“Okay, so this debit card is loaded with 500 U.S. Dollars. It’s from me, Hyejung and the ‘rents. It’s up to you how to use it. Spend it or save it, that’s all on you,” Hoon said as he handed me the black card.

            I shrieked.

            “This is the most awesome thirteenth birthday gift. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!” I said as I hugged him.

            I can finally buy those Red Nike Dunks I’ve been eyeing!

            Today is so awesome!

            I grabbed my bag and headed to the door.

            “Enjoy,” I heard Hoon sing.

            Of course I’ll enjoy a shopping spree, what teenager wouldn’t?

            I walked down the street to the beat of ‘Walking on Sunshine’. Nothing is going to ruin this day.

            My happy soundtrack was interrupted when I almost bumped into a boy who seemingly came out of nowhere and landed at my feet.

            I looked to my right and saw the door open with a man shouting, “Useless, worthless bastard!”

            I looked back to the boy.

            He couldn’t be any older than me.

            He wiped away the blood from his lip, “You’d think he’d know better than to say I was a bastard since he’s the one who fathered me.”

            “That’s your dad?” I asked automatically.

            He can’t be serious, can he?

            His eyes snap to me as he stood up and dusted his jeans, “, you weren’t supposed to hear that.”

            “Are you okay?” I asked, seeing the gashes on his arms and cheeks.

            “Believe me, today was a good day,” he said with a ghost of a smile.

            “I’m Himchan,” he introduced himself like he wasn’t just thrown out of a house.

            “Eunji,” I replied automatically.

            He smiled at me, “I know.”

            What?

            “Huh?” Apparently my ability to form words escaped me.

            “I’ve seen you in school,” he explained.

            We can’t be classmates, can we? I’ve had the same classmates since I was in Pre-K.

            “What grade are you in?” I asked.

            “Seventh, same as you. I just transferred,” he explained as he started walking.

            I followed him, but silence apparently followed me.

            “So that dude was really your dad?” I asked again, trying to break the silence.

            “Yup,” he answered.

            “And you’re sure you’re okay?” I asked him.

            He stopped walking and turned to me, “I’m sure. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head over someone like me.”

            Someone like him? Please don’t tell me he actually believes what his dad was shouting.

            He looked like he was used to this kind of thing, which means this was far from the first time.

            Suddenly, I felt anger burning inside me. How could his dad treat him that way? How could anyone treat another person like that?

            “Does your mom know?” I asked quietly.

            “Doubt it. She probably thought I wasn’t worth her time, that’s why she left me with my dad after she had me,” Himchan said casually as he continued walking.

            I felt like I wanted—no, needed—to comfort him.

            “You know you’re not, right?” I said.

            “Now what?” He glanced at me.

            “You’re not useless, or worthless or a bastard.”

            He glanced at his watch and then nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

            He said it so unconvincingly that I knew he wanted me to know he was lying. I wonder how many times he wanted to be caught in this lie.

            I saw a pharmacy up ahead and felt for my new debit card, “Come on.”

            I grabbed his hand and dragged him with me.

            I bought some rubbing alcohol, antiseptic solution, gauze and band-aids. I’ve seen Hoon fall of from his skateboard so many times I learned how to treat scrapes.

            There was a bench outside, so I settled myself there.

            I looked up to see Himchan still standing in front of me, giving me a skeptical look.

            “Sit down, I’m gonna clean your cuts,” I explained.

            “I can see that. But why? I don’t have money to pay you back for the stuff,” his expression was dark.

            “Don’t worry about it. It’s on my bro. He was being a prick, so I borrowed his card,” I lied, adding a wicked grin for effect.

            Somehow I knew that if I told him that the card was actually mine, he’d refuse my help. He’d think I was treating him as a charity case.

            He sat down beside me with a doubtful expression.

            It’s like he can’t believe that I actually want to help him.

            “And it’s because I can, I want to and I care,” I explained.

            His expression softened, like my words struck home for him, and I imagine it would since those are the words a child should always hear from his parents; and I doubt he ever heard those words from his ‘dad’.

            I wondered why he would tolerate living with that man. Hadn’t the neighbors heard the obscenities coming out from his dad’s mouth? Why hadn’t anyone done anything? They just let a kid fend for himself.

            I shake the bad thoughts away and grabbed the rubbing alcohol.

            Himchan’s face immediately paled.

            I laughed, “Relax, it’s for me. I need to disinfect my hands before cleaning your cuts. Don’t want them to get infected.”

            As soon as my hands were clean, I opened a packet of gauze and poured some antiseptic solution on it.

            “This is going to sting a bit,” I warned him as I started dabbing the cuts on his hands and elbows.

            I opened a fresh packet of gauze and repeated the steps this time leaning closer to clean the cuts on his face.

            “Sorry,” I repeated over and over as I cleaned his cut lip, and the scrapes on his cheeks and forehead.

            He winced as soon as the gauze made contact with his lip.

            When I pulled back, his eyes were still closed, but I noticed the tears streaking down his face.

            He’s been crying so silently, that if I wasn’t close enough I would’ve missed it.

