It was summer, when Suzy asked me to build a shelf for her, because she ran out of space. Though more of a writer than a reader, Suzy still loved books. She developed a bad habit of hoarding, nevertheless. Once she finds the words of a certain author—and I quote—‘resonate within her soul’, she would buy every written work they published. In a way, her habit was like Sang Moon’s, only, he focused on albums.

Whenever I visited her room and saw the books forcibly squeezed in her shelves, I would turn to her, and say what she has aren’t stories, but mere, blank words. Because she could never find the time to read them. In the end, I would borrow a paperback or two. I felt bad for the books, I suppose. In that incident, though, I realized how fascinating books could be. It was a nice way to kill time, and have my imagination running. It was a nice thought, knowing novelists could paint a picture through words.

Like I said, it was summer, when Suzy asked me to build a shelf for her.

“Just a small one,” she pleaded, while we were on our way home, after buying some ingredients for mother. Despite the time, it was still bright. The urban sky was a mixed shade of orange and pink—like a spilt glass of tropical punch against a blue mantle. “You’re not busy anymore, right? Just a small one where I can fit my notebooks!”

I raised my hands in surrender. The plastic bags I carried, containing the heavier things, crinkled. “I yield, I yield. Where do you want me to put it?”

“There’s space at the foot of my bed,” she told me with glee. “And I found spare wood in the garage. Dad said we can use it, if I convince you to make one for me.”

I chuckled. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you?”

“Because I’m your sister,” she confidently answered. “So will you be able to do it?”

“We can try this Saturday. I’ll have to check the dimensions later on, though.”

“Yes!”

As we walked side by side, I noticed how Suzy grew taller. Her figure, too, was beginning to show despite her baby fats. I wouldn’t be surprised if many would come to admire her. Her personality was naturally bubbly, and like a magnet, it drew people in.

“Suzy-yah,” I began.

“What is it?”

“No boyfriends yet, all right?”

She abruptly stopped dead on her tracks, and I watched, as her cheeks began to turn red. She stomped the concrete ground firmly with her right foot, and bellowed, “I know that!”

Chuckling, I patted her back, urging her to move on forward. I said that, thinking it was a way of protecting her. Truth be told, it was for my own benefit, too. I was relieved, because despite Suzy’s curious age, she kept herself in her own world.

<:>

Saturday arrived. It was nine in the morning when someone rang our doorbell. I opened the door, only to see a skinny boy standing in front of me, with short, black hair and huge eyes. His white shirt glowed beneath the sunshine, and his jeans, I noticed, had rips. He had feminine features. With his sharp cheekbones and milky complexion, he indeed looked like a girl.

“May I help you?” I finally asked.

He bowed, and looked at me straight in the eye. “Suzy asked me to come over. My name is Sungjong. Lee Sungjong.”

“Sungjong-ah!”

The both of us reacted to the voice, and the next thing I knew, Suzy zoomed past me, and hugged the young boy.

“Oppa, this is Sungjong,” she said. “I invited him so we can watch you build the shelf.”

I smirked. “No dice on helping me out?”

“We can make you snacks and stuff,” Suzy bargained.

Suddenly, Sungjong raised his right hand. “H-Hyung…I’ll help.”

“Thank you,” I stepped aside, and said, “Come on in. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Uhm—”

“I told him to eat here,” Suzy chimed in, not even bothering to hide the excitement in her voice. “Hey, Sungjong, I waited for you! Mom’s food is really delicious. Oppa, let’s all eat together!”

“But where’s your brother?” Sungjong asked.

“He’s sleeping in,” Suzy answered. “They extended their practice last night. He reeked of Salonpas it’s not even funny.”

The two kept on talking, while I simply stayed quiet. Suzy was outgoing, but she rarely had friends come over our house. Sungjong was the first, so I understand why she couldn’t keep still. I told them to sit, and I began to serve.

“Hyung, I’ll help,” Sungjong offered.

“You’re all right,” I answered. “I appreciate the sentiments, though. But today, let me serve you.”

I took the plates, while Suzy prepared the drinks. She made two cups of hot chocolate and coffee. Suzy did most of the talking, to which I was thankful, considering it was something I couldn’t do. After washing the dishes, we all headed to the front yard. Sungjong helped me with the lumber and the tools, while Suzy cleared the area we were supposed to work in.

“Do you know how to make a bookshelf, hyung?” Sungjong asked.

I stretched the measuring tape, and marked the wood with a pencil. “Maybe.”

“It’s your first time doing woodwork,” he pointed out.

“Hm. I watched several YouTube videos. We should be all right.”

He watched me work in silence for a while, and finally, when Suzy was out of earshot, he said, “Suzy’s really popular at school.”

I glanced at him, and smiled. “I see.”

“She’s really proud of you and Sang Moon, too. I feel that, whenever she tells stories involving the both of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

The young man shrugged. “You seem worried about her.”

“How so?” I challenged, clearly amused.

“I saw,” he simply replied. “The way you looked at her earlier. You seemed relieved. Though I do not know if it’s because Suzy finally brought a friend with her, or if it’s because I am not her boyfriend.”

