half. “Before I was your roommate or even Nathaniel’s girlfriend, I was Jaewoo’s friend. He deserves this.”
“He deserves . . . me?” I grin. “’Cause I’m so great?”
She rolls her eyes. “He deserves to be happy.”
“Wow.” I didn’t think anything so cliché could feel so good. She thinks I make him happy?
She continues, “I don’t want to say, ‘you don’t know him like I do.’”
“You just said it,” I point out.
“Because I’m sure you’re bound to know him way more intimately than I’ve ever known him . . .”
Oh. My. God.
“But his life hasn’t been the easiest. Not that wealth necessarily makes things easier.”
Spoken like a true chaebol.
“But Nathaniel’s always been vocal about what he wants, while Jaewoo’s more reserved, thinking of the group first before himself. Honestly, I’m surprised he even confessed to you, assuming that he has. It must have been hard for him, going after something he wants, rather than what’s best for the group.”
“Aww.”
“Though I don’t know why. It’s not like you’re worth it.”
“Wow, Sori. I thought we were complimenting me.”
“Oh, were we?” She grins.
“You don’t have to worry about Jaewoo,” I say. “I’ll be sure to take care of his gentle artist soul.”
“Yes, be sure to take care of his soul,” she says, then adds, “and his body.”
“Oh my God!” I throw my pillow at her. She sprints to her bed and grabs a stuffed animal. She has like a hundred. After we “became friends,” they all started appearing out of seemingly nowhere. I think she’d hidden them beneath her bed.
I’m pelted with a Pikachu.
“Not fair!” I throw my arms up over my head, taking cover.
Then she’s on my bed, pillow in hand. She goes for a headshot, but I tackle her and she collapses backward, with me on top. I can’t breathe, I’m laughing so hard.
“You’re heavy!” she complains, and I make myself like a log. “I hate this,” she says, though she’s laughing as hard as I am. And her laugh is louder than mine; plus she snorts. Our neighbors bang on the wall for us to be quiet, which only causes us to laugh more.
It takes another five minutes for us to catch our breaths, laying with our shoulders touching.
“Would you do it again?” I ask her.
I don’t have to explain myself. She knows what I’m asking. If she turned back time and she had the choice of whether or not she’d date Nathaniel, would she do it all over again?
“In a heartbeat. Even after the scandal, even after the accusations and the heartbreak and the pain. He was my first love. I wouldn’t give that up for the world.”
Twenty-Five
Spring means cherry blossom season and SAA’s annual school camping trip to one of South Korea’s national parks, which apparently was on the official academic calendar on the website. I hadn’t known because no one mentioned it until a few days before we’re supposed to leave.
“It happens every year,” Gi Taek explained. “You’re just”—he shrugged—“supposed to know.”
“I’m a transfer student!”
“The school sent out an email.”
“If it was in Korean, then I didn’t read it.”
“You really should work on your reading skills.”
The night before we’re scheduled to leave, Sori and I pack for the trip. It’s a two day, one night trip, and each student is allowed to pack one small duffel bag.
“Are you going to be okay?” I ask Sori, who isn’t exactly a minimalist.
“Shut up. Actually, can you pack my makeup case in your bag? Oh, and my face roller?”
“You don’t need two sets of pajamas,” I tell her, when I see her reaching for both her pink silk pj’s and her LINE FRIENDS shorts and T-shirt.
She spears me with a look. “‘Need is relative.’”
When she sees me packing my dad’s old shirt, she eyes me judgingly. “Jenny.” That’s all she says. Just my name. Like it’s a synonym for disappointment.
“What?”
“This is a two day, one night trip.”
“Yeah, I know.” I finally read the information page on the school’s website, which had a translate option.
“As in, we’ll be sleeping overnight somewhere with our classmates.”
“Don’t we do that anyway?” I ask. “I mean, we live in a dorm.”
“As in, the girls and boys will be in the same building, likely a small house in the middle of nowhere, with little to no supervision. As in, Jaewoo will be there. As in, you can get into his pants or vice versa or both.”
For someone who’s super into Hello Kitty, she can be quite crass.
“Wait, he’s going on the trip?” He hasn’t been in school the past couple weeks. And I have no means of contacting him because his phone is still being monitored. I guess I could contact him through Sori, but I also don’t want to get either of them into trouble.
“Jenny, no one misses t
his trip.”
This sounds more ominous than excitement-inducing, yet consider my excitement induced.
