☆ Fifteen Star

_______________________________________

A few weeks after that kiss, Woohyun told me he wanted to go that party that his friend from our neighbouring class was going to throw on Saturday, which was all about getting wasted just before the nightmare called entrance exams showed up. I clearly told him that I did not understand the meaning or purpose of such parties, and he almost mentioned Sungjong and that one time I had been spotted at a “party” - which was more like a karaoke night – but he didn't. Because he knew I wasn't going to like it, so he said nothing at all. Then I told him that he could go, that he had my permission, although I don't believe in having to get permissions between lovers, and he said, “But I want to show you off.”

I found his remark ridiculous because I couldn't find anything about me that he could show off to people or to his other friends, that there was nothing admirable about me. Then I told him that I wouldn't go, but he should, and I would prefer it if he didn't drink that much. I wanted to tell him that he shouldn't drink at all, but it was a school party, and at school parties people usually drink. Even those who actually refuse the idea of drinking will drink.

Saturday night arrived not later than expected, and I stayed at home to study for the exams while Woohyun went to his friend's place. Most of the times, when I rewarded myself with a 10-minutes breaks, I would think about him and his doings at that party, and I would imagine him going up to a girl, flirting with her, touching her, then making out with her, and I would start getting mad at me, then somehow sad, and then I would feel bad for thinking about him like that. I couldn't picture someone who would like the idea of their lover imagining them cheating at parties, but I couldn't help these thoughts from emerging either, so I tried thinking of Howon.

Which turned out to be a good idea because once I started thinking about him, I would forget everything else. Not quite literally. Not in the way you would forget the world when you are in love or when you have a heartbreak. More like when you get distracted by a fascination that, in my case, was called Lee Howon.

I once thought about visiting him – after we had broken up, that is – and I even checked the prices for a one-day trip from Daegu to Busan, and it surprisingly turned out to be only 40 minutes long by train. Which made me realise that we were only 40 minutes by train away from each other. Not far enough to make me miss him. And not close enough to make me long for him.

I was thinking of all these when someone knocked the door to my room, and I said, “Come in,” and my father pushed his head between the door and the door frame, and smiled sheepishly before walking in.

“Are you studying?” he asked matter-of-factly, his eyes fixed on the notes lying on my desk.

I nodded, and he sat down on my bed. I whirled around to meet his eyes, but he wasn't looking at me. My father was staring at the ground, his eyebrows knitted together, and when he sighed ever so softly, I knew something was wrong. He usually wouldn't just come to my room, sit down, and stare at the carpeted floor when nothing was wrong. But, in fact, things were already wrong the moment I had found out that my parents were fighting over that something that I still didn't know about.

Despite my father sometimes being a bit too strict, I would say I was more of a father's kid. I wouldn't be able to pinpoint the exact reason, but as far as I could remember, I had always liked my dad more. But liking a parent more wasn't equal to preferring a friend over another. It was different. I loved both my parents, even if we had our differences. And I would never save one person instead of the other; I would die with them, as ridiculous as it sounded. But if someone asked me in private, I would hesitantly say I love my dad more.

“Hey,” he began, not looking up from the floor. There was an edge to his voice when he asked me out of the blue, “Would you mind if your mom and I divorced?”

I said nothing at first, and tried to not let him notice my heart stopping for a second. I really wanted to be angry at him for playing with this idea, but I wasn't. I just said, “It's your decision. If you guys can't live with each other anymore, then divorce. I'm old enough to understand.”

He now looked at me, surprise flickering in his eyes. Then he smiled, and said, “It was just a random question. We aren't going to divorce. Don't worry.” He stood up, looked at the notes spread across my desk for one last time, and nodded. “Continue studying then, Anjell. I'm proud of you.” Then he kissed the top of my head, and walked out.

As soon as he left, I leaned back in my seat, my head lifted up to the room's ceiling. I didn't know what really was going on between my parents, and I had this vague notion that they were indeed going to separate in the near future, although my father had just told me that they wouldn't. Then I didn't really know what my reaction would be, and whether I should worry about that.

Out of the blue, my phone started vibrating, and I glanced at the screen, which displayed Woohyun's name. I picked up.

