by Sarah Suk
Damn it. If I was going to act, I’d have to do it now. I opened my locker and gingerly took out the rose. I glanced at the one in Pauline’s hand.
“From Charlie?” I asked.
She smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll tell you about it later. Good luck with Valerie.”
“Right. Thanks.”
The hallways had mostly cleared of students, and for a second I was worried that she would be gone. I speed walked to her locker, passing by teachers tidying up their classrooms, a storage room with the door left ajar, and a couple of freshmen giggling over their Valentine’s cards.
And then I saw her. Down the hall. She was standing at her locker, wearing a red dress, her hair in a bun on top of her head, held up with a heart-printed scrunchie.
I watched her for a second, my heart pounding in my chest. Then, as if sensing my stare, she looked up and stared straight at me.
We looked at each other. And then I did what anyone would do if Valerie Kwon was staring at them with her piercing eyes.
I ducked into the storage room, held open by a shoe, and hid.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN VALERIE
Friday / February 14
Um, okay. That was weird. I blinked, staring at the spot where Wes had disappeared. I closed my locker and walked to the storage room.
I opened the door and stepped inside, kicking aside a random shoe on the floor and looking around. The storage room was filled mostly with stuff for the theater students. Amelia Perry’s domain. Costumes from the school’s latest production of The Wizard of Oz hung on coatracks; feather boas draped over boxes of glitter and face paint slotted neatly into the shelves. The door clicked shut behind me as I turned on the lights, a row of bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling flickering to life.
“Wes?” I called out.
There was a pause and then a shuffle, and then Wes poked his head out from behind a coatrack of old Shakespeare costumes. “Oh, hey, Valerie,” he said, trying very hard to sound casual and failing miserably at it. “What are you doing here?”
I raised my eyebrow, folding my arms across my chest. “Really?”
He smiled sheepishly. I rolled my eyes and laughed. When had I become someone who laughed so easily?
“Come on, let’s get out of here and talk outside,” I said. I reached for the doorknob, but to my surprise, the door didn’t open. I jiggled it again, turning it to the left and then to the right, a dawning realization creeping up my back.
I cleared my throat. “Wes, you wouldn’t happen to have a key, would you?”
“A key?” Wes came up beside me, his hands clasped behind his back. “No, but there was a shoe keeping the door open, wasn’t there?”
A shoe? I looked down at the old boot I had kicked aside when I walked into the room.
“You mean that shoe?” I said.
His eyes followed my gaze. He nodded grimly. “That’ll be the one.”
We stared at the shoe and then at each other, and then we burst out laughing.
“My bad,” I said. “I’ll call Charlie and ask him to find the janitor or something.”
It wasn’t until Charlie’s phone rang straight to voicemail that I remembered he was at basketball practice. He never checked his phone when he was playing ball. I left him a message and then a text for good measure.
“He’ll probably come after practice,” I said. I was suddenly aware of how close Wes and I were standing and how very alone we were in this storage room. Just the two of us. My palms felt way too clammy. I wiped them against my dress, cursing myself for leaving my fanny pack of strawberry Hi-Chews inside my locker. “Maybe I’ll try calling someone else—”
“Wait.”
Wes looked just as nervous as me, like he was trying to decide whether or not he should bungee jump off a cliff into the ocean. He took a deep breath and smiled, a warm smile that sent tingles up and down my arms. “I, um, got something for you.”
He carefully brought out a single long-stemmed red rose from behind his back. Every thought in my mind immediately stilled except for one: He got me a rose.
Not just any rose. A Valentine’s Day rose.
“This is for me?” My voice came out with an edge of suspicion, even though what I was feeling was more disbelief. He got flowers? For me?
He nodded shyly. “Yeah.” And then a crease between his eyebrows. A look of uncertainty. “Do you hate it?”
“No!” I said too loudly. I cleared my throat and tried again. “No. I like it. It’s just, um… I’ve never gotten flowers before. From anyone. So I don’t know exactly how to respond or what to even do with my face. Like, am I glaring at you right now? I feel like I’m glaring.”