            I wonder how many nights he did this with no one comforting him.

            Before I even processed what I was doing, I reached out my hand to him and squeezed his hand.

            I don’t know what he’s been through, and I can’t even imagine even if I wanted to, but at this moment, I do know that I never want to see him cry again, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep it from happening.

            After a few moments, he opened his eyes, He shifted his gaze away from me, but he made no move to disconnect our hands.

            I realized that he may be embarrassed. If there’s one thing boys don’t do, it’s cry in front of girls.

            I tried to close the antiseptic bottle with only one hand, my left hand—my weaker hand, but I kept fumbling the screw cap.

            Why the hell didn’t I buy the pop cap?

            I tried to pull my right hand free, but Himchan’s grip on my hand only tightened.

            Does he think I’m gonna leave?

            “Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” I said, even though he wouldn’t look at me.

            “I just need to close the bottle,” I explained, shaking the open bottle in his peripheral view.

            He turned to look at the bottle, but still wouldn’t meet my gaze. He grabbed the bottle cap and twisted it on.

            “Thank you,” I smiled at him.

            Once I put the medical stuff back into the plastic bag, I stood up.

            Himchan finally looked at me, panic in his eyes.

            I smiled at him, “Come on, I’m hungry”

            I pulled him to his feet, “My treat, well, actually my brother’s treat; but who cares about technicalities?”

            “Come on, I’m seriously hungry,” I whined as I started dragging him down the street.

            “Eunji,” he barely whispered.

            I stopped and looked back at him.

            “Thank you,” he said quietly.

            “No biggie,” I replied casually.

            I didn’t want him to think that he owed me anything.

            I started to walk again, but he pulled me back.

            “I’m serious, thank you. This might be, no, this is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” he said, now looking at me.

            “No ,” escaped my mouth.

            I clasped my left hand over my mouth. That was the first curse I’ve ever said out loud.

            I cleared my throat, “We have to eat seaweed soup then, and we need a cake!”

            He shook his head,” I don’t – I didn’t say it was my birthday so that you’d buy me stuff… Just… Just this is good.”

            I grinned at him, “Well tough luck, it’s my birthday too, and I say we need seaweed soup and cake.”

            His eyes grew wide, like mine did a while ago, “No .”

            We both started laughing.

            We found a restaurant that served seaweed soup, and I ordered a feast even though he protested. I just gave him a sharp look.

            We ate until we couldn’t anymore, talking about everything and nothing.

            “So what do you want for your birthday?” I asked him.

            He shrugged, “I don’t know, but it’s been a pretty great day so far.”

            I frowned at him, “Something I can buy you, and something you can keep.”

            “I’m good, really,” he smiled at me.

            “Come on. Everyone wants something for their birthday! If you don’t tell me right now, I’ll give you something really girly and force you to wear it to school every day,” I threatened.

            He just laughed at me.

            He can’t not want anything, it’s impossible!

            …I wanted those Red Nike Dunks for months, and I know I won’t be able to buy them now; but I don’t feel an ounce of remorse…

            After lunch, we just walked around.

            Our hands bumped a few times, and I’d see him flex his hand, hesitating.

            I almost rolled my eyes, but then I remembered why he was hesitant. He’s been told he was useless, worthless, and I can’t imagine what other lies by his dad.

            I took his hand and held it, not just to comfort him, but also to calm myself.

            I looked at him and smiled.

            I didn’t know what I should say, let alone if I should say anything.

            But when he matched my smile, I knew I did the right thing.

            We found ourselves in front of a batting cage, and I saw his expression change to excitement.

            “You play?” I asked.

            He nodded his head, and then shook it.

            I laughed, “Mixed signals, much?”

            “It’s been a while since I’ve played,” he confessed.

            “Great, then you can teach me,” I said as I approached the entrance booth.

            “I’d like to rent a cage for two hours,” I told the guy behind the glass.

            “250 dollars,” he said.

            I nodded and handed him my debit card.

            He swiped my card and handed it back to me before leading us to the farthest cage.

            As soon as we entered I immediately sat down in the corner.

            “I thought I was gonna teach you,” Himchan asked.

            I nodded, “You are. I need to see a demo first.”

            He put on the batter’s helmet and grabbed the bat.

            He swung a couple of times before hitting the button that the ball-throwing machine.

            He hit the first one and the speed reading was 95kph.

            I felt my mouth drop.

            The next 9 balls came, and the speed reading kept climbing. When he hit the tenth baseball, the speed reading reached 110kph.

            He turned to look at me, and I struggled for words.

            A cocky grin spread across his face and I felt myself blush.

            I took a deep breath and composed myself, “Holy . You play like a pro!”

            He shrugged, “It’s not that hard, come on, I’ll teach you.”

            I got up and threw on the other helmet and grabbed the bat from him.

            He showed me the right form.

            And once he was satisfied with my form, he pressed the button again.

            I swung and swung every time a ball flew towards me, but I always missed it by a mile.

            “I’m hopeless,” I droned.

            He just laughed at me.

            I narrowed my eyes at him, “Whatever. It’s not like I’m gonna be the pro-baseball player. I’ll just be your manager. And I’ll keep your first paycheck all for myself.”

