Page 15 of XOXO

“I should ask my mom, shouldn’t I?” By now, she would have left the apartment for work.

“Maybe bring it up to her after you’ve done a little more research? For now, you can get the ball rolling. You’ll need a passport, if you haven’t one already.”

I do, in fact. Last year, I was supposed to travel to Paris withmy French class but had to cancel when I got the flu.

“You look overwhelmed.” Eunbi takes back the mug of tea, which I’ve barely touched. “Why don’t you sight-read Mozart, then we’ll call it a day. You’ve a lot to think about.”

That’s an understatement. But also—doI have more to think about?

My heart is racing. My palms are sweating.

If anyone were to ask me now:Do you want to go with your mom to Korea? Do you want to see the grandmother you’ve never met? Do you want to spend a season in Seoul, a city you’ve never been to, where both sides of your family originally immigrated from, with endless possibilities for new adventures and experiences?

The answer would be a resoundingyes.

All morning I’ve been googling things about Korea, and Seoul specifically. Apparently it has a population of almost ten million people, which is more than New York City.

When I look up my grandmother’s address, I find out she lives in the Jongno District of Seoul, where a lot of historical sites are located, like Gyeongbokgung Palace and Bukchon Hanok Village. She also lives right around the block from a Paris Baguette. I’m exploring the area through satellite imaging when Eunbi texts me a link. I click on it and the website for Seoul Arts Academy pops up on my computer.

The campus is absolutely breathtaking, with state-of-the-art facilities, practice rooms, a two-story library, and dormitories across from a newly renovated student center, plus a world-renowned concert hall.

After an hour of browsing I doze off, only to be woken up by my alarm. I set it this morning when I calculated that a fourteen-hour flight would arrive at around three p.m. my time. Which means it’s around eight a.m. in Seoul.

I open up the chat with Jaewoo and type.Did you arrive safely?When the message isn’t marked “read,” I assume either I miscalculated the arrival time or he doesn’t have service for some reason.

“Jenny?” The front door shuts with a bang in the hall. “I’m home.”

I drop my phone on the bed and follow my mom from the hall to the kitchen.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t immediately reject the idea of my tagging along with her on her trip to Seoul.

“There are dorms at the school. I can stay there during the week and visit you and Halmeoni on the weekends.”

“What about tuition?” She’s asking logical questions. This is a good sign.

“Waived, if I can get a scholarship, and Eunbi says I have a good chance as a classical cellist.”

She sighs. “You’ve really worked this all out, haven’t you?”

“I don’t see why I have to stay if I’ll get as strong an education there as I do here. Maybe even stronger. ItisAsia.” I laugh and she shakes her head.And I’ll be with you. This last thought I don’t say aloud. My mother was never the lovey-dovey parent.

I say instead, “I want to see Halmeoni.”

Mom doesn’t speak for a whole minute, but then she nods, “She’ll want to see you too.”

I can’t believe that within twenty-four hours, my life has changed so drastically. I’m going to live in Seoul forfive months.

Back in my room, I check my phone. The text is now marked “read” but there’s no response.

This is why I don’t like read receipts. It’s like psychological warfare. HeknowsI know that he read my message andchosenot to respond.

Of course, maybe I’m just reading too much into it. He could be texting back someone more important than me, like his mom.

Don’t tell me you were stopped at customs due to gang-related activity.I quickly type, then send, and immediately regret it. This is why people think before they act! That’s not even a good joke!

The message goes from “sent” to “read.”

I stare at my phone. A minute passes. Then another. I feel a strange sinking in my stomach.

---