“Yeah, you’re glaring a little,” he laughed.
I laughed too and covered my eyes with one hand. God, talk about oversharing. He’d caught me so off guard, I didn’t even know what I was saying anymore. All I knew was that my heart was racing inside my chest and no amount of Hi-Chews would be able to calm it down. And the weirdest part? I wasn’t even sure if I’d want to calm my heart down if I could. The way I was feeling right now was unlike anything I’d ever felt before, and I didn’t think I wanted it to go away.
There was a pause between us, a moment where I could almost feel Wes mustering up his courage, deciding again whether or not he should jump off the cliff. He reached out and gently touched my hand, lowering it from my eyes so we were staring directly at each other. His fingers wrapped around mine, our palms pressed lightly together. My breath caught.
He’s your enemy, I reminded myself. Don’t forget about the bet. But for some reason, all I could think about was what it would be like to kiss him on those lips, to have him kiss me back.
He held the rose between us. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Valerie,” he said.
And then he leaned in.
Or maybe I leaned in.
I don’t know who did first, but when his eyelids closed behind his glasses, I know mine did too. Our lips pressed together, hands held, bodies close, the smell of rose petals and storage-room paint caught between us. My whole body hummed with the nearness of him.
Our kiss started light and soft and then grew deeper, his hand that held the rose moving to press against the small of my back. It was intoxicating. I never wanted it to end. I would move into this storage room, start V&C K-BEAUTY 2.0 in here. This was where I lived now.
The doorknob rattled and we sprang apart just as the door swung open, revealing Charlie and Amelia Perry holding the storage-room key on the other side.
Amelia raised an eyebrow at us, looking back and forth between me and Wes. “What are you two doing in here?”
“I, um, left my backpack here,” Wes said. “I came to get it.”
“Really?” Amelia said, craning her neck to look behind him. “Where is it, then?
He froze and then laughed, running his hand through the back of his hair. “Oh, whoops. I guess it’s not in here after all.”
Wow, he was truly a terrible liar. We shuffled out of the storage room, my lips still tingling, replaying the kiss over and over again in my head. I wanted to sing, to dance, to shout, What! Just! Happened!!!! But mostly I wanted to kiss him again.
Instead I turned to Charlie, hoping my cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt. “Thanks for coming to get us.”
“No problem,” he said, his grin a little too knowing for my liking. “Basketball practice got canceled last minute, so I was able to see your message. Lucky for you, Amelia was at theater rehearsal with her storage-room key.”
“Which I should get back to. The stage calls my name,” Amelia said. She gave a pointed look to Wes as she skipped down the hall. “Hope you find your backpack, Wes.”
“Thanks,” he said, blushing.
“Anyway, Val, I’m heading out now if you want a ride home,” Charlie said.
I nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.”
“Oh, and Wes?” Charlie held up a fist. “Thanks for the talk earlier. You give good advice. Can I get your numbe
r in case I want to text you for more help?”
“Sure, man,” Wes said. He looked surprised and just a little dazed, but he quickly returned the fist bump and gave Charlie his number. Then he turned to me and cleared his throat, holding out the rose. “Don’t forget this.”
If my cheeks weren’t warm before, they definitely were now. I glanced at Charlie, but he just grinned, looking away to give us a moment of privacy. I took the rose from Wes, careful not to bend the stem.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling suddenly shy around him. This was a new feeling. Everything with Wes felt new.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
I turned to leave, following Charlie down the hallway. As I walked, I couldn’t help but sneak a look back at Wes. He was staring at the storage room, touching his lips with two fingers, a smile spreading across his face.
My heart sang.
I was in trouble.
* * *
“Halmeoni, Halmeoni, Halmeoni!”
I tossed my backpack onto the living room couch and raced up the stairs as soon as I got home. Halmeoni was resting in her floor bed when I burst into her room.