“Better,” Sori says when I hold up a pajama set. Though, as someone who’s stuffing a hairdryer into a twenty-two-inch duffel, her packing priorities don’t exactly inspire confidence.
The day of the trip dawns dreary with rain clouds, but that doesn’t stop every student at SAA, even those who don’t stay at the dorms but with their families in Seoul, from arriving on time, duffel in hand, beside the long stretch of buses outside the academy.
Every student, that is, except for the members of XOXO.
“I thought you said they’d be here,” I hiss at Sori.
“Maybe not.” She doesn’t look happy, her eyes scanning the crowd.
“Morning!” Angela calls, walking over arm-in-arm with Gi Taek. She’s wearing a neon green rain poncho over a matching track suit set. Gi Taek’s dressed just as stylishly in what is presumably a Japanese brand, if the kanji logo stitched onto the pant leg is any indication. They definitely took the lax dress code for the field trip and ran with it.
“Good morning,” I say, and accept a hug from them both. As I step back, I have this weird out of body experience where I flashback to only a few months ago, walking onto the LACHSA campus. I never would have imagined hugging a classmate. And now, it feels so natural, so damn heartwarming, to greet Gi Taek and Angela in this way.
They both look at me strangely; I must have a weird expression on my face.
“Do you think we have assigned seats?” I ask, covering up my attack of affection with a question. “Or can we sit anywhere on the bus?”
“We probably just have assigned buses,” Gi Taek says.
Of course, he’s right.
Gi Taek, Angela, and I high-five when our homeroom classes are assigned to the same bus. We give our duffels to the driver who’s stacking them neatly in the storage compartment beneath the bus. After boarding, we realize most of the seats in the back are filled so Sori and I take seats in the middle, with Gi Taek and Angela directly behind us. Our class monitors hand out food prepared by the cafeteria—bottles of water and gimbap wrapped in tinfoil.
I hold out hope until the last possible moment that Jaewoo might still show up. Seated by the window, I have a clear view of the curbside as the last of the students board the buses, until only the security guard remains, shutting the gates to the school. I turn from the window to see Sori craning her neck for a glimpse. Our gazes meet and she shakes her head.
After that, I try to resign myself to a fun field trip with my friends. It’s never too early for gimbap, so I unwrap mine and eat it like a burrito. The smorgasbord of ingredients is like a symphony in my mouth—seasoned and sautéed carrots, spinach, and burdock root, plus imitation crab, yellow pickled radish, and bulgogi, neatly encased in rice and laver seaweed and sprinkled with sesame seeds.
“I wasn’t hungry,” Sori says, when I emerge from my food-bliss to find her staring at me. “But now I kind of am.”
As we wind our way out of Seoul, Sori and I play phone games, and I take a selfie with Sori smiling prettily and Gi Taek and Angela making funny faces behind us to send to Halmeoni.
The chattering dies down as people plug into their music or settle in for a nap. I open my own music app, and soon Rachmaninoff and the drone of the bus on the road lull me to sleep.
Twenty-Six
Sori shakes me awake an hour and a half later and I see that we’ve pulled into a rest stop. Half of the students have already disembarked, and there’s no sign of Gi Taek and Angela.
“We have thirty minutes,” Sori says. “Hurry up, I have to pee.”
I quickly stand, letting Sori haul me off the bus.
Students from all the buses are making their way into a large single-story building, with cars and tourist buses parked outside it. Outside the rest stop, there’s a few food carts—one selling hot dogs, slathered in batter and fried, another selling manju, custard-filled walnut pastries in the shape of husks of corn. There’s also a coffee cart and several vending machines.
Inside the rest stop a food court offers a variety of ramyeon and udon to traditional Korean fare like bibimbap and hot soup dishes that you can order and pick up at different service counters. There’s also a fairly large convenience store. I spot Gi Taek and Angela inside, loading up on snacks and bottled drinks.
“Hey,” Sori says, “are you going to the bathroom?”
“No, I went before we left. Also my bladder isn’t as tiny as yours.”
She rolls her eyes and leaves in pursuit of the restrooms.
Most of the students are in the convenience store, with a few ordering hot meals at the counter. I’m still full from the gimbap, so I head outside in search of that coffee cart.
A few of the other people at the rest stop have the same idea because the line is long. Luckily, it moves pretty fast, and in about five minutes I’m at the front. I order a latte and reach for my wallet.
Which isn’t on me, but where I left it, in my backpack on the bus. I don’t have to look behind me to know that the amount of people has doubled from when I first got in line. Right after, a Japanese tour bus arrived at the rest stop, letting out a lot of caffeine-dependent adults.
