Age 18

“Feeling okay?”

“Yeah, just a little…tired.”

Jongin looks into Young In’s eyes with a weak smile.  “You don’t look too good.  Do you want to lie down?  We can go home if you want.”

Young In shakes her head.  “I think I’ll be alright.”

Jongin nods tensely, but settles back into his chair.  It's quiet.

Today is Young In’s appointment with the doctor.  Just an annual check-up at the hospital and Jongin has come with her like he’s done so many times before.  He likes coming with her and seeing the little children who holds the hands of their mother and scowls at the smiling doctors.  It reminds him of a time when he did the same.

Except today seems a little different, a little odd.  He just can't place it.

The white-washed walls of the waiting room are still there.  The reek of powerful antiseptic, the pointless magazines with pages torn out, the tacky potted-plant placed by the door, the uncomfortable chairs without armrests.  Everything is still here.  He even recognizes the receptionist at the front desk, who’s been here so long that the letters on her nameplate are fading.  

Everything is still here, except for Young In sitting beside him, with eyes so red and watery, and a face so tired that he feels like she's lost herself somewhere else.  It's just a cold, but Jongin wishes he could understand the uneasiness rising in his chest as they wait for Young In's name to be called.

She rests her head on his shoulder with a sigh.  Jongin sighs, too, out of worry.

"Park Young?"

Jongin lifts his head to see a nurse, short and thin and wearing a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.  She looks young but her entire head of hair is the color of dimes and nickels.  She looks troubled, like she's seen enough sick patients to last her a lifetime.

“Park Young?” she says again.

“It’s Young In,” Jongin clarifies quietly, seeing that Young In is still resting on his shoulder, eyes closed.  “Park Young In.”

He nudges Young In softly, and she lets out a groggy moan. 

“Your turn,” he whispers against the hot skin of her temple.  She pushes herself from his side and pulls her hair away from her face, revealing a pair of red, weary eyes.  Jongin doesn’t think she’s ever looked so tired.

The nurse tucks her clipboard under her arm and motions Young In into the exam room.

Jongin watches them leave and he feels like he just let his most precious belonging slip away through his fingers.

__

Jongin waits for what seems like hours, staring nervously at the clock on the wall and watching people come and go.  He doesn’t notice the lights dimming slowly as it gets later and later, or the constant rumbling of his stomach—only Young In.  Of what could be happening in the exam room, or if she’s gotten too sick.  

When his phone says 5:00p.m, Jongin’s heart sinks, seeing that he’s now alone in the waiting room. And Young In still hasn’t come back.  He decides to ask the receptionist about Young In’s appointment.

It’s a different person sitting at the front desk this time, a woman in her late thirties with hair so blonde it’s nearly white under the glaring lights. 

“They’re just getting some tests through,” she says with a smile.  “It shouldn’t be too much longer.”  She smiles again, comforting enough to break Jongin’s heart because he knows that that’s what receptionists do—smile even when the person speaking to them is annoying them to the ends of the earth.  They’re paid to do that.  And that’s why Jongin can’t bring himself to trust what she has to say.

“But she’s been in there all afternoon,” Jongin says.  “She came for an annual check-up, not a six hour procedure.  Can you at least tell me what kind of tests they’re doing in there?”

The receptionist clacks away on her keyboard for a few moments.  “I’m sorry hun, but we can’t disclose any information on our patients unless the doctor has given permission.  Or if the patient’s legal guardian is present.  Are you her legal guardian?”

Jongin feels that this whole situation is highly suspicious.  “If I say yes, can I go in to see her?”

The receptionist chuckles imprudently, covering with her polished fingers.  “Tell you what. I’ll let Dr. Kim know that you’ve been waiting for a while.  And like I said, it shouldn’t take too much longer.”

“Thank you,” Jongin mumbles, and returns to his chair running a hand through his hair.

__

An hour later, Jongin's cell phone rings in his pocket.

“Hello?  Is that you, Jongin?”  

It's Young In's mother.

Jongin yawns and nods until he realizes that his actions can’t be seen through the phone.  So he says, “Yes, I am Jongin.”

“Are the two of you still at the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“Did Young In fall in love with the doctor or something?  Or did she fall asleep in the exam room?”

Jongin grins to himself, loving how Young In’s mother could brighten up the entire room with just a couple of words—the true meaning of a mother. 

“They said they’re doing some tests.  But they won’t let me in to see what she’s up to.”

“How dare they separate my spunks?" she growls through the phone.  "You go in there and tell them to let you in, Jongin.  Tell them that Young In will go mad if she doesn’t see you.”

Jongin smiles again.  “Yes, ma’am.  But I think it’s the other way around.  I’m going to go mad if I don’t see her.”