“Hey, Anjell.”

“Hey,” I said.

“What are you up to?”

“Studying for the exams.”

The people at his end of the line were roaring, yelling some nonsense that I couldn't manage to understand, and I was almost unable to hear his next remark. Through the thick layer of loud, drunken mumble, he said, “How exemplary.”

And I told him, “I can hardly hear you.”

“Oh, really?” And then there was this sound of him swapping his phone to his other hand, and some more shifting noises, and then the voices at his line eventually started growing distant, and when background silence accompanied our conversation, he said, “Do you hear me now?”

And I told him, “Yeah. Loud and clearly.”

“I'm in the bathroom.”

“No need to tell me.”

“But the bathroom is quiet. Do you hear this echo?”

“No, I don't.”

“You don't don't don't?”

“Stop playing around,” I said, although I couldn't help but laugh at his attempt at an echo.

Then there was a short pause before he called out almost quizzically, “Anjell,” and after my hum of a response, he said, “Let's do something after the exams are over. Go out and play. A theme park or something.”

“Sounds good,” I commented, which was the truth.

“Then we'll eat some dinner, and I'll pay, and I won't let you protest, and when night falls, we'll look at the stars. Does this sound inviting?”

“Yeah, it does.”

I could almost hear a smile spreading across his face. “And then we'll kiss. Under the starry sky. And I'll confess that I like you, and I'll patiently hope that you will say it back.”

“Stop playing around,” I said, this time with slight honesty in my voice.

He laughed, and retorted, “But really now. I want us to do something after we've finished the exams. Are you up for it?”

“Yes,” I said.

“I'll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Anjell?”

“Yeah?”

I was hoping he wouldn't say it because I didn't think I would be able to say it back. At least not wholeheartedly. So the silence made me really nervous and panic a little, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would sound like if I said those words back without being really honest, until he casually said, “Bye.”

And I silently thanked the stars for preventing more heartbreak between us, and casually said, “Bye,” back.

Only it wasn't really Bye because in the middle of the night, when I was almost asleep, he called me again. I immediately picked up, thinking something might be wrong.

“Woohyun?” I asked, tiredly.

And I received a: “WAZZZUPPP!”

When I rubbed my eyes, and tried squinting at the clock on the wall to see what time it was, I asked again, “Woohyun?” Because the voice didn't sound like him at all.

“HEY WOOHYUN'S GURRRLFRIEND!”

“Who are you?” I was utterly confused.

“HOW ARE YOU? I'M FINE. BUT HOW ARE YOU? HEY HEY DO YOU LIKE MY HAIR?”

Slowly growing annoyed by the shrill voice of that person, I gave up trying to make sense of the conversation, and was about to hang up, when I heard Woohyun at the background say, “Hey Sungyeol, what the hell are you doing with my phone? Who are you calling? Hey, give it back.”

Then Sungyeol said, “But I wanna talk to your gurlfriend, Woohyun.”

“Shut up, and give me back my phone.”

I waited a few seconds, and adjusted my eyes to the darkness. I looked back at the clock – it was 1:56am.

“Anjell?” I recognised that voice.

“Hey.”

“I'm sorry. Did Sungyeol wake you up?”

I laughed a little. “Yeah, he did.”

“I'm going to murder him, don't you worry,” said Woohyun, almost too sincere. “He won't be able to see daylight after this.” Then, as if had to make sure I was still awake and there, he called my name again. “Anjell?”

And I responded with, “Hm?”

Then he said, “Your sleepy voice is kinda y.”

And I said, “Uh-huh,” hoping the simple act of clearing my throat would prevent him from catching the embarrassment in my voice. Then we said nothing for a while, like nothing had to be said after that comment, and it was so quiet, without all that drunken gibberish, that I asked him, “Are you in that bathroom again?”

He laughed, and responded, “Yeah, I am.” And after a pause, he added, “Oh, by the way, I just looked up places for our date and found a planetarium inside Daegu's National Science Museum. And it's free until the 22nd November. So when we're done with the exams, we can still go.”

“And you just looked it up? While you're still at the party?”

“Yes, I did.”