            “And when was this decided,” Himchan asked me, with a smile on his face.

            “When I decided it was gonna be my birthday wish. You’re gonna be stuck with me for a long time,” I gave him my wicked smile.

            “Well that’s not really much of a threat,” he smiled at me, before pressing turning on the ball-throwing machine again.

            “You haven’t seen anything yet, boy,” I said in a low voice.

            He just smiled, but kept his focus on hitting the baseballs.

            “Time’s up,” a voice from outside the cage said.

            “Let’s go. We still need to buy your cake,” Himchan said, putting his helmet and bat back.

            I stuck my tongue out at him, “Our birthday cake,” I corrected him.

            I strode out of the cage, not looking back at him.

            What can I say? I love getting the last word in.

            I felt a tug on my hand, and finally looked back.

            Damn. His smile.

            I felt myself stumble, but Himchan caught me.

            “Sorry,” I squeaked.

            “It’s no problem. Let’s go get you—I mean, us—our birthday cake,” he said as he let go of the arm around my body, but kept our hands together.

            “Come on! I’ve got the best place for us to eat the cake,” he said excitedly.

            I felt myself smile because the way he’s acting right now makes the scene I saw this morning seem like another life.

            After much debating, we settled on buying a butter cream cake.

            Far from the Strawberry cake I was shouting at him to buy and the Chocolate cake he shouted at me to buy.

            We bought the cake and one pink and one blue candle, plus matches.

            The sun was starting to set, and I can’t believe the day I spent with him was already ending.

            Himchan led us to the park near the Han River.

            He picked a spot near a tall tree, “Welcome to my Sanctuary,” he said looking back at me.

            “It’s a pretty good spot,” I admit.

            “But I’m pretty sure the sun is setting behind us,” I continued.

            “No, it’s not, we’re facing west right now,” Himchan said, glancing at his watch.

            “Nope, I’m pretty sure we’re facing east, hence the name ‘East Village’ across the river,” I argued.

            “Well, I don’t want this day to end, that’s why I say I’m facing this way. You look wherever you want,” he said quietly.

            He still thinks I’m gonna leave him, which is pretty absurd since I practically spent all of my birthday money on him and pimped him out—I need my investment back. But I don’t tell him that joke, instead I just sit beside him—facing east.

            “It’s a pretty good spot,” I repeated and smiled at him.

            I took the cake out of the box, while Himchan prepared the candles.

            Once he lit the candles, I was already drawing in a breath.

            “Wait, let’s make a deal. Since we don’t have gifts for each other, let’s exchange wishes. By next year, we should’ve granted each other’s wishes,” he proposed quickly.

            I blew the air out of my mouth, away from the cake.

            “Deal,” I said and stuck my pinky out to him.

            He completed the pinky promise.

            “Here, write it down,” he said, shoving a pen and napkin (from the restaurant we ate lunch) at me.

            I wish…

            I wish…

            What the hell?

            Why can’t I think of anything?

            The red Nike Dunks suddenly didn’t mean anything to me anymore.

            Oh! I know!

            I scribbled my wish down quickly on the napkin and folded it.

            “Done?” He asked me.

            I nod.

            “So now we exchange?” I asked him excitedly.

            It was his turn to nod at me, but he was less excited. Uneasy, even.

            I snatched the napkin he was holding and dropped mind on his lap, and hauled my away.

            Once I knew I was a distance away from him. I turned around, expecting to see him running after his napkin, but he wasn’t. He was still sitting beside the cake with a blank expression.

            I unfolded his wish-napkin.

“Happy birthday. Saeng-il Chukahe.

I’ve never heard those words before,

And up until now, they didn’t mean anything to me.

Usually, today would just be a reminder that I’ve survived yet another year

With the ‘dude’ I call my dad.”

            I flipped to the next page of the napkin.

“But then you show up.

And suddenly today is not just a reminder I’ve survived,

But THE day I’ll always look forward to every year.

I don’t really know why you showed up today of all days.”

            I flipped another page of the napkin.

“But I really hope it’s not because you’re fulfilling the foolish

and desperate wish I made when I woke up today.

Because I was dumb enough to ask whoever is in charge of fulfilling birthday wishes

to give me a friend even if it’s just for ONE day.”

            I flipped to the final page.

“And I hope to God that since it’s still my birthday, I can change my wish.

Because now, I wish He’d let you stay.”

            I felt my stomach drop and my heart skyrocket.

            I walked back to him and see that the candles are almost gone.

            “Here, you can have your wish back. I don’t think you knew what you were actually wishing for,” he said with a blank expression.

            I ignore what he said, and looked straight at the cake and the almost-gone candles.

            “Keep it,” I say.

            “I want you to make sure it comes true,” I finished.

            And then I blew the candles out for the both of us.

            I smiled at him. The sunset gone, and the only light was provided by the nearest street lamp.

            He gave me another one of his smiles as I sat beside him.

            I see my napkin still on his lap, but this time unfolded. And I read my own handwriting.

“I wish Himchan’s wish comes true.”