Mrs. Park laughs delicately.  “All right, Mr. Kim.  Give me a call when she comes out?”

“I will.” 

Jongin hangs up and puts his phone away, but not before checking the time again. 

6:10.

__

Jongin doesn't know when he falls asleep, his chin nodding into his chest and his legs sprawling out like a pair of rowing oars before him.  He just remembers waking up, and Young In coming out into the waiting room, seated in a wheelchair pushed by the nurse and dressed in a white hospital gown that defines her pale skin and protruding cheekbones.

Jongin is snapped out of his sleep because seeing her in a wheelchair gives him a shock that he didn't know he could manage.  Something really is wrong.

Young In is wheeled to his side and up close, Jongin notices a bruise on her upper arm that he didn't see before.  He wonders where it came from.  

The doctor comes out moments later, asking for the nurse to leave.  Jongin studies the features of the doctor, who sits down in the chair next to him, facing Young In.  The placard pinned to his white coat reads J. Myun Kim, MD.  He looks young, too young to be a doctor—which uneasily reminds Jongin of what Young In’s mother had said about her daughter falling in love.  

Dr. Kim smiles, almost as sweetly as the receptionist smiled before, but for some reason, Jongin feels that this smile is genuine.  Relief washes over half of his mind.

He sees Dr. Kim reach his hand toward him, initiating a greeting.  Jongin acknowledges it, surprised to find that the doctor’s hands—rough and calloused—are the complete opposite of his tender appearance.

“We’re sorry to have kept you waiting,” Dr. Kim says, his voice strangely soothing amidst the stark silence of the waiting room.  Jongin feels the knot rising in his chest again.  “You must have been worried.”

Jongin stares at Young In, who seems to be uncomfortable in the confines of her wheelchair.

“Don’t worry about the wheelchair,” Dr. Kim says, as if reading Jongin’s mind.  “The nurses gave it to her because she wasn’t looking too well.  You can get up and out of it, if you’d like.”

He turns back to Jongin.  “Are there any adults with you, by any chance?  I would like to speak about Young In’s condition.”

“Condition?” Jongin says, his eyebrows creasing heavily.  “What do you mean?  Is there something wrong?”

Dr. Kim pats Jongin’s arm affectionately.  “First of all, no need for the formalities.  We can talk leisurely, like good friends.”

Jongin doesn’t understand why the doctor looks so calm when Young In is clearly so sick.  He knows something is wrong.

“Is it something serious?” he asks.  “Please tell me.”

Dr. Kim presses his lips together and breathes deeply.  “Young In’s condition…isn’t a small matter, but it’s not impossible to treat.  I just need an authorized adult to speak with.  Are there any adults with you?”

Jongin is too nervous to remember to call Young In’s mother like he was supposed to.  He doesn’t think he wants to, either. 

“No.  There are no adults with us.”

“Is there someone that I could contact?”

Jongin looks at Young In again, who stares back at him with almost pleading eyes. 

“I—I can call Young In’s mother,” Jongin mutters, his throat dry.  “I’ll call her to let her know that Young In’s appointment is over.  I’ll do it.”

Dr. Kim smiles again, softly, this time.  “I’ll go get Young In’s paperwork.”

They watch the doctor fix the collar of his coat and stand as he leaves.

Young In waits until the doctor is out of sight before she whispers, "Are you really going to call Mother?  I don't want her to--"

“What did they do?” Jongin murmurs, grabbing her hand.  “Tests?  What kind of tests?  I was going to come in and see but they wouldn't let me.”

Young In looks down at the hand clasped around hers, biting her bottom lip.

“I don’t know, Jongin.  They did a lot of things.  I don’t know.  But I’m scared.  Let’s go home.  I want to go home.”

Jongin nods quickly, his heart trembling at the quiver in Young In’s voice.  “Home.  Let’s go home.”  He gets up to help her out of the wheelchair.

“Are you really going to give Dr. Kim a contact number?” she asks. 

“I have to.  When the test results come out, we have to—”

“My number.  Give him my number.”

"What?"

Young In clings to Jongin's arm, her legs strangely weak and she feels like she'll fall if he lets go.  "I don't want Mother knowing about any of this.  Today we came for a check-up.  That's all."

Jongin watches her carefully, waiting to see if she'll say anything more.  His heart clenches when he sees her forcing a weak smile, her exhausted lips tracing a shadow of a shadow along what used to be an animated grin.

"Okay," he says.  

__

Jongin takes the paperwork from Dr. Kim and leads Young In out of the hospital before anyone can say anything else.  He wants to get home, as quickly as possible, and away from the confines of a building with beeping machines and whirring wires.  Everything looks dead as they head down to the bus stop, and Jongin wishes he could just close his eyes and shut it all out.

18: 27 pm