Dara

“Dara, I can’t believe he text-dumped you,” my best friend, Taeyang, says, reading the three sentences on my cell phone screen as he sits at the desk in my room. “It’s nt wrkg out. Sry. Don’t h8 me.” He tosses the phone back to me. “The least he could have done is spell it out. Don’t h8 me? The guy’s a joke. Of course you’re gonna hate him.”

I lie back on my bed and stare at the ceiling, remembering the first time Jaejoong and I kissed. It was at the outdoor summer concert in Busan behind the ice cream vendor.

“I liked him.”

“Yeah, well I never did. Don’t trust someone you meet in the waiting room at your therapist’s office.”

I flip onto my stomach and sit up on my elbows.

“It was speech therapy. And he just drove his brother for sessions.”

Taeyang, who has never liked a guy I’ve dated, pulls out a pink skull-and-crossbones notebook from my desk drawer. He shakes his index finger at me.

“Never trust a guy who tells you he loves you on the second date. Happened to me once. It was a total joke.”

“Why? Don’t you believe in love at first sight?”

“No. I believe in lust at first sight. And attraction. But not love. Jaejoong told you he loved you just so he could get into your pants.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a guy, that’s how I know.” Taeyang frowns. “You didn’t do it with him, did you?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head to emphasize my answer. We fooled around, but I didn’t want to take it to the next level. I just, I don’t know . . . I wasn’t ready. I haven’t seen or talked to Jaejoong since school started two weeks ago. Sure, we texted a few times, but he always said he was busy and would call when he got a minute. He’s a senior in Sungkyunkwan twenty minutes away and I go to school in Seoul High, so I just thought he was busy with school stuff. But now I know the reason we haven’t talked wasn’t because he was busy. It was because he wanted to break up.

Was it because of another girl?

Was it because I wasn’t pretty enough?

Was it because I wouldn’t have with him?

It can’t be because I stutter. I’ve been working on my speech all summer and haven’t stuttered once since June. Every week I went to speech therapy, every day I practice speaking in front of a mirror, every minute I’m conscious of the words that come out of my mouth. Before now I always had to worry when I spoke, waiting for that confused look people got and then that “Oh, I understand— she’s got a problem” revelation. Then came the look of pity. And then the “she must be stupid” assumption. Or, in the case of some of the girls in my school, my stuttering was the source of amusement.

But I don’t stutter anymore.

Taeyang knows this is the year I’m determined to show my confident side— the side I’ve never shown the kids at school. I’ve been shy and introverted my first three years of high school, because I’ve had an intense fear of people making fun of me stuttering. From now on instead of Park Sandara being remembered for being shy, they’re going to remember me as the one who wasn’t afraid to speak up.

I didn’t count on Jaejoong breaking up with me. I thought we’d go to Homecoming together, and prom . . .

“Stop thinking about Jaejoong,” Taeyang orders.

“He was cute.”

“So is a hairy ferret, but I wouldn’t want to date one. You could do better than him. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Look at me,” I tell him. “Face reality, Taeyang. I’m no Sohee.”
 

“Thank God for that. I hate Sohee.”
 

Sohee raises the term “mean girls” to an entirely new level. The girl is good at everything she tries and could be easily crowned the most popular girl in school. Every girl wants to be friends with her so they can hang with the cool crowd. Sohee creates the cool crowd.

“Everyone likes her.”

“That’s because they’re afraid of her. Secretly everyone hates her.” Taeyang starts scribbling words in my notebook, then hands it to me. “Here,” he says, then tosses me a pen. I stare at the page. RULES OF ATTRACTION is written on top, and a big line is drawn down the center of the page.

“What is this?”
 

“In the left column write down all the great things about you.”
 

Is he kidding? “No.”
 

“Come on, start writing. Consider this a self-help exercise, and a way for you to realize that girls like Sohee aren’t even attractive. Finish the sentence I, Park Sandara, am great because . . .”

I know Taeyang isn’t going to let up, so I write something stupid