I started spending every lunch time in Mr. Choi’s woodwork room, and he didn’t seem to care. We would make things, like carving out my name in a piece of wood, and we even made a pencil holder which I gave Umma and she really liked. He was just so nice. And he always said what a good job I was doing. Spending time with him made me feel happier than I had in a long time. School used to be a place I dreaded going, where I used to count down the hours and minutes before I could go home.  Now I had a friend, even if he was a teacher.

But it hadn’t gone unnoticed by anyone, especially by Kai.

“So what do you think you two will make for your individual projects?” Mr. Choi asked.

“I want to make another chair,” said Kai.

“We’ve already made that though Kai,” reasoned Mr. Choi. “Try to think of something we haven’t done. What about you, Taeminnie?”

Kai scowled.

“I want to make a dream catcher,” I said.

“That sounds good,” he said. He leant closer to me so that Kai couldn’t hear as he erased his sketch. “Very original idea, sweetheart,” he murmured before moving onto another group.

Mr. Choi sometimes called the girls sweethearts, but he had never called me one before. I couldn’t stop smiling and blushing as I looked down at my drawing of my dreamcatcher. When I finally up, I was surprised to see Kai staring at me, a frown etched on his face. He spent the whole lesson trying to get in between me and Mr Choi.

Dickhead.

I was walking home by myself, thinking about what I should eat when I got home. I was trying to remember if I had eaten the last hot pocket or not, and squinting in the afternoon sun when I heard gravel crunching behind me.

“You know, all the times I called you , I didn’t know you were one,” growled Kai as he grabbed my backpack, not letting me move.

“Leave me alone,” I said, struggling to get out of his grip.

“What do you think you’re doing, Taemin? What do you think you’re doing?”

His face was in an expression I had never seen before, his normally bored too cool face now morphed into one that was twisted into anger and... worry? He had to be kidding. Why was Kai worried? He ran his hand over his light brown hair as the wind blew through us.

“Mr. Choi  is a pedo. Stay away from him.”

“Mr. Choi is not a pedo. He’s just nice to me.”

“You little !” he said, grabbing my arms. “He’s not just nice to you. It’s not right the way he treats you. Don’t think I don’t know how you spend every lunch time in his room making little bits and bobs together like a romantic movie or something. That’s illegal, Taemin. If you were a girl, he would totally be going to jail.”

“Shut up!” I cried, slapping his hands away from me. “Just because someone is finally nice to me, it’s a crime? Just leave me alone. I don’t know why you’re always in my business. Go away!”

 I ran home, mad, angry, furious that someone thought me and Mr. Choi were wrong. He was the only person who was nice to me in my life right now, and someone wanted to take that away from me. Who did Kai think he was? I ran home, when all I wanted was to run in the opposite direction back to the school, where Mr. Choi would ask me what was wrong and buy me chocolate milk and he would ask me about what foods I liked and that stupid little boys like Kai didn’t matter and that in ten more years he would be asking me for a job. Mr. Choi was the only one who cared about making me happy. Why was that wrong?

“Hey kid,” said Jake when I ran in through the door breathlessly.

“Where’s Umma?” I asked, looking around. It was weird for Jake to be home this early and no Umma in sight.

“Your Mom’s gone for a conference tonight, remember? It’s just you and me,” Jake said, digging in his bowl full of corn chips as he lounged on the couch watching baseball.  What a useless waste of space.

 I wished Mr. Choi was here instead.

I couldn’t help frowning when I saw what was for dinner. I had sat down awkwardly at the dinner table when Jake had called, unsure what to do. I had never really been alone with Jake before.

For dinner he had made sandwiches, a messy stack of lettuce that was spilling out, tomatoes, ham and mayonnaise all in between two pieces of white bread that were in different shapes with potato chips on the side.

“Where’s the rice?” I asked.

“Well, I figured you might be sick of all the Korean food, so I made us some real American food. And I don’t know how to cook rice to save my life, kiddo,” he joked.

My Umma would have a fit if she saw what we were having. She insisted on home cooked meals every night. Sandwiches were only for lunch. Rice and kimchi were staples. Chips at dinner was a definite no-no.

I picked up my sandwich, a tomato sliding out.

“So buddy, any girls catch your eye at school?” he said as he took a big bite out of his sandwich. Gross. I made a face.

“I don’t like any girls,” I said softly, picking at the crusts.

“Well, I suppose you’re a little too young. Girls are nothing but trouble. And I know you’ll be beating them off with a stick when you grow up.”

