“Changwan-ah, no one likes a nag.”
Changwan scowled and Jihoon added a friendly smile. One that said he meant no harm but knew he spoke the truth. He wielded his grin like a weapon, a crooked tilt of his lips that revealed deep dimples. When he used it, few could stay mad. It worked, as Changwan gave a reluctant smile.
Outside, Jihoon took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of car exhaust and simmering oxtail from the seolleongtang restaurant down the street. He swung an arm around his friend’s shoulder as they walked in and out of the sun that peeked between the tall buildings.
“Is it me, or does the morning always smell fresher after the thrill of victory?”
“It smells like someone needs to clean their fish tanks.” Changwan scrunched his face at the seafood store. Jihoon followed his gaze to one of the giant glass aquariums, the bulging eyes of a flounder stared back.
The city bus pulled up, and Jihoon slapped Changwan’s shoulder cheerfully. “Come on, don’t want to be late.”
They were late.
By the time they reached the school, the front gate sat closed, a signal that class had started without them. Jihoon helped boostChangwan over the side wall before climbing up himself. He miscalculated the distance and his pant leg caught.
“Aissi!” Jihoon grimaced at the long rip in the calf of his beige pants.
He’d had a growth spurt the past year, making him the tallest in his class. It also made him unintentionally clumsy.
The school was a U-shaped building with long narrow hallways, lined on one side by classrooms and on the other by wide windows facing the inner courtyard and sports fields. The building was old, and there was no central heat to warm the halls in the brisk fall chill.
They snuck into the back of the classroom with ten minutes left in homeroom. The teacher, Miss Kwon, was still addressing the class.
“I’d like to remind everyone that now is not the time to slack off.” She zeroed in on Jihoon. “Next year is your third and final year of high school. It’s our job to prepare you. And your job to learn.”
“Yes, Sunsaengnim,” the class chorused.
“That’s it for today,” Miss Kwon said.
The class president stood. “Attention. Salute.”
“Thank you,” the students chorused as they bowed in unison.
Instead of leaving, Miss Kwon walked down the aisle and knocked on Jihoon’s desk. “If you come in late again, it’s detention.”
“Yes, Sunsaengnim.” Changwan bowed so low, his forehead smacked his desk beside Jihoon.
“Saem, you say that like spending more time with you is a punishment.” Jihoon accompanied the words with a lazy grin.
Miss Kwon fought the smile that eventually bloomed across her face. “I’m serious, Ahn Jihoon.”
“So am I,” Jihoon replied without missing a beat. He widened his smile so his dimples flashed.
Miss Kwon let out a soft chuckle despite herself. “It’s my last warning,” she said before exiting the classroom.
As soon as she cleared the back door, the peace of the room erupted into the chaos of kids jumping up from their seats to join their friends.
Changwan shook his head. “I don’t know why teachers let you talk like that.”
“It’s because of my charm and good looks.”
“It’s because he’s so ridiculous, they have to laugh or else they’d scream.” Lee Somin stepped up to the boys’ joined desks. She was 158 centimeters of attitude packed in a petite package who’d known Jihoon since they were in diapers.
She glanced at the kid sitting in front of Jihoon. “Get lost.”
The boy scurried from his chair like a startled rabbit.
Jihoon took in his best friend. Somin dressed like a handbook for how to break dress code: her uniform shirt unbuttoned to reveal a graphic tee beneath; her nails painted black. Her hair was different again. Somin’s look changed with the seasons, a girl who could never make up her mind. It gave Jihoon whiplash, but he also hated change. It took too much effort. Today her short hair was dyed bright red, and she looked as fired up as her locks right now.