two

Lyrics: I hate the beach / But I stand in California / With my toes in the sand

Interpretation: It’s ironic he’s at the beach given he hates them. Perhaps the person that he’s with is more important?

In February, Bae Joohyun is asked by her school to enrol in an eight day camp where she’d be a junior counsellor. With permission from her parents, she arrives at Jeju on the sixth. When she arrives at the beautiful camp, some schoolmates of hers are already there.

Woo Jiho, Lee Taemin and his distant cousin Kim Jongin and the Kang cousins: Seungyoon and Seulgi.

Being the only two girls of the bunch, Joohyun feels grateful for Seulgi’s bright, eye catching personality. Seulgi is so tall and athletic