MIYOUNG AND JIHOONstarted regularly eating on the steps.
It looked like rain on Friday, but they still walked out to the courtyard at lunchtime, wrapped tightly in puffy winter coats. Miyoung slowed as she approached their normal spot.
Ugly red paint smeared the faded concrete:MURDERER;PLASTICGIJIBAE;GETOUT OF OUR SCHOOL!
She moved toward it, fully intending to sit despite the fact that the paint was obviously still wet.
“Wait!” Jihoon said. “One minute, okay? Wait for me to come back.”
Jihoon sprinted away without waiting for a reply.
As Miyoung stared at the angry words, the door behind her opened again.
Somin stood in the doorway. “What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”
“I’m...” Miyoung trailed off before she could think of what to say. But it didn’t matter. Somin spotted the graffiti and let out a few choice curses that made Miyoung’s brows rise, impressed.
Before either girl could speak again, Jihoon returned. Water sloshed out of the bucket he carried, two mops and a few rags awkwardly gripped in his other hand.
“What are you doing here?” Jihoon asked Somin, and the hard tone annoyed Miyoung.
“Oh, can you two quit already?”
Somin and Jihoon both stared at her, but no one was more surprised than Miyoung at the outburst. Then she realized she didn’t feel sorry for saying it. In fact, it felt good.
“You’ve known each other your whole life. Do you know how special that is? If you’re going to throw away your friendship, then fine, that’s your choice, but it’s not going to be because of a fight that involves me. I didn’t ask for any part in this.”
Somin and Jihoon were quiet a moment, probably shocked into silence, or perhaps neither wanted to be the first to speak.
“I’m sorry for giving you the cold shoulder,” Somin finally said.
“I’m sorry for keeping secrets,” Jihoon said.
“Well, I guess I should trust that they’re important if you’re keeping them from me.”
Jihoon smiled and the tightness around Miyoung’s heart loosened.
“Sooo.” Jihoon stretched out the word. “Does that mean you’ve missed me?” Before Somin could avoid him, he grabbed her in a headlock.
“Ya!” she yelled.
He refused to release her. “Admit you missed me.”
Somin punched Jihoon’s back with a wide swing of her fists.
He let her go with a grunt of pain. “Ow, that hurt!”
“That’s the point,” Somin said, still hitting him.
As Miyoung watched, a pressure built in her, like the bubbling of a carbonated beverage with the lid closed tight. And she’d been shaken and shaken. Days of bullying. Weeks of imbalance. Now she was faced with the surreal sight of Somin and Jihoon slappingat each other like kids. Because, Miyoung realized, that was what they were, kids free to be as ridiculous as they pleased.
The pressure pushed its way out, bursting forth in a snort of laughter. Everyone stopped at the sound, but no one was more shocked than Miyoung herself.
“Are you laughing at my pain?” Jihoon asked.
“I find the sight of you getting beat up very amusing,” Mi-young said between hiccups of laughter.
“He’s not getting beat up by just anyone,” Somin countered, suddenly defending her friend.