I didn’t know what that meant so I didn’t say anything. I don’t like girls. I don’t think I ever will.

“I was thinking, maybe you wanted to watch a movie later?”

“Okay.”

We sat on opposite sides of the couch as he popped in ‘Remember the Titans’, the clock at 7:30pm.  It was his favorite movie, he said. He had said I could pick, but I don’t think he would have wanted to watch the old Pokemon movie I had.

I thought about Mr. Choi. I wondered why I liked him so much. He made me feel very good about myself. Just remembering how he smiled when I told him that chocolate milk was my favorite milk flavor made my cheeks automatically lift. It wasn’t like I could like like him, though. He was way too old.

I looked at Jake, who was staring at the screen like he had no brain. Why couldn’t he be Mr. Choi? Then Mr. Choi could be with me all the time.

I nearly screamed in joy at my new revelation. Now I had a new scenario to imagine with! Mr. Choi being my new Dad. That would be the best thing to happen to me! He would be the one home today, and he would have made something yummy like chicken nuggets in the oven, and he would make fun of the girls in my class and make me laugh. And then he would make me choose a movie to watch, and he would copy the voices of the Pokemon with me. He would be all mine, and look after me because he cared so much about me. I didn’t want to kiss Mr. Choi or anything like that. I just wanted to snuggle into him. I wanted to close my eyes and be able to nestle into Mr. Choi’s warm and soft shoulder and sigh happily as I drifted off to sleep, like I once saw a baby do on her father when I was in the mall. I felt just as tired as that baby I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off, and decided to rest my eyes for a little while.

I woke up in my own bed, not wanting to think how I had gotten there. I got up, making my way to the kitchen where Jake was stirring coffee, checking his iPad and trying to pack his briefcase at the same time.

“Here,” he said hurriedly, shoving me bills from his pocket. ‘Buy yourself some lunch today. Your Mom should be here when you get back. I’ll drive you in. Hurry though, I’m running late. We’re leaving in 10 minutes.”

Sleepily, I got out a bagel, hunting for a plate and knife to butter it with.

“Uh bud, could you hurry it up a bit? We have to go soon. Have you got your bag? Where are your sport shoes for gym?”

“In my room,” I grumbled, sliding the bagel in the toaster.

“Well, get them out. Did you finish your homework?”

“Why do you care?” I mumbled.

“Whoa, you’re killing me with the attitude little man. Look, time’s awastin’. Get your stuff and get in the car.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” I said, pouring myself a glass of milk.

“Very funny kid, as I said, you’re killing me. I’m not arguing with you Taemin. Get in the car, or you’re walking.”

“I don’t have to listen to you.”

“I don’t know what that has to do with anything, but little dude, yes you do have to listen to me. Now get your stuff and get in the car! Stop drinking that milk and get a move on!”

“No! You can’t tell me what to do!” I exploded. “You’re not my dad!”

We stared at each other in heated silence. He had never heard me yell before, and this might have been the longest conversation we had ever had.

“I’m really trying here, Taemin,” he said through gritted teeth, angry eyes fixed on the counter.  “Get in the car,” he muttered and walked out the door.

“What time is Umma coming back?” I asked after one of Jake’s crappy songs played in the car.

“Maybe 1? She’ll be back when you get home,” he said again, his eyes fixed on the road.

“Are you sure?” I insisted.

I saw his jaw jump. What was his problem?

“I’m sure kiddo,” he sighed. “Did you really not have that much fun with me?”

No. I shrugged instead.

“Have a good day,” he said as we neared the school drop off zone. I ignored Jake and got out the car.

I couldn’t wait until lunchtime. I wanted to see Mr. Choi. He always made me feel better. I wanted time to fastforward so I was in his classroom already. I really wished he was my stepfather instead of stupid Jake now. I started daydreaming again, my imagination opening my fantasy world. Mr. Choi  would never shout at me. He would never rush me, because we would go to school together.

I started imagining Mr. Choi being my handsome father again. What if he was the one that my mother left in Korea, but he traced us to this town and got a job here in hopes of meeting me? And then I would miraculously find this out when my Umma let his name slip, and I would go to Mr. Choi and demand him to tell me the truth. And then he would say that he could never get me out of his mind, his little son who had only seen a glimpse of, and it tortured him because he loved his son so much. So much that he had to see him now, and seeing me grown up, even an hour a day, made him happy beyond belief, because all he had wished for was for me to be happy and healthy and he was too scared to tell me in case it made me confused. And then he would hold me, and my mouth would hurt from smiling so much because I knew that my Daddy loved me all along and that I was safe and secure. And then he would meet Umma and they would fall in love again and she would divorce Jake and marry Mr. Choi and then we would be real family.

