Page 33 of XOXO

I walk away with my face dripping water, the girls’ laughter trailing behind me.

I feel an odd sort of disconnect with my mind. My wholebody is shaking, hot with frustration and fury. And all I want to do is lash out, but what would I even say? I’m not fluent enough to curse someone out in Korean, which is what Iwantto do. And they wouldn’t understand me if I did it in English. They’d just laugh more, and I’d feel like an even bigger loser.

And it sucks because usually I’m pretty good at defending myself when the rare occasion presents itself for a good put-down. My mom, an immigrant with an accent, knew the power of language, which to her was like a weapon to use against people who claimed she didn’t belong. That’s why she became a lawyer.

And now the weapon of language is being used against me, but in a different country.

“I’m soooo gross,” Angela says, walking toward me, her pigtails drooping, “and now we have to go to lunch.” She frowns when she catches sight of my face. “Are you okay?”

I nod, refusing to let Jina and her friend ruin my day. “I’m fine. Iamstarving though.”

“Me too,” Angela says. “Let’s head over before the lines get too long.”

The cafeteria is located next to the student center, across from the dorms. Even though we arrive five minutes before lunch officially starts, there’s already a line forming outside the cafeteria window. A menu on the monitor above the station shows the different meal set options to choose from: bulgogi patty set, grilled mackerel set, and braised tofu set, all of which come with banchan and whatever the soup of the day is. Today’ssoup is sigeumchi-guk, spinach boiled in an oyster soup base.

As students order and retrieve their trays, the long tables in the cafeteria begin to fill. People also arrive from the student center, where a walkway connects to the cafeteria, bringing with them food purchased at the snack bar and convenience store.

At one point Angela stops an Indian girl who’s passing by and introduces her as Anushya, her roommate. She’s British Indian and from Bristol. We chat a bit in English about moving to Seoul—she’s been here for two years—and then a boy from a table nearby calls her away. Though SAA isn’t an international school, I was surprised to find out from the website that there’s a good amount of international students, maybe one-fifth of the student body.

After we retrieve our trays—I choose the bulgogi patty set, Angela the mackerel set—we search for Gi Taek among the chaos of students.

“I see him!” Angela says, holding her tray with one hand and pointing across the cafeteria to where Gi Taek sits alone at one of the long tables, watching a video on his phone. We hurry over and join him.

He pauses the video, which a quick glance shows to be one on choreography. “How’s your first day of school?” he asks. “I see you both came from PE.” Unlike Angela and I in our sweats, he’s still wearing his uniform from the assembly.

“Great!” Angela says, taking the seat across from him. “I had homeroom with you and then math.” She makes a face.

“Study hall for me,” I say sitting to his right. “I’m taking classes through my school in the States.”

“Well, I had English and Korean back-to-back,” Gi Taek says. “My brain is fried.”

I pick up a piece of acorn jelly with my chopsticks, plopping it into my mouth. “So, what happens after lunch?” I know how it works at LACHSA, but I’m curious if it’s different here.

“We switch from academics to the arts,” Gi Taek says. “You’re a cellist, so you’ll go to orchestra. I’m a dance major, so I’ll head over to the performing arts studio, and you...” He points at Angela. “You go to the studio at Neptune, right?”

She nods, though she seems preoccupied, a frown on her face.

“Trainees who already have contracts with management labels get their arts credits from their companies,” he explains to me.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Angela blurts out, and I notice that Gi Taek doesn’t have lunch.

He shrugs. “I’m on a diet.”

“But you shouldn’t skip meals...” Angela says.

“Mind if I join you?” Nathaniel pulls out the chair across from me, dropping his tray on the table.

I’d think the wide-eyed expressions on Gi Taek’s and Angela’s faces comical if I probably didn’t have a similar one on my face.

It’s not his appearance that surprises me so much as to why he seems to keep seeking me out. A glimpse around at the othertables shows a few students taking notice. Does he just not care about his reputation, like Jaewoo does? Maybe having already had a scandal, he doesn’t have much to lose.

When I turn my attention back to the table, I notice Gi Taek and Angela seem to be trying to communicate something to me with their minds.

“Nathaniel,” I say, “do you know Angela and Gi Taek?”

“Yeah.” He points at Gi Taek with his spoon. “Dancer, right?”

“Yes.” Gi Taek nods vigorously. Nathaniel then turns to Angela and lifts his hand. “I don’t know you, though. My name’s Nathaniel. Nice to meet you.” She takes the tip of his fingers between both her hands. After she drops them, he laughs, shakes his head, and returns to his food, which he eats with gusto.

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