I stretched my arms over my head and tried to work out the kinks in my neck. People were starting to get up out of their seats to chat with friends. We had just handed in our last test of the day, signaling the official end of midterm season. 

                Soojin walked over. “That wasn’t too bad.”

                “I’m just glad it’s over.”

                She chuckled.  Her eyes went to my wrist. “What’s that?”

                She pointed to the bracelet and I instinctively ran my thumb along it.

                “A good luck charm?” I replied vaguely, not really sure myself what exactly it was. 

                She seemed to piece the puzzle together and nudged me, her eyebrows waggling. “From a certain someone?”

                I smacked her in the arm.  “Don’t be dumb.  It doesn’t mean anything.”

                “You know what they say – when a guy gives you a bracelet, it’s a handcuff locking you to him.”

                I rolled my eyes.  “Nobody says that.  Or maybe you’ve been reading too many teen magazines.”

                She shrugged. “Hey, it’s not like you and I have any dating experience otherwise.”

                Does Seungcheol?

                I got a break from cram school, so Soojin and I were walking around town, window-shopping. After a while, we ended up wandering into the area where the dance studio was. I must have lingered too long or cast too many furtive glances in the direction of the building because finally Soojin nudged me.

                “Maybe you should check if he’s there.”

                I shook my head. “No, I shouldn’t bother him.”

                Soojin rolled her eyes and gave me a push towards the doors. “Just go say hi. He’d be devastated if he knew you were here and didn’t go see him.”

                I gave in, mainly because Soojin refused to budge if I didn’t listen to her. I cautiously stepped inside the building and poked my head into the practice room Seungcheol had led me to last time.  One of the boys recognized me and came over. 

                “Aren’t you Seungcheol’s girlfriend?” he asked.

                My skin prickled at the misunderstanding. “No, just a friend. Is he here?”  

                The boy knitted his eyebrows. “You didn’t know? He was feeling dizzy earlier and had to go to the hospital. It’s been happening a lot recently.”

                My eyes widened. “The hospital?” I echoed in disbelief. 

                “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

                I thanked the boy and went back outside to Soojin, feeling numb without realizing why.

                “Was he there?”

                “Apparently he’s in the hospital.”

                “What!” she exclaimed.  “How are you not panicking?”

Am I supposed to be panicking? I did feel a bit stunned, but I didn’t know what that meant.

“You have to go see him.”

                I frowned. “Why would I do that? I’m not his guardian or anything.”

                “He’s probably waiting for you. Are you really going to leave him hanging like that?”

                I hesitated and Soojin let out an exasperated groan. She walked to the side of the road and hailed a taxi.  She told the driver the destination and motioned for me to get in. 

                Resisting was useless. I climbed into the backseat.

                I felt so out of place walking into the hospital, my nose crinkling at the spell of antiseptic and rubber. 

                “Can I help you find someone?” asked the nurse at the desk.

                “Um, Choi Seungcheol? I was told he was admitted today.”

                The nurse typed something into the computer in front of her. “Ah, yes. He’s in room 215.”

                I thanked her and followed the signs. 212…213…214…215.

                I took a deep breath as I put my hand on the doorknob and slowly opened the door.

                He was lying on his side, his back to me. 

                “Mom?” he asked groggily, turning towards the entrance. Our eyes met. 

                His eyes widened and he sat up in bed. “Mimi.”

                “Someone at the studio told me you were here,” I began quietly.

                He laughed embarrassedly. “Was it Soonyoung? That kid loves to blab.”

                I didn’t reply. My eyes swept distractedly over the bleak hospital room instead.

                “How were your exams?”

                I was baffled by the sudden question. I looked desperately at him, dark circles under his eyes and an IV under his skin.

                “This isn’t the time to be talking about exams,” I said in a hushed and slightly quivering voice.

                How could I not have seen it? The days out from school, the pale skin, the tired sighs in his late night phone calls. The first words I thought of were, Why didn’t you tell me?

                But I stopped short of saying them aloud.  After all, I was hiding my circumstances at school from him too.

                “It’s not as bad as it looks. I’ll be up and around by tomorrow,” he told me with a reassuring grin.

                Annoyance bubbled up at me. “Don’t be stupid. Rest longer. You have to be healthy first before you can do anything.”

                He leaned back. “I get fidgety just sitting around like this. I don’t have time to be wasting.”

                Where did he get the strength, the endurance?  He’d told me countless times about how he’d been scolded at the studio. Yet he still went there every day, eager to do his best.

                I let out a breath. Suddenly, I felt like crying, and I had no idea why. What was I supposed to do in this situation?

                “Do…do you need anything?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level. “Water? A snack?”

                He studied me and then patted the side of his bed with a small smile. “Just stay with me for a bit.”

                I willed my leaden feet to move and then stood by his bedside awkwardly. Seungcheol closed his eyes.

                His palm was at his side, open and relaxed. After another moment of fretting, I reached out and uneasily grasped his hand. It looked more like I was trying to pick it up though, my palm not even touching his.

                He opened his eyes again and glanced down, slightly bewildered. I flinched and was about to snatch my hand back, mortified by my abrupt and forward action, but Seungcheol closed his fingers over mine, stopping me.

                “That’s not how you hold someone’s hand,” he said with a gentle laugh. He adjusted the arrangement so that our touch was more complete. He caught sight of his gift on my wrist.

                “Hey, you wore it! Was it lucky?”

                I was so flustered and preoccupied with the thought that he was holding my hand – even though I initiated it – that I barely answered him.

                “We’ll see when the test results come out.”

                A pause.  “Mimi, can I ask you something?”

                “What is it?” I asked distractedly.

                “You’re not here just because you feel sorry for me, are you?” I could hear the hope in his voice. 

                I hesitated before answering. “No.”

                “Were you worried about me?”

                I pressed my lips together and allowed myself to admit it by nodding slowly.

                He smiled again and squeezed my hand. “I’m okay. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

                I nodded again, the warmth from his hand spreading throughout my body and making me feel like I was the one that was ill.  

                Outside the window, the stars were starting to come out.