*****

“Just don’t bother with him. Be the bigger man. You’re only going to get yourself in trouble.”

Daesung frowned down at his bowl of rice congee as if it had wronged him.

“Jihun, since when are you this sensible? I want raw, concentrated hatred. I want ridiculous plots for vengeance. I want poisonous vitriol the likes of which we haven’t seen since the Japanese occupation.”   

“Whoa, Smiley!” Jihun said. “Looks like someone’s gone to the dark side.”

“I’m not used to receiving detention, especially since I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Done nothing wrong? You devoured a homoual love letter!”

Students chatting at nearby tables glanced over. Daesung flushed bright red, and his roommate clapped his hand over Minah’s mouth.  

“Why are your eyes as big as saucers?” was the only thing Daesung could think to retort.

“Call that a comeback, Smiley?” Jihun scoffed. “And would you please be careful, Bambi, we’re at a conversion camp where they have no sense of humor concerning gay jokes. Or any jokes, for that matter.”

Minah nodded. Jihun retracted his hand. He then reached into the package he had received from his parents, pulled out a Tupperware of cookies, and cracked it open.

“One for you,” he said to Minah, before turning to Daesung. “And two for you. For the rough time you’ve been having lately. Look, they’re your favorite! White chocolate macadamia.”

“Well, that’s a welcome coincidence.”

“I might have mentioned that to my mom on the phone. So tell me, what was in that note? Nothing obscene on your end, I presume?”

Daesung looked around at what Jihun often referred to as the “chow hall” for its unappetizing food and utilitarian design. No one seemed to be listening in, but you never could tell at Quiet Waters. Eunseo was staring over at their table from her seat by the side exit door. When she caught him looking, she resumed writing in her journal, lunch tray relatively untouched.

“Seunghyun said that Mr. Chun was ‘creepy as balls’,” he said quietly, fingers providing air quotes.

“So you didn’t say anything wrong?” Minah asked.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Nothing illicit? Nothing erted? Nothing ?”

“Aish, you sound almost disappointed! It doesn’t bode well for you—or any of us—that you know those words.”

“Cursing? Really? Even after getting detention?” Seunghyun asked.

“Where the hell did you come from?!”

“Careful,” Minah said. “This one is on a swearing spree. He’s changed. Detention hardens a man.”

“You know what else hardens a man–” Seunghyun started.

“Yah! You can’t say things like that here,” Jihun snapped irritably. “It’s dangerous.”

Minah widened her eyes at her friend, heavily penciled eyebrows disappearing under her fringe. She took a noisy, condemning sip from her juice box. Jihun poked regretfully at his soggy cabbage. Not for the first time did Daesung suspect they communicated nonverbally—and maybe even telepathically.

“Whoa, innuendo police in the house,” Seunghyun said.

“Sorry to say this, but he’s right,” said Daesung. “You’ve got to be more careful.”

“Didn’t know you cared.”

“I don’t. Why are you even here?”

“I wanted to talk to you."

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you. I got detention the last time we talked.”

“It wasn’t a proper conversation. It was Sharpie.”

“There’s nothing more to say.”

“Okay.”

Seunghyun turned towards the cafeteria line. Daesung nibbled at a cookie, his stomach feeling uneasy yet again for no apparent reason. Minah patted his hand sympathetically. That’s when he saw him.

It was a bit difficult for him not to see Seunghyun. First of all, he was the same size as a tree that grew in his backyard. This particular tree exploded in spectacular pink and white blossoms in the spring, but that was neither here nor there. Secondly, he wore a bright purple hoodie that Daesung assumed would become his trademark during his time at Quiet Waters. And thirdly, he was waving wildly to catch his attention. His other hand hovered over the fire alarm.

He bolted up from his seat and dashed over, narrowly avoiding knocking poor Junyoung’s lunch tray right out of his hands.

“What are you doing!” Daesung hissed.  

“Oh, nothing. Just waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me to what?”

“Come outside to talk with me. Privately.”

“I will do no such thing. I don’t go anywhere with strangers.”

“Words hurt, Daesungie. You wound me.”

He put his hand on his chest.

“Don’t call me that.”

