nine;

I returned to the practice two days later, but instead of joining the others, I just sat on the grass at the left side of the field to watch them. Unlike Coach Han who only gave me a strange look before returning his attention back to the boys, Hoya came and sit next to me.

“You okay?” he asked.

“That’s all I’ve been hearing these days,” I mumbled under my breath.

Hoya did not catch that, fortunately. “What?” he asked again.

“I’m fine,” I told him. I didn’t think that he would actually buy that, but he just nodded and patted my back before heading off to the racetrack again.

Watching the vast cloudy sky, I was close to dozing off with my back leaned against the fresh green grass when I heard the final whistle signalling the end of the day’s practice. I continued to study them as they all went back to the bleachers to pack their belongings, wondering if I had looked exactly like them when I was one of them doing the same thing all these while. For a moment, I wondered if I had blended in among their faces or stood out on my own.

Lost in my own thoughts, the field was cleared out before I could realize it. I stared at empty racetrack and pictured myself running. I was the best runner of the school. I won races after races, awards after awards, but I was not able to run after the one thing I had wanted most.

I closed my eyes and felt a drop of water on my face. Then came another, and another, and soon I was drenched. Somehow, the raindrops felt good on my skin, as if they could wash every trouble away.

The rain stopped all of a sudden. My eyes shot open, and in front of me was the face a girl I’d been seeing these past few days. She sat squatted down beside me, holding an umbrella that shielded me from the freezing rain. Our eyes were locked together, and we stayed that way in silence for the longest one minute of my life.

“Were you asleep?” she asked nervously, breaking the stillness in air between us. “I―I just thought you’d be cold. I didn’t want you to catch a fever,” added her when I did not reply.

“Why do you care?” I questioned back, but it came out colder than I intended.

She looked at her shoes and played with the laces. “I―I’m sorry,” she stuttered. “I shouldn’t have bothered you,”

Bomi got up to leave, but I caught her wrist before she could. “No, wait. Sorry,” I said. She glanced at her wrist, and I quickly let it go. “I’m sorry for asking this, but can you stay here with me for a while?”

I thought she would refuse, but then she smiled gently and settled down on the wet grass with me. We sat there in silence, watching as the world pass by while enjoying each other’s company underneath the gloomy sky.

“Do you always stay back late?” I asked Bomi one day after she was done with her dance practice and I was done with mine. It was one of those rare days when her brother’s soccer practice was cancelled and he went home earlier, so I offered to walk her home.

“Not really, unless there’s a competition or a ritual,” she replied. “You?”

“Similar,” I said. “Except that we don’t have rituals,”

She chuckled softly.

It was still a mystery to me how we both became friends, since we never actually had a proper conversation other than her dropping by the field to watch me or me going to her practice room instead. Ever since that day when we sat quietly together by the racetrack, somehow we began to acknowledge each other whenever we ran into one another in school. From exchange smiles from a distance, it gradually turned into an invitation to our practice sessions.

Perhaps it was because I was always with Chorong, but being with Bomi felt fresh to me.

Her stomach grumbled out of the blue, which turned her face red in embarrassment. “Stupid tummy!” she muttered under her breath. I laughed even harder.

“You’re hungry?” I asked, although it was obvious. “Come have lunch at my house,”

“Your house?” Her eyes grew wide and she shook her head almost instantly. “No, thank you,”

“It’s not a problem. Besides my mom always cooks extra portions,” I convinced her, then added silently in my head, for that person.

The truth was, I was not sure if my mother still did that when I invited Bomi. As the two of us slowly drifted apart, Chorong too gradually stopped by for lunch. Instead, she would eat at Myungsoo’s mother’s diner near the market which was a five-minute walk from her house.

That day, however, when I arrived home with Bomi, both Chorong and Myungsoo were there at dining table. They greeted me with the same bright smiles that I had grown accustomed with from all those years spent together, as if nothing ever happened between us. “We missed your mom’s meals,” Chorong reasoned upon seeing my surprised look.

“I see you have a friend with you,” my mother said when she noticed Bomi standing awkwardly by the door behind me. “Aren’t you going to introduce her?”

I looked at Chorong who had stopped eating upon seeing Bomi with her chopsticks still dangling between her fingers. Myungsoo, meanwhile, just kept quiet like he always did and continued to stuff his face.

“This is Bomi,” I finally spoke. “She came to taste your cooking,”

“Good afternoon, I’m Yoon Bomi,” she introduced herself and bowed politely.

Chorong glared at me with a betrayed expression on her face. I could not understand why she would give me that look when I was the one who was betrayed. The stare continued, as though we were challenging each other. “Come on in, Bomi. Make yourself at home,” I told Bomi as I took her hand and brought her to the table, not keeping my eyes off Chorong.

Putting down her chopsticks, she broke off our eye contact and turned to face my mother who was placing a steaming cup of rice in front of her new guest. “I’m already full,” she said brusquely. “I’m sorry, ahjumma, but I just remembered that my dad’s coming home early today,”

“He is?” asked Myungsoo, his mouth still full.

“I’m going first,” she told Myungsoo and left without another word.

“Yah, Nam Woohyun,” Chorong called as soon as the bell rang and our teacher left the class. I was about to leave when she grabbed my shoulder. “Let’s talk,”

“What’s there to talk about?” I asked.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Acting like how?”

“Like distancing yourself from us. Like pushing us away. Like you don’t care about us anymore. Like…”

“Like?”

“Like spending time with Yoon Bomi,”

“Why can’t I spend time with her?”

“You’re doing this on purpose, right? You could’ve picked anyone, but you chose her because she’s Yoon Doojoon’s sister, right?”

“So you still like Yoon Doojoon,” I hypothesised.

“No, I don’t,” she denied.

“Then what’s the problem? She likes me,”

“But there are others who like you!”

“Like who?”

“That’s not the point,”

“Then how about you? Myungsoo likes you so you stayed with him even though there are others who like you as well. Why can’t I do the same?”

“Like who?” she snapped back, imitating me.

I stared into her cold yet pleading eyes. Her cheeks were flushing red from anger. For a second I almost didn’t recognize the girl who had been my best friend of ten years. I wondered how did we change so much without even realizing it. I let out a sigh and looked away. “Like me,” I whispered before leaving the classroom.