“Guess what happened today?” I said. I paused, taking in how tired she looked. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes, I just had some trouble sleeping last night, so I thought I’d try to squeeze in a nap,” she said, sitting up. She patted the blanket for me to sit down. “But I’d much rather talk to you. Tell me what happened.” Her eyes grew huge. “Let me guess. You won the lottery.”
“What? No, that’s ridiculous,” I laughed.
“Ah. Well, your halmeoni can dream, can’t she? Okay, tell me. What is it?”
I had been so excited to tell Halmeoni about the kiss, but as I looked at her now, I was filled with so much affection. For her, for her Pompompurin nightgown, for first kisses, for moments that I knew I would never forget. No words could express that, and for now I didn’t even want to try. I just wanted to feel it. There was always tomorrow for stories.
“Nothing,” I said simply. I lay down, resting my head in her lap. “I just wanted to say hi.”
“What? Silly girl,” Halmeoni said, swatting my leg. “What is it? Tell me!”
I tilted my face up toward her and smiled. “Just that I did what you said. I made a new friend.”
A big smile broke out across her face, and she patted my cheeks with both hands like I was the flour dough she used to make sujebi, her favorite hand-torn noodle soup. “Did you now? Aigoo, jalhaesseo. You did good. See how much more fun life is when you let people in? Halmeoni knows what is best.”
I beamed, letting both the moment and her wrinkled hands hold me close. “Are you sure you’re okay, Halmeoni? I don’t want to interrupt your nap.”
“After hearing this good news? I’m not even tired anymore.”
Later that night, I dug out the bag of tropical Hi-Chews Wes had given me and unwrapped a pineapple one. I held it to my lips and paused. Wes said that pineapple was for when things were hopeful and right, like when everything was what it was meant to be. But were things right? What did kissing Wes mean for the bet? For Paris?
I hesitated and then put the Hi-Chew in my mouth because, despite it all, if ever there were a pineapple Hi-Chew kind of day, it was definitely today.
Saturday / February 15
Ding!
I woke up to the sound of my phone pinging with a message. Groggy, I fumbled for the phone on my nightstand, immediately sitting up in bed when I saw the name on the screen.
Wes: Hi, good morning! I have an audition with Toblie School of Music tomorrow so I’ll be practicing all day today, but I was wondering if you wanted to hang out on Monday?
A dot-dot-dot appeared on the screen, disappearing and then reappearing several times before another message appeared.
Wes: Wish I could see you sooner.
I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. Wes wanted to hang out on Monday. It was a holiday, so we had no school. Was this a date? And he had an audition! I quickly replied, wishing him luck and saying yes yes yes to the hangout.
I flopped back down, staring up at the ceiling with my phone against my chest. So it hadn’t been a dream. I pressed my fingers lightly against my lips, remembering what it had felt like to kiss Wes. The sparks, the warmth, the feeling of wanting to do it again and again and again.
A feeling of uneasiness interrupted my state of bliss. I kissed Wes. What did this mean for the bet? Was the bet still on, even?
I looked at the photos on the wall next to my bed. It was a random collage of life snapshots, aesthetic K-beauty products, and color palettes, but my eye went immediately to the sticker photos that Halmeoni and I had taken together just a few months ago. If I called off the bet, that meant no Paris this summer. And if not this summer, maybe it would be never.
But maybe, I thought hopefully, maybe it could be one day. Halmeoni was healthy this year. She could be healthy enough next year too or the year after. I could work it around college somehow. Just because nothing was certain didn’t mean I had to jump to the worst conclusion.
And what about Umma? I closed my eyes and sighed. If I didn’t have Paris, I’d have nothing to prove to her that I could do big, meaningful things like Samantha. But Wes’s words came back to me, steady and strong: You’re really good at this stuff. The whole business thing. I really mean it when I say thanks.
Was it worth it to give up on someone who saw something in me just to try to prove something to someone who didn’t?
The answer was painful, but clear. I had to call off the bet. There was no way we could keep going. Not after that kiss. We couldn’t go back to how we used to be. Competing. Spying. Being rivals.