“It’s both,” I said. Sungjong, I figured, was quite receptive for his age. He knew how to observe. He did it well. I suppose that was the reason why Suzy came to befriend him.

He smiled. “You seem honest.”

“Seem?”

“Seem.”

Lee Sungjong, who was about the same age as Suzy, saw right through me.

<:>

I was already in my first year of university. I had the opportunity to aim higher, but I chose Philosophy. My classmates were shocked when they heard my choice. I was not surprised, though. By chance, I bumped into Sunny. She had cut her hair short, and even dyed it brown. Spring was at its peak, then, with cherry blossom petals abundantly falling, swaying with the wind. The sky was a soft shade of blue. Everything was mellowed down.

“Still short, I see,” I teased.

She gave me a friendly punch on the shoulder. “I’m small. Just like your eyes.”

Sunny was, surprisingly, wearing a floral dress paired with white flats. We decided to stay in a café, to catch up with each other. We both ordered Americano. We gradually warmed up to each other while exchanging common questions and replies—as if tapping the tip of an iceberg, wondering how far we could go.

“It’s rare to see you in this area,” she said.

“I attended the orientation in the university I applied in,” I replied. “It’s just a few blocks away from here.”

“I see. What course are you taking?”

“Philosophy.”

“I see.”

I didn’t reply. Smirking, she asked me if there was something wrong. I shook my head, and told her it was a first: having a classmate not be surprised.

“Well, I sort of see why they would be,” she played around with the paper napkin near her, crumpling it and straightening it up again. “You’re Kim Sunggyu, after all. The ideal boyfriend, every man’s rival Kim Sunggyu. The one and only.”

“You flatter me so,” I replied.

She chuckled. “Cryptic as ever, I see. I hoped you would be more transparent.”

“Am I not?”

Sunny heaved a sigh. “Well, let’s get back on track, shall we? What are you hoping to become after studying that?”

“A teacher,” I said. “But I do want to work in a publishing company someday.”

“Why?”

“I wonder.”

She smiled. It wasn’t long before our orders arrived. We thanked the waitress, and she looked at me. “You mentioned, before, that your younger sister likes to write.”

“You have a strong memory.”

“That’s not the case,” she waved her hands in front of her chest. “I simply remember the things you’ve said better.”

“Oh.”

“You love her that much?” Sunny casually asked.

“Hm.”

“Just what kind of love is that, Sunggyu? She’s five years younger than you. That makes her fourteen this year, right?”

“She won’t stay fourteen forever.”

“That is one frightening response,” Sunny replied, her eyes fixed on her cup. She wrapped her hands around the porcelain container. “I gave you the benefit of the doubt before, but I suppose my hunch is right.”

I bit my lower lip. I couldn’t even meet her in the eye. Instead, I looked outside the window, and watched the bustling streets, filled with people and vehicles.

“Then how about you?” I followed up, hoping to break the silence. “What are you doing?”

“I dropped out after high school,” she promptly answered. “I’m helping my parents with the shop. And then I’ll marry an average man with an average income, and have an average life.”

The way she said that caused me to shift my gaze. I looked at her, and tears began to emerge from her eyes. She hurriedly wiped them away with her wrinkled paper napkin.

“I wasn’t supposed to cry,” she sniffed. “Sorry.”

“Crying is something one shouldn’t be apologetic about,” I quietly replied. “Let it all out, Sunny.”

And she did. She wept. It was choked up, and some customers were beginning to look. We didn’t care, though. It was so obvious. Sunny wanted to go to university, too. She never told me anything in detail, but she thanked me anyway, for listening.

“I couldn’t cry in front of my parents, so you helped a lot.”

“No worries,” I replied.

We finished our coffee, and when it was time to go, she asked, “What’s your reply?”

“Hm?”

“When I told you I liked you,” she began. “You remember that, right? You just stood up, and walked away. What’s your reply to that?”

I stayed silent. I closed my eyes, and I was back in that time. Sunny and I sitting beneath the gigantic cherry blossom tree; the scent of the soft earth, mixed with blades of grass and flowers; the soft sky; the chatters of students fading in the background.

I like you.

Opening my eyes, I saw Sunny, already standing in front of me, expectant.

“What’s your reply to that?” she repeated.

“Thank you.”

A warm laughter erupted from her tiny frame. “As expected. I’ll see you around, Sunggyu.”

And just like that, she stood up. Back straight, chest out and shoulders square, she walked away from me, and from our awkward past.

<:>

It was already nine in the evening when I arrived home. Everyone, except for Suzy, was downstairs. I said my greetings and headed to my room, but paused by the door when I saw Suzy on my chair, reading a notebook. My notebook—the very one Sunny left beneath her desk. She was too absorbed to even notice my presence.

“This won’t do,” I whispered, before dashing for the bathroom, making it obvious that I was already home. I stayed for a bit longer, and flushed. By the time I went back to my room, she was already gone.

