Episode 13
Cursed be my mouth. No—math should be cursed. The root of all evil.
May you zip your pants and get your junk caught while leaving the bathroom!
Silently hurling insults, Junyoung came to a stop. The sky was dark with heavy clouds. She really didn’t want to go.
She hadn’t slept a wink, despite not even having anything decent to wear. She’d settled on the most presentable blouse and a knee-length cotton skirt she owned, but still felt like chucking it all out.
She’d debated dozens of times whether to use the money she’d been saving for workbooks to buy a new outfit at the market. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.
No matter what she wore, she’d look shabby anyway.
“Hope you wake up hungover and crack the back of your head on your bed frame.”
Not enough to die—just enough to suffer.
With an even more specific curse aimed at math, Junyoung sighed deeply and resumed walking.
Her mom, who’d apparently come home drunk again last night, was unusually quiet. That gave Junyoung a bit of space to think.
Why was I invited?
Maybe the woman thought she was being cheeky by bringing up the gym. Or maybe, like she said, she got curious after hearing about her from Seungwoon. After all, getting hit by a ball he threw might have made her feel responsible.
She’d just eat quietly and excuse herself with chores or studying. There was no need to be nervous.
“Junyoung.”
Startled out of her thoughts, Junyoung looked up at the sound of her name. Seungwoon was approaching with a bright smile.
His shirt was the exact shade of a clear sky, and his white pants practically sparkled. Junyoung fought the urge to turn and bolt, managing an awkward nod.
“Why are you here? The church is that way.”
“Ah, I saw you while I was waiting.”
Looking sheepish, he quickly walked ahead, chatting as they went.
“Are you hungry? Did you eat breakfast? Was it hard getting here? At least it didn’t rain.”
“Your mom…”
“Hm?”
“Does she usually like inviting people over?”
The sudden question made Seungwoon roll his eyes and mumble a vague answer.
“Uh… sometimes?”
So, no.
Ignoring the added weight of the situation, Junyoung clamped her mouth shut. Seungwoon gave her a soft smile.
“Still, you’re the first friend of mine she’s invited here, so she was pretty excited. She put a lot of thought into the food since she didn’t know what you’d like.”
“I don’t have any favorites. Or dislikes.”
People with the luxury to be picky are the only ones who bother. Bumjin and I eat instant noodles every day, so who cares.
Grumbling her reply, Junyoung finally sighed and furrowed her brow.
“I don’t even know why I’m going.”
“It’s probably because of me.”
His sheepish admission followed her muttering.
“My mom really cares about my grades and school life. She asked who the smartest person in class was, if anything special happened… so your name came up a lot. I think she got curious.”
He glanced at her, his eyes softening.
Just as I thought—an adult. The same woman who told the vice principal she only cared about the kids being healthy.
Competition—that word lodged itself in Junyoung’s mind. Her shoulders relaxed a little.
“She came because of the reflection paper, right? She seemed to know it had something to do with me.”
“She won’t ask you about it. I told her the problem was the math teacher being unfair. It wasn’t serious enough for reflection papers, but they still made you, me, and even Kwon Bumjin write them.”
“Well, Bumjin kind of deserved it. He did throw a basketball at the teacher.”
The mention of Bumjin made Junyoung smile faintly. She remembered his grumpy face blaming it on his sleep habits.
…What did he mean by that? That something scary is keeping him there?
Ugh, I can’t even ask. How do I even bring that up?
Lost in thought, she didn’t notice Seungwoon quietly watching her.
“Maybe we should’ve invited Bumjin too. We’re all tangled up in that reflection mess.”
“As if he’d come. He’d rather nap.”
Junyoung answered without thinking, then quickly added, “I mean, he’s always asleep. At school.”
The brief silence that followed felt oddly heavy, but she kept her gaze fixed near her feet, ignoring the warmth of his gaze on her cheek.
As they turned onto a sloped path, Seungwoon finally spoke again.
“It’s strange, isn’t it? I’ve never seen you two together, but sometimes it feels like you know each other well. Bumjin usually acts like no one exists, but he seems to jump into your business.”
Her heart sank. She hadn’t expected Seungwoon to say something like that.
No, no. That’s just a guess. Even if someone found out, it’s not like it’s a huge deal. I’ll just deny it.
