Page 18 of The Secret Of Us

He smiles, giving me one last tap on my shoulder before he catches up with Mr. Reid, who’s collecting the discarded equipment.

I pick up my water bottle and make my way up the stairs and across the green to get to my room. I drop to the floor as soon as I’m safe behind the closed door, my back against it. I pull my knees up to my chest, folding my arms around them and dropping my head.

Only three days in and everything’s already falling apart.

After a few more moments of wallowing in self-pity and considering the pros and cons of running away, my stomach rumbles. I skipped lunch today, opting to hide for that hour instead of facing everyone, and it’s catching up to me.

I stand up, undressing and taking a shower before getting changed into joggers and a hoodie. I figure there’ll be too many people at dinner for anyone to take notice of me so it’ll be easy enough to quickly grab something and come back to my room.

I start on my way to the dining hall, using my phone as some sort of comfort blanket as I keep my eyes trained on it instead of my surroundings. I send a quick text to Mina to see if she’s eaten, and her reply comes a few seconds later, saying she’s just left the dining hall. I open up my messages with Ravi, giving him the update that he asked for but leaving out the part where I was tackled to the ground.

The dining hall is bustling when I enter, and I hurry over to join the short line. I decide to stock up on snacks while I’m here, grabbing a ton of granola bars so that I can eat them during lunch. I get two slices of pizza, stacking them on top of each other before wrapping them in napkins so I can take them out.

I manage to get lost among the crowd and no one says a word about me or to me. I leave the dining hall, my pockets stuffed and hands full as I hurry back to my room.

Safe behind closed doors, I relax, settling down to eat my dinner. I open up my laptop, pulling up a streaming site so I can pick a movie to watch while I eat. I end up choosing a low-grade horror movie that has a ridiculous plot but it’s fun to watch.

Once the movie is over and my stomach is full, I get ready for bed. I brush my teeth, wash my face with a long-winded skincare routine that my mother insists I carry out, and change into sleep shorts and a white T-shirt.

I’m scrolling mindlessly through my phone in bed, when it rings, a cheery song playing. As much as I want to ignore it, exhaustion from the day setting in, I can’t. The only person who calls me on that app is my Halabeoji.

I glance at the time to see that it’s only a little after nine. He’s up earlier than usual. I roll over to face the ceiling, sliding my finger on the screen to answer his call.

“Hi.” Just like Appa, my voice usually gets deeper when I speak Korean. However, when I speak to my Halabeoji it gets higher. He always said I had so muchaegyo—cuteness—when I was younger and I never outgrew it with him.

“Kkummie, how are you?” his voice grumbles through the phone, a softness to it.

The nickname sends a pang through my chest.Dream, he calls me. He said when I was born it was like all his dreams came true.

“I’m okay,” I tell him, my free hand clenching into the blanket I’ve tucked around me. “I played football today.”

“You study well, you play well. My grandson is so amazing,” he says, pride clear in his voice.

I already feel lighter just from these few seconds of talking to him. He never fails to make me feel good about myself even when I feel like giving up on everything. My hand relaxes, and I smooth the blanket down, resting my hand on my chest.

“Are you taking care of yourself?” I ask him.

Even though my parents make enough to support Eomma’s parents, he still insists on working. But he’s getting older, and I don’t like the idea of him being at a market all day when he could be resting at home instead.

“Of course. Don’t worry about me. How is your new school?”

I can’t lie to him so I twist the truth instead. I tell him the teachers are nice, the food is good, I like my room, all the small things that have made the past few days bearable. I almost mention Izzy but decide not to at the last minute. I’m not even sure why she popped into my mind.

He tells me about what he’s been up to, including the drama from the market of one person pricing their cabbages too low and how it’s affecting everyone else there. I listen intently, soaking up every word he says. Hearing his voice calms me. It makes me feel less alone in this place that is meant to be my home but doesn’t feel like it.

We talk for a while longer, shifting topics of conversation so much that I can’t remember how we even got on to some of them. I yawn and even though I try to cover it up, Halabeoji hears it.

“Sleep well, kkummie. I love you.”

I repeat the words back to him and we hang up. I throw my phone by my legs, turning to my side. I don’t know how the rest of the year is going to go, but I know Halabeoji will help me get through it.

7

IZZY

Goingto the gym on your period is a different kind of torture.

I don’t know who I thought I was, but after barely getting through some cardio and a leg workout, I decided I deserved to give up. The others didn’t join me this time, even for moral support, but I know I need to get back into a routine. It’s the second week of school and I’m hoping that staying consistent at the gym will somehow motivate me to start enjoying hockey again.

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