“Daydreaming, Taemin?”

I looked up at my teacher who was peering at my blank worksheet.

“Just thinking,” I said weakly.

“Get those thoughts into words then,” she said. “This needs to be done before the bell rings.”

But it wasn’t going to happen. Of course Mr. Choi wasn’t my real father. My real father’s last name was Park, not Choi. My Umma would never divorce Jake, and Mr. Choi would never hold me because he wasn’t anything of mine. And I could never be truly happy and feel safe. I was stupid for dreaming so much. I hated my mind sometimes.

“What’s wrong, Taemin?” asked Mr. Choi when I came in at lunch. He was sitting on his desk, writing stuff. The whole day I had been see sawing between imagining him as my stepfather or real father, and scolding myself for daydreaming so badly. It was so unfair. Why couldn’t things I wished for come true?

“I wish you were my dad,” I confessed. “I hate my stepfather.”

“Whoa,” he said softly as I started crying, trying to catch my breath and swallow mucus at the same time. “What happened?”

“You’re so nice, Mr. Choi,” I sniffled, wiping my tears and nose on my sleeve. “I wish my step father was as nice as you!”

I tried to jump into his lap at this point, where he froze and for a second I was sitting on him, crying as I tried to reach for him.

“Oh no,” he said quickly. “Oh no, no, Taemin.”

He grabbed me by the arm pits and hauled me to a standing position before standing himself, stiffly holding me at arm’s length.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I blabbered, the most embarrassed I had ever been in my life.

He sighed, letting go of me to pat my hair.

“Oh Taeminnie,” he sighed again before enveloping me into a hug.

Was this real? I asked myself as I closed my eyes, hiccupping. His cologne surrounded me, and his shirt was soft against my cheek. But the thing that got me was the warmth. He was so warm, even more than I had imagined. No one had hugged me in ages. I cried harder, unable to stop my staccato breathing and hiccupping as he rubbed my back.

“Calm down, calm down,” he murmured.

After a while, he gently pulled out of the hug, letting me swipe at my cheeks and eyes with my hands while holding my shoulders.

“Now, you know that no one can know about what happened here, okay? Teachers aren’t allowed to hug students, even if I was only trying to make you feel better, alright?”

I nodded.

“Good boy,” he said, handing me tissues. “I’m sorry about your stepfather Taeminnie. What did he do?”

I complained to him about Jake, how he never cared and he was mean.

“I’m sure Jake is trying, Taemin,” he reasoned. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to hurt your feelings. He’s never intentionally mean, is he?”

I nodded.

“You need to get tidied up before lunch is over Taemin, okay? You don’t want your classmates to know you’ve been crying, do you?”

I shook my head as he handed me more tissues and a carton of chocolate milk.

He gently cupped my face and used a finger to tilt my face up.

“Chin up, Taemin,” he smiled and I gave a watery smile.

And then he kissed the top of my head.

I looked up at him in shock.

“Run along, sweetheart.”

Someone knocked on the toilet door.

“Um, I’m in here,” I said, wiping my nose.

“Taemin?” said Kai’s voice.

Oh no.

“Go away Kai,” I said stuffily, grabbing more toilet paper.

“I saw what that pedo did to you.”

My heart started pounding in ears when I heard him say that. I unlocked the door.

“Don’t tell anyone!” I blurted out.

“But what he did was wrong, Taemin!” he said, eyes wide open. “He can’t do that. He’s a teacher!”

I grabbed Kai. “He was just being nice to me Kai, because I was sad. That’s all.”

“You were sitting on his lap! And then he hugged you and touched your face! And then he kissed you! That’s not allowed!”

“Why do you even care, Kai?” I hissed. “You don’t even care about me, don’t start now. Don’t tell anyone about this!”

“Taemin,” he said seriously, looking into my eyes. “I don’t really care about you.  But I’m not going to let some teacher molest you! What if he molests me too?”     

“He wouldn’t want to molest you,” I scoffed.

“And you know this how?” he demanded.

“Kai!” I cried, grabbing his jacket as he tried to move away. “You really can’t tell anyone!”

He looked at me with sad eyes. “I’m really sorry, chicken boy,” he said finally. “But I don’t think it’s right.”

“I’ll tell them you bully me!” I said desperately.

“I’m sorry Taemin,” he said, pulling his jacket from my hands and patting my arms. “I’m sorry I’m mean to you.”

A/N

So what you fink is gonna happen? :3

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