"Can you meet me tonight?" she greeted as soon as I answered the call. "I'm at the bus stop by the intersection near your house."

I glance at the time. "It's 1:54 in the morning." After more than a week of not talking to me, Jihyuk appeared out of nowhere and asks me to meet her almost two hours after midnight. "Come here instead."

"I can't." Jihyuk paused. "I'm sorry. Just...just go back to sleep—"

"No, I'll be there," I said, shuffling out of bed and bundling up. It was the middle of November and I could almost hear my own teeth chattering despite the heavy layers of clothing. The weather was getting too out of hand. It was as if someone could just fry an egg out of the sidewalk during the summer and make an ice skating rink over the river during winter. Either it was too cold or too hot. There was no in-between.

And so it struck me that maybe Jihyuk was trying to kill herself. She was sitting by the road in her jeans and shirt. There was something odd about the way she sat, like her spine was curving into fetal position, her back arched like a letter C. And Jihyuk stared at something far off the distance. I peeled my coat off and put it around her. "Were you planning on freezing to death?" I asked.

She looked up, looking shocked to see me. She stood up and pulled me into her arms. I stumbled back, losing balance with the newfound weight. And we were silent for a while. This warmth was comforting, entirely unlike the heat my sheets could provide. I kissed the top of her head. "I thought you were dead." And gently pushing her away by the shoulders to look at her, I held either side of her face while probing her cheeks with my thumb.

"If I was, you'd have to take care of Sunmi," she said, pulling me to the bench behind us. "She can be quite a headache sometimes."

I smiled at her, yet at the same time felt like something was off. Like the lights were on but nobody was home. I slid my hand towards her palm and brushed against something tender. "What happened?" I asked, inspecting the purple bruise on her forearm.

"Tripped and fell," she said, prying my hand away.

But I insisted, noticing more bruises travelling up to her shoulders. "What happened?" I asked, now searching her face for clues.

"I told you. I tripped and fell."

"Fell where? Down the stairs?" I asked, almost hysterically. "What about this?" I asked after seeing small wounds on the curve where her neck and shoulder met. My finger reached out to examine the wounds more closely and she hissed. They were still fresh. "Jihyuk, please tell me what happened."

She clung to my arm and rested her head on my shoulder. "Told you, tripped and fell. You worry too much."

"Jihyuk..." I sighed.

She ran a hand up and down my arm. "I missed you. Don't be angry." And it was difficult to remain angry when she was being like this. But then again, not quite so.

"You ignored me all week. I thought maybe you were furious after you left me the last time we went out. I waited outside your house for almost two hours that night, but you never did so much as open the door for me. I tried calling you but you never answer. Texting you was equally as hopeless. Don't you want to see my anymore?" I asked, finally bursting with the questions I've kept bottled up inside me. It had been more than seven days – eleven to be exact. I kept count, thinking maybe as the number increased, the loneliness would eventually subside. But the opposite happened.

"You went to our house?" she asked, surprised. I spoke an entire paragraph and she'd only listened to one small detail.

"I did."

"Don't go there anymore."

"Why not?"

She stilled. Was she hiding something from me? After an entire minute, she answered, "Sunmi...Sunmi was feeling a little homesick. She decided that we stay at our parents' for a little while."

"Fill me in, Jihyuk. Tell me what's happening. How am I supposed to know when you don't talk to me—"

She huddled closer, clinging to my arm. "I know, I know. I'm sorry," she said, sounding anguished. "Don't worry about me. I'm okay." And in the silence that followed, I debated as to whether or not she really was okay. We have found solace in the moment, the stillness and peace in everything external – because there was conflict internally – until she spoke, “How was work?”

Finally, I thought, she was thinking of me. Before I could speak, she added, “Cut anyone up lately?”

I laughed. How about you? Having fun serving food and not being able to eat them? I was about to blurt out, but caught myself. It would be stupid, not to mention careless, to have said them to her. “Lots of paperwork, mostly, and observing. I enjoyed writing illegible prescriptions, too.”

It was Jihyuk’s turn to laugh. “So it’s true then.”

“What is?”

“That beautiful people have bad handwriting.”

I clapped my hands at a sudden realization. Jihyuk and I exchanged the same knowing looks. “So that’s why…” I started.

“…Hyukjae has such beautiful penmanship,” we finished together. We both laughed, but then she stopped. “You’re the meanest friend ever,” she said.

“What? Didn’t you think of it too?” I asked, wiping fake tears. She grinned so widely that it looked like it hurt her cheeks but she looked so happy as she clung onto my arm that cold November morning. She kissed me, just the way I had wanted to do as soon as I saw her.

She pulled away for a moment, both of us breathing heavily. “Here I am leaving you clues. I am singing now while Rome burns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack, my silent night, just mash your lips against me. We are all going forward. None of us are going back.*” Jihyuk whispered against my lips before I pressed my mouth against hers.

 In our weekly meetings, she was slowly growing more distant — not as if I could easily read her mind before. While I was an audience to my own self conflict, Jihyuk had fallen asleep, and she looked at peace. I could forever relish the delight on her face whenever she sees me.

I stared out into the dark, empty streets and quivered because of the cold. I closed my eyes and rested my head against Jihyuk's. If she won't tell me the truth soon enough, I would have to discover it myself. Or maybe I wouldn't be able to bear it. When I woke up, my arms were empty. I had more questions than answers. It wasn’t the first time I had wished I understood Jihyuk.

***

*from Richard Siken’s Crush