I smiled. Nam Woohyun, who was at his friend's party, who could have had fun with pretty girls, had decided to plan our date instead. My heart started beating crazily in the same way when I was running, and the greatest feeling of satisfaction surged through me, and I suddenly wanted him to come over, and I wanted to hug him and tell him that I was glad he liked me, although the same words wouldn't escape my lips. But when he suddenly asked, “Can I come over tomorrow?” I couldn't say, “Yes.” Because the simple idea of him was prettier than the actual person.

I explained, “My parents, they... How should I phrase this...”

“You haven't told them about us yet?” he finished.

“No, not yet.”

There was a pause, and I was starting to believe he was angry at me, because I would be angry at me, too, until he casually said, “You should tell them.”

And I said, “I will.” But that will could not be in the near future.

☆

We decided to meet at a café instead because I, for once, couldn't last-minutely tell my parents about Woohyun and me, since it would involve endless questions of why's and when's and how's, all of which I couldn't answer either, and because he refused to come in terms with the idea of not meeting me and waiting for school on Monday, which was only one night away. So, at his wish, we met at a café in the core of the city.

The walls inside the café were mostly lined up with bookshelves, and it almost looked like you were entering a library at first until you saw the blackboard above the counter, its frame painted in the same colour as the pinkish-grey wood of the shelves and the tables. The soft chairs, that only reached up to my waist, were either in a soft rose or white. A washed-out brown covered the parquet and the ceiling, also an eighteenth of the walls. Along the windows, you could sit on wooden stools that had that same pinkish-grey colour, and you would sit facing the people passing by. Woohyun and I were occupying the table near the counter next to a book called 1Q84.

“So I checked with the uni in Seoul. That one that offers astronomy and I think I can manage the CSAT scores to get in. When I just work harder and play less,” said Woohyun, his hands cupped around the mug.

“You're good at physics anyway. Your only problem is English.”

“I know. But you are someone who understands the fascinations around the English language, all the exceptions and rules, so you can teach me.”

“We only have a few weeks.”

“Don't be pessimistic, Anjell.” He smiled with his eyes.

“And you need to fix your math. Myungsoo should tutor you.”

“I don't like being tutored by guys. That's not fun.”

I gave him a look. “What did you say about the 'play less' part again?”

“Okay, okay,” responded Woohyun, throwing his hands up, “I will ask him to teach me.”

He lightly sipped his espresso, and I started looking around the café, with the frappucino in my hands. My back was facing against the entrance, and every time the doors opened, I would feel a cold wind tickle the nape of my neck. Woohyun's eyes were slightly fixed at something behind my back, but the question of what it was never occurred to me. Then someone walked past our table towards the counter, and I figured he had been looking at this person with that long, brown hair and those beautiful legs and that peach scent and those elegant fingers and that – I stopped. My eyes doubled in size. I checked again. I looked at the back of the head, at the clothes, at the shoes. My heartbeat rose.

Woohyun was saying something to me, but I barely listened, and just kept on staring at that girl's slender back. She slightly turned her head to the side, tucking her hair behind her ear, and when I was able to catch a small glimpse of her face, I calmed down. It wasn't Hyomin. Thank God, it wasn't Hyomin.

“So I have been talking too much. I want you to talk. Tell me something, Anjell. I want to hear all your stories.”

I made efforts to prevent him from noticing my slightly bizarre behaviour, and said, “I don't have anything to tell,” which was the truth, partly because I preferred listening to him instead, and partly because I really had nothing to say. My life wasn't spectacular.

“Then tell me about your first friend. I mean, not me. I mean, your primary school friends.”

“Sungjong?”

There was an emotion flickering in his eyes that I couldn't pinpoint. “Yeah, him, too.”

“Well,” I said, looking at the blackboard behind him, “primary school was fun. Probably the best time of my life. There isn't much to say about it, though. You need to ask concrete questions, Woohyun.”

He seemed to be thinking about it, then, as if he finally knew what kind of question to ask me, said, “Tell me about the best memory from your primary days.”