Seunghyun’s hand crept closer to the fire alarm handle.

“I’m going to pull it unless you agree to go out with me.”

Daesung spun around, scanning desperately for teachers. He wasn’t sure if it would be better if there was a teacher ready to stop Seunghyun from yanking the lever, or if it would be worse because he’d probably get blamed for it.

“No! Okay, I’ll go out with you. No wait, I didn’t mean that! I’ll go outside with you.”

Seunghyun’s hands dropped to his sides. He smirked.

“Now, was that so difficult?”

For the second time that day, the new student had Daesung seeing red.

                                                                        *****

It was the first genuinely cold day of autumn.

So of course Daesung would be outside, held captive by someone he could only assume was a psychopath.

“You’re a psychopath!” he declared.

Which, granted, was probably not a smart thing to say to a psychopath, but come on. He was freezing!

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! Who else threatens to set off the fire alarm unless the other person comes with them! That is the dictionary definition of psycho!”

“I’m really not,” he said. “And I’m sorry. I mean it.”

He turned to him with the sincerest, prettiest, most apologetic eyes Daesung had ever seen.

“Yeah–you’re–you…” he sputtered, trailing off lamely. "Whatever."

A harsh breeze blew through, stirring crunchy, brown leaves into a circular dance on Quiet Waters’ main pathway, which connected the classrooms in the Park Building to the Kim Cafeteria. Daesung hunched his shoulders and wrapped himself in a hug. His thin gray cardigan was no match for this savage weather.

“All right, well, say your piece and make it quick,” Daesung said, teeth chattering. “Please.”    

He felt Seunghyun step behind him, blocking the wind. Then a heavier cloth dropped onto his head and shoulders. He looked down at the sleeves draped over his arms—Seunghyun’s purple hoodie.

He gulped, uncomfortable with how familiar the new student was behaving towards him, and uncomfortable with how he felt about it.

“Better?”

He could only nod.

“Like I said, I’m truly sorry. We got off on the wrong foot, but I’m not going to wuss out and ask for a redo. First impressions last a lifetime and all that. I just want to explain why I did everything that I did and hope that you try to see things from my perspective. Sound fair?”

Another nod.

“When I arrived, I was convinced that I would hate it here. And I do. I hate everything this place stands for. I never thought my parents would put me in here. That they would send me away instead of accepting me. They thought I was ed up and needed fixing. I thought all the residents would think like that, too. That they’d be brainwashed morons and we’d have nothing to talk about.                                                                                                                                 

“But you were different. You let me know I was being a pretentious in Group. You saved my pretentious in Art Therapy. I wanted to see if you would save it again in the cafeteria, so I tested you, and surprise surprise, you did. I kept wanting to talk to you in private, but each time I tried, I just made things worse. Maybe I did resort to psycho tactics, but here we are.”   

Seunghyun paused to take a deep breath. Daesung watched him closely, intrigued.

“It might seem crazy, but I have a feeling I was sent here for you. That you’re a type of…kindred spirit.”

The new student looked at him expectantly. Now it was his turn to talk.

“You’re right. That is crazy.”

Startled, Seunghyun tilted his head, like Daesung was a code he couldn’t quite hack.

“I’m sorry, but we really don’t know each other. And I am one of those ‘brainwashed morons’, so to speak, and I believe we have nothing to talk about if you don’t want to get better as well. Didn’t you sign the contract just this morning? Every new arrival has to. One of the clauses was that we shun those who don’t think there is anything wrong with them. It’ll make our own recoveries much quicker.”

Seunghyun’s eyes, oddly enough, looked damp. Daesung couldn’t understand it. Perhaps it was the biting cold causing them to tear up. The new boy abruptly mumbled something about needing to talk to a teacher and started stumbling in the direction of Park.

“What about your hoodie?” he called.

“Return it to me later.”

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Don’t you know? People as tall as me don’t feel the cold!”

Seunghyun cast him an eerie smile, similar to Mr. Chun’s in its lack of authenticity. Then he stalked away towards the classrooms, taking long strides, shoulders hunched.

“Psycho,” Daesung muttered, shaking his head.

                                                                        *****