The vendor looks at me pityingly.
“I’ll pay for her.”
I almost have whiplash, with how fast my head turns.
Jaewoo casually leans against the counter. He hands over a credit card. “I’m paying you back,” he says, “for all that food you bought me in LA.”
“Oh, is that what’s happening?” I say, glad that my voice comes out normal, teasing, “Then I’d like to visit a few more stalls.”
He’s come. He’s here.
And he looks so good. He’s wearing a light-blue button-up shirt, his hair swept back from his face, and slick aviators.
“Student,” the vendor says, “your coffee?”
I turn to accept, blushing furiously.
Jaewoo and I leave the line, heading in the general direction of the buses. I’m suddenly overcome with a feeling of awkwardness. How am I supposed to act around him? The last time we were alone, we made out for half an hour on a swing set.
Of course right now we’re not exactly alone. Our classmates are within sight, most chatting outside the rest stop, a few running around in an effort to get their muscles loosened before we have to get back on the bus for another two hours.
“So,” I say, trying to act casual. “You’re going on the field trip?”
He doesn’t appear to have brought anything with him, a duffel or a backpack.
“Yeah, I was worried we wouldn’t make it. We just flew back from Japan this morning.”
“Do you do . . . promotions in Japan . . . often?”
A cry goes up behind us.
Outside the restroom, I spot Nathaniel surrounded by the group of Japanese tourists. He appears unfazed, throwing up peace signs and posing for selfies.
“Yeah,” Jaewoo answers. “Jenny.” He turns to me, a slight smile on his face. “I wanted to ask you—”
“There you are.” Sori practically barrels into me. “I was looking all over for you. I was sure I’d find you outside one of the food stands.”
“Ha, very funny.”
“Oh, Jaewoo,” she says, as if she’d just noticed he was standing right next to me. “I didn’t think you’d show up.”
“My manager dropped me off.”
“That’s nice. Well, Jenny and I have to be getting onto the bus. See ya!” She grabs my arm and pulls me away.
“Wait,” I start.
“Act natural.” Sori pinches my arm. “Look behind my left shoulder, what do you see?”
I follow her gaze despite being super annoyed with her. I haven’t seen Jaewoo in a few weeks. You’d think she’d let me have a moment alone with him. What was he about to ask me? “I see Jaewoo.”
“Oh my God, Jenny. Look farther.” Concentrating, I look beyond Jaewoo to where Jina
and her friends are grouped together outside the rest stop. Jina has her phone out and it’s angled in our direction.
“Is she . . . ?”
“She could be taking photos, I don’t know. But you have to be more careful.”
I feel a chill run down my back. The idea that while Jaewoo and I were talking someone was watching us, taking photos of us, is disturbing, especially if the person is Jina, who for sure has only malicious intentions.
“Do you think she got any incriminating photos?”
“I don’t think so. You two weren’t standing that close. Plus I walked into the shot, and Jina wouldn’t dare post a photo with me in it. She might target me at school, but if she posted a picture, my mother would get involved, and . . . even Jina doesn’t want to piss off the CEO of Joah.”
I take Sori’s arm, squeezing. “I’m so glad you’re on my team,” I tell her. “You’re like my ace in the hole,” I add, in English.
“I have no idea what you’re saying. Speak Korean.” But then she adds in her cute accented English, “But, yes, I am ace.”
A few minutes later, Jina and her friends board the bus, whispering to each other as they pass by me, then Gi Taek and Angela, followed by Nathaniel and Jaewoo. The rest of our class is already on board, and at the sight of them, a cheer goes up. Nathaniel bows, and Jaewoo’s eyes scan the bus, as if in search of me. I sit lower in my seat. Can he be more obvious? Eventually they take seats in the front row, across from our homeroom teacher.
I wanted Jaewoo to come on this field trip, but now I’m not so sure. I thought leaving Seoul would give us opportunities to be together, but with so many of our classmates joining us, I think it might make things harder to keep whatever we have a secret.
Still, this is my first time outside of Seoul, my first time in the Korean countryside, and soon my excitement takes over and I push my worries to the back of my mind.
The landscape changes the farther we travel from the city. Beautiful swathes of farmland stretch for acres across a hilly terrain broken up by trees and country dirt roads. Farmers plant spring crops in the fields, shading their eyes with their gloved hands as they pause in their work to watch the train of buses rumble by.