ten;

 

 

I invited Bomi for almost all our ‘traditions’, much to Chorong’s displeasure. A week after I invited her for lunch at my house, I brought her to the hill, a special place for me that held a lot of memories between Chorong and I.

 

“Why do you love this place?” asked Bomi when we both were lying on the grass watching the reddening sky in silence as the sun was going down.

 

I knew the answer right in my heart, but instead of telling her the actual truth, I just shrugged. “It’s pretty and quiet here,” I said simply, which was partly true.

 

She was satisfied with my answer. “It is beautiful,” she beamed. She then fished out her MP3 player from her bag and gave me one of the earplugs. She hit Play as I put it on, and we continued to enjoy each other’s quiet company.

 

I love that the most about being Bomi. She did not mind the silence and was never pressured to fill it with endless chatters unlike most girls I know.

 

Unlike Chorong, the only girl I know.

 

Songs after songs ended. A familiar tune later filled my ear, and the wound inside of me once again pricked. I closed my eyes and felt tears streaming out as I listened to the lyrics that I memorized by heart.

 

I’ll wrap my love around your pain
I’ll wipe your tears with these two hands of mine
My only love for you is never changing
Your sorrow is my sadness, let’s divide it between us.

 

 

 

After that sudden confession in our classroom, the gap between Chorong and I became even wider. If before it was only me avoiding her, now, it seemed like she started to hide from me and would find an excuse to not be in the same room as me apart from during classes, in which she couldn’t escape.

 

She began to spend more time alone. Initially, I suspected that she was spending time with Myungsoo, which would be natural, until one day he came to me asking whether I’d seen her. I rarely saw her around, actually, except once when I passed by the gym while heading to the field after school ended. She was there alone in her hapkido uniform, focusing all her energy on a kicking bag.

 

“Don’t worry too much,” I reassured Myungsoo. “It’s probably that time of the month. You know girls,”

 

He smiled weakly and I smiled back in return. But deep down, I, too, began to worry.

 

Later, I ditched practice to look for Chorong. I tried the gym in case she would be there again, but it was empty except for a couple of boys who seemed to be on a one-on-one basketball game. Then, I went to the cafeteria where sometimes she would hang out with Myungsoo at while waiting for me to finish my practice. Again, there was no sign of her.

 

Just when I thought of giving up and was on my way to the field, I saw her with Myungsoo, walking towards the school gate hand in hand. Her bright smile was plastered on her face, and I cursed myself for even bother worrying.

 

 

 

“You seriously gonna keep up with this?” asked Hoya as he took a seat beside me on the bleachers.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Switching seats with me in class. Spending more time on field even though it’s not really that necessary. Running like you’ve lost your mind few times,” he listed out. “And now Yoon Bomi,”

 

“What’s wrong with Bomi?”

 

“I know you, Woohyun. You and Chorong were inseparable since we were kids, even after Myungsoo came along. You don’t just like Chorong. You love her,” he murmured. “Why involve Bomi in your love triangle?”

 

“Why do you care so much?” I scoffed. “Do you like her or something?”

 

He glared at me and gritted his teeth. “As a matter of fact, I do,”

 

My eyes widened and softened at the same time. “Hoya yah…”

 

He didn’t reply. I watched as he grabbed his bag and left, completely lost for words.

 

 

 

I stood in front of the long mirror in my room for minutes long, observing my own reflection. It was Bomi’s dance ritual performance that evening at the school’s auditorium, and I was invited to come. Since I never ever attended a dance ritual before, I wasn’t sure what I should be wearing. I asked Bomi when she handed me the invitation card, but she just smiled. “Wear what you feel comfortable in,” she said.

 

To be honest, I feel most comfortable in my running attire, but there was no way I could wear that there. After seeking out my mother’s opinion, I settled with a grey checkered shirt, a black jacket and a matching slack. It looked casual but still formal enough, I thought.

 

Something on my study table caught my eyes. It was the music box that I’d received from Bomi. I kept it even before I started going out with her. For some reasons I couldn’t identify, the box gave a soothing effect. Next to it was the snow globe that Chorong gave me for my sixth birthday.

 

“Whose handsome son is this?” I heard my mother’s voice approaching me, interrupting my thoughts. I did not even realize when she entered the room.

 

“Appa’s,” I smirked playfully, and she punched me lightly on my right arm.

 

She rested her chin on my shoulder and studied my reflection in the mirror. “You look great,” she remarked with a smile.

 

“You say that because I’m your son,”

 

“True,” she chuckled. “But you do look good,”

 

“Thanks,”

 

She picked out an invisible dust from my hair and fixed it a little. Then, she turned me around so that I faced her. “Woohyun ah,” she began. “Bomi seems like a really nice girl,”

 

“She is,”

 

“She likes you,”

 

“I know,”

 

“Do you like her back?”

 

I gulped. “I do,” I replied. As a friend.

 

My mother gave me a tiny smile and patted my cheeks. “I know you’re a good boy, so don’t hurt her feelings,”

 

I looked into her eyes and felt a lump forming in my throat. “Umma,” I cried, remembering Hoya’s words. “I don’t think I’m a good friend.” Tears that I tried hard to fight back betrayed me and started to fall, and my mother quickly wiped them away. “What have I done?”

 

 

 

Before I met Chorong, I was a lonely child. Despite having my mother home and her spending almost all her time with me, I had always wanted someone to play with. Someone just about my age. Someone who would understand a kid’s endless imaginations. I was showered with so much love and gifts from my parents, but yet I still felt alone at times.

 

“Umma,” I said one day when my mother was feeding me lunch. “Can I want a younger brother?”

 

She was surprised, and forced out a small smile that seemed a little sad. “Sorry Woohyun ah, but that’s not possible,” she replied softly.

 

I didn’t know the truth back then. I only found out much later, that my mother could no longer conceive a baby after having me.

 

Upon learning that, I made a vow to myself that I would make up all the loss she had to face by being the son that she wished for. Besides doing my best both in studies and on field, I also tried my best to stay out of trouble so that I would not just make her proud, but she would never have to worry about me.

 

Even so, deep down, I still felt lonely and still yearned for a younger brother.

 

Which is why, although I disliked Myungsoo at first, I really cherished him. I rarely, almost never actually, referred him as my best friend. That was because I always thought of him as the younger brother whom I could not have.

 

And that was why, when Chorong ran to me with a look of terror on her face to deliver that news one afternoon while I was in the middle of training, I could feel my heart twanging with fear.

 

I was sitting with Hoya and some other boys, enjoying our short five-minute break for refreshments. They were lost in a conversation I didn’t understand while I was lost in my own thoughts.

 

That was when Chorong arrived covered in sweats, her cheeks flushing red. “Woohyun ah,” she called.

 

“What?” I asked in a voice that I forced to sound annoyed.

 

“Myungsoo,”

 

I knew too well what she meant, but still I maintained my ego and questioned further despite my already racing heart. “What’s with him?”

 

“Myungsoo, he collapsed,” she sobbed. “We were just―He wanted to go to the hill, so we went there. Halfway up, I thought he looked pale. I wanted to turn back, but he insisted. And then he just―”

 

Our eyes met, and for once we were no longer the estranged childhood best friends. I pulled her into my arms and let her tears soak my shirt as we both returned to being the five-year-old children who only had each other.