I quickly grabbed my notebook, and bit by bit, the pieces came together: the reason why Suzy changed her favorite scent—from watermelons, it became strawberry; why she began wearing certain things, and saying certain jokes. I raked my hand through my hair, and decided to pretend I never saw any of it. I convinced myself, that it was but a phase for her. Suzy was only fourteen—surely a growing girl like her had her own curiosity.

With that resolve, I headed to the living room and played around with Sang Moon. Mother asked if I already ate dinner, and I said yes.

“I also saw an old friend of mine,” I carried on. “We caught up with each other.”

<:>

The start of the first semester was a bit rocky for me. Although I braced myself to encounter such difficulties, it still was a struggle for me to overcome them. Being human, I admit I was in a dry season during my adolescence. With Wooyoung’s death, along with Mrs. Kim’s—it was difficult for me to accept that reality. As a result, I was not as honest as I wanted to be. Instead, I covered my lack of authenticity with good works and attitude. It wore me out all the more, playing pretend. The worse thing was, I actually knew what I was doing. I knew I didn’t have to try so hard. I knew they would understand, if I told them my worries. But I chose to keep quiet. That being said, the lectures I would hear from my classes didn’t help me at all. Basically, I began to doubt.

Several months passed, and the days were beginning to get darker. It was around that time, when I saw several men—obviously drunk—surround a student in the bus stop. It was already late. I was too tired. I couldn’t even be bothered.

Like I said, apathy was my worst enemy.

Nevertheless, I had no idea why. A certain force urged me to approach them. Quietly, I broke into the circle, and wrapped my arm around the stranger’s shoulders. Instantly, I smelled strawberries.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I began. “Let’s head home.”

Without looking back, I led the woman out. When we were in a safe distance, I let her go, and apologized. “You must have been shocked, Miss, but you were in a tight situation earlier. I’m sorry for imposing like that.”

“It’s all right, Sunggyu.”

I paused, and turned to look at her. We were standing beneath a bright lamppost, with countless vehicles zooming past us—we were already near the main road. Her intelligent eyes, and long, dark hair. The quiet aura she had, which carried a certain gentleness you could not help but stare. It was her.

“Sunye?”

She breathed out a sigh of relief. “So you remember!”

Afterwards, she bowed down, and said, “I’ve seen you a couple of times already, but I was too shy to approach you.”

“You should’ve,” I replied. “What are you studying now, then?”

“Drama,” she smiled at me. “It’s out of my comfort zone, but I want to reenact the things I see in the books I’ve read.”

“I see.”

“Well, what are you doing?”

“Philosophy,” I answered.

She chortled at the thought. “Why am I not surprised?”

Soon, our shoulders relaxed, and the distance we had from when we first started talking decreased. We mutually agreed to take detours. We somehow didn’t want the conversation to end, so we stopped by a café. She ordered a cup of caramel macchiato, while I settled for plain coffee.

“Do you like sweet things?” I asked.

“Sometimes,” she answered. “And do you always order strong coffee?”

“Sometimes,” I reciprocated.

She flashed me that quiet smile of hers. “You’ve always been so cautious, Sunggyu.”

“You think?”

“You evade questions by asking questions.”

“Really, now?”

“See?” she pointed out. “You’re doing it again!”

“Ah, but of course.”

Sunye stayed silent for a moment. She carefully stirred the froth in her cup, before her stirrer clean. “You know, if you keep on building walls like that, people will not see, just how beautiful your heart is.”

I stayed silent.

“You do not have to deny it, as well. I saw it firsthand. I saw it, because of the way you treated your siblings.”

“Is that the reason why you started reading the books I’ve borrowed?” I asked.

“Partly,” she answered. “Though that theory of mine was proven to be futile.”

“You’re being too harsh on yourself,” I remarked.

Sunye shook her head no. “It’s true. You cannot know a person from the books they read. I guess the most effective way, is to introduce yourself to them.”

“How nice,” I commented.

“You actually sound sarcastic, whenever you speak like that,” she replied.

“I am not, though.”

“Of course,” she nodded away, and stretched her hand out.  “Mind introducing yourself first?”

I was taken aback by her request. Nevertheless, I awkwardly shook her hand. “Sunggyu. Kim Sunggyu. I study Philosophy. I think I’m beginning to doubt God.”

“Oh, this is very timely,” Sunye squeezed my hand. “Because I have just been there.”

I glanced at my half-consumed coffee, stagnant; lukewarm. “Your turn.”

She smiled at me. “Hello, Kim Sunggyu. My name is Lee Sunye. I major in Drama, and I have cancer.”

"Now God has us where he wants us, with all the time in this world and the next to shower grace and kindness upon us in Christ Jesus. Saving is all his idea, and all his work. All we do is trust him enough to let him do it. It’s God’s gift from start to finish! We don’t play the major role. If we did, we’d probably go around bragging that we’d done the whole thing! No, we neither make nor save ourselves. God does both the making and saving. He creates each of us by Christ Jesus to join him in the work he does, the good work he has gotten ready for us to do, work we had better be doing."
- Ephesians 2:7-10