“Maybe he’s a secret humanitarian. Or maybe he just hates the math teacher.”
She scowled, annoyed. The sky darkened further, and a humid breeze passed through.
“That day…”
She thought he’d let it go, but she was wrong. His voice stayed quiet.
“When you were passed out in the nurse’s office, I thanked you for the heater and the window, remember?”
“What, are you trying to take credit for that now?”
“That wasn’t me. I just sat next to you during break. I didn’t even know where the heater was.”
Junyoung stopped walking, staring at him. He slowly lifted his head.
When their eyes met, he gave a faint smile and asked:
“Who did you just think of?”
—
In some ways, it was lucky she was half out of it. Otherwise, she might’ve suffocated from inferiority.
Calling Seungwoon’s house “nice” didn’t cut it. It had originally been a three-story building, but they’d opened it up into two floors. The high ceilings and grand chandelier made it feel like a medieval castle.
Junyoung had expected maybe one housekeeper. Instead, half a dozen people moved about in matching black and white uniforms, clearly identifying their roles.
“Told you she has a taste for extravagance.”
Seungwoon mumbled as he led the way. A woman in a flowing blue dress stood like a statue in the living room and waved cheerfully.
“Welcome. Right on time.”
“Hello.”
Junyoung greeted her stiffly, eyes on the woman. Not a single hair was out of place. Her dress looked more like a gown, tightly fitted and embroidered with fine white lace that glistened in a way cheap fabric never could.
With a crimson smile, the woman gave Junyoung a swift once-over. It felt like a cold snake tongue licking her skin. Junyoung clenched her fists silently.
“You must be starving. Let’s sit. Director Kim.”
“Yes, ma’am. This way, please.”
A woman in a black suit and glasses approached. Junyoung followed her into the kitchen and had to consciously keep her jaw from dropping.
A long table that could seat at least a dozen was covered in food that looked straight out of a painting.
“Is anyone else coming today?”
“No. I just didn’t know what you’d like, so I made a bit of everything.”
“This is over the top, Mom.”
“It’s your first girlfriend I’ve invited home. Is this too much?”
“Mom!”
Flustered, Seungwoon glanced around. The woman calmly took her seat, and Junyoung pulled out a chair as well. It was smoothly carved and perfectly polished.
When Director Kim rang a bell, Junyoung looked over. The woman smiled with her eyes.
“The warm dishes aren’t out yet so they won’t get cold. Take your time and eat lots.”
“…Thank you for the food.”
She hadn’t planned to eat much anyway. She quietly nibbled on the easier foods, though many were unfamiliar. Some looked like she couldn’t even guess how to eat them.
“The teachers praise you a lot. Do you go to a private academy? Or get tutoring?”
“I study alone.”
“My, how impressive.”
“Mom, can we not talk about studying at the dinner table? That’s a surefire way to kill anyone’s appetite.”
“With a stomach that weak, how do you expect to survive senior year?”
Seungwoon rolled his eyes and pushed over a plate of unfamiliar shellfish.
“It’s good. Try it.”
“Why don’t you take care of me like that?”
Scoffing, the woman handed her plate over, and Seungwoon dramatically served her food.
“Here you are, Mother.”
What shocked Junyoung was his ease. He signaled someone behind her, accepted a plate, and dished it out with practiced grace. It was all too smooth.
“First time eating that?”
“No.”
The answer came out reflexively. The woman’s fork paused midair. Her smile said she already knew. Junyoung added quickly:
“I just don’t like it much.”
“Fair enough. Junyoung, do you have a particular school you’re aiming for? Same as Seungwoon?”
Anywhere with a scholarship and quick job prospects would be ideal.
“Wherever my grades allow.”
“No dream career yet?”
Just like before, the woman’s words felt like tiny saw blades. Scraping, unpleasant.
“You’ve got good grades, so medical school’s an option. Or maybe studying abroad. Even law school could work, after a relaxed undergrad.”
Was it just her imagination, or was she only naming the most expensive paths?
Junyoung put her chopsticks down and said:
“I’ll think about it, since my grades are decent.”
Their eyes met. The woman smiled like she’d been waiting.
She thought I’d lose.
To be continued…
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