It was a pretty easy question, besides the fact that its answer included the mention of Hyomin, someone I wasn't too keen on talking about, so I tried to respond without lying by being vague about things. He didn't seem to mind, or maybe he didn't notice, because he was looking at me, the whole time I was telling him my best memory of primary school, with those curious eyes, and I couldn't help but like him a bit more for being the kind of person I wanted him to be.

“I had just recently met Sungjong and some other friends with whom we somehow made a group in our class. You know that group of people who always hang out together and you barely see them separated?”

“Like you, me and the others?”

I nodded. “Yeah. But back then, we felt cooler for being in a group. People who were included were cool, and the others weren't.”

“So Anjell used to be a bully,” he remarked, amused.

“No, I wasn't.”

“Okay, sorry. Continue.”

“Anyways, we weren't bullies,” I explained. “We just didn't hang out with the others, and to some extent, it made us look superficial and arrogant and maybe conceited.”

“You were young.”

“Yeah. We were young,” I repeated, looking at my frappucino. Then, after a pause, I decided to go on. “So we used to be a group, and we used to hang out a lot. And we used to love that playground near our primary school, and we used to go there when others went home. And around that time, a friend started liking our senior, and that senior would always hang around the skateboard park, and we would always sit on that half pipe so that friend could admire him secretly.

“He was sick one day. That senior. Or maybe he got a girlfriend. Either ways, he was absent, and we were still sitting on that half pipe, hoping he would show up, and after a while, we got bored, and no one had the desire anymore to wait for him, and we were about to leave when two men appeared and told us to get off from the half pipe because they were going to take it down to build a new one. And we got off, but stayed to watch them. And you know how a half pipe is constructed, right?” I asked. “There is this platform where you usually begin to skate and then you have the actual half pipe, and when you manage the curve, you meet the other platform.” He nodded. “Okay, and then that one friend who liked our senior said that she wanted to keep that platform because our senior had signed it, and she asked one of the men to break the platform into pieces so she could actually keep his sign in her pocket. And they really did because they seemed amused by her, I guess. Because they were once young, too. And then we went home, and on our way, we drank milk, like children usually do, and that was the best memory from my primary school.”

Woohyun didn't say anything, but just smiled the whole time. I stared at his dimple, the way it dented into his skin, and at his lips, the way they stretched across his cheeks, and for a moment, I really believed I could say it to him. That I could say I like you back, and that I wouldn't hesitate to say it. Because, in some ways, I really did like him. I liked Woohyun. Just not as much as he probably liked me, and confessing my feelings while he was already a step ahead seemed like a betrayal. Like a lie. So I didn't say it.

“You're really something,” remarked Woohyun, breaking the silence. “Your story tells us more about that friend of yours than it tells us about you.”

“You wanted to know about my best memory. That was my answer.”

“I know.” He smiled again. “Now I only need to work on my interpretation skills, then I'll be able to understand you better.”

☆

The week of our entrance exam harmed our relationship no more than it did between our other friends. During that whole time – from the days of preparations to the actual exam day - Woohyun and I didn't talk much. We would occasionally speak on the phone, or smile at each other in the hallways, or he would sneak a kiss on me, or I would tell him about my day at his demand, or we would hold hands, but most of the times, we were focused on studying. In fact, not even Sungyeol talked that much about his life, and was mostly found in the library with Eunji and Myungsoo.

I met Sungjong once during that time. We studied at a café because I had refused to meet up at his high school, which was also attended by Hyomin, and I just couldn't afford to see her. But instead of studying, he actually told me about that girl that he liked, and how the progress was, and according to him, they were going to start dating this winter, and I was happy for him.

The students in our year all started sending their applications to the university of their choice. Then we had our exam, and it was difficult, but somehow manageable. When we survived that nightmare, Sungjong texted me, and said that someone from a neighbouring high school had committed suicide. I told Woohyun about it, and he said, “Well, people who kill themselves are selfish.” But I couldn't agree with him, for no one should judge people by the way they die, or say they are selfish when, in their eyes, there really was no other way around it anymore. We didn't stay mad at each other for long, though, especially since Woohyun hadn't even be angry at me, and he had apologised for stating something so blunt. A few days later, we prepared ourselves for our date at the planetarium.

☆