That reminded me. I still hadn’t paid Taemin back for spying on Wes for me that one time. A wave of fresh guilt washed over me. Another thing I had done against Wes when he was nothing but kind to me. I chewed my lip as I raised my phone again, texting Taemin.
Me: Hey! You free today? I owe you a bingsu.
His response came a couple minutes later.
Taemin: Finally. I can meet u at Snow Bunny in 2 hours?
Me: See you there.
I rolled out of bed with a fresh wave of determination. Meeting Taemin felt symbolic in a way. Treating him to bingsu would be my final action regarding the bet, and after that I would tell Wes that it was over. I would call the bet off and we would have a fresh start.
Spurred by my resolve, I quickly started getting ready. I pulled on a chunky knit sweater and grabbed my purse, shoving my wallet, bus pass, lip balm, and emergency Hi-Chews inside.
Halmeoni was still sleeping when I went downstairs, but Umma and Samantha were busy in the kitchen as always. It looked like a kimbap factory in here. The table was laid out with dried rectangular seaweed sheets, a giant bowl of steaming rice, and trays of eggs, spinach, sausages, and danmuji all sliced into long strips to fit into the kimbap rolls.
“You’re up early,” Samantha said, looking up from the kimbap she was rolling. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in this morning light before.”
“Meeting a friend,” I said. I was too giddy to be fazed by Samantha today. “You’re here cooking extra early too.”
“Umma asked me to come over to help her make kimbap,” Samantha said.
She’d called Samantha instead of asking me when I was right upstairs? And Samantha came running to help? For kimbap? There really was no topping my older sister. Normally, this might have bothered me, but today I decided to shrug it off, reaching for a piece of sliced kimbap instead. “Can I have one before I go?”
Umma slapped my hand away. “Yah! This is for Appa’s work meeting later,” she said. “If you want one, you can have an end piece.”
“I like the end pieces,” I retorted, even though it was a lie. No one likes the end pieces. They’re always falling apart and too big to fit in your mouth in one go. But I grabbed it anyway and shoved it in my mouth, losing a piece of spinach on the way.
“Mmm. So yummy.”
“Is it?” Umma said, looking pleased with herself.
“Yes. Samantha, you should try one. That piece in the middle looks good.” I specifically pointed at a piece with a particularly large slice of danmuji. I knew for a fact that Samantha hated that yellow radish. She always avoided it when we went out to eat jjajangmyeon, which was wild because black bean noodles with danmuji is basically the best combo ever.
“Yes, yes, Samantha, you should try one too.” Umma picked up the piece and held it out for Samantha to eat. “You try it too and tell me what you think.”
Samantha eyed the danmuji inside the roll and pursed her lips. If I were her, I would just take the radish out even if it would make Umma upset. But of course, Samantha is Samantha, so she opened her mouth and ate the kimbap without a word.
“So good,” she said, smiling tightly. She forced herself to swallow and then reached for her water. “By the way, Valerie, how did all your school applications go?” she asked, her eyes sparking with revenge. How dare she. She knew that Umma would jump on a chance to nag me about my grades if she started talking about applications. “Deadline was in January, right?”
“Yep,” I said. I’d been trying not to think about it since I sent in my applications to my top-choice business programs. Ms. Jackson had written me a glowing recommendation, and my personal essay was strong. But still, unwanted doubt settled in my bones. What if I didn’t get in?
“What are you going to do if you don’t get in?” Samantha asked, like she was reading my thoughts.
Umma glanced up from the kimbap rolling. “You said your grades have been good lately, Valerie. Have they not been good?”
I scowled. “They’ve been good. I will get in.”
“I’m just saying, it’s always good to have a plan B,” Samantha said. “I’m just looking out for you, since you seem kind of spacey these days. You have to keep your focus up until the end of the school year, you know. Even if those schools accept you in the spring, it’s conditional acceptance based off your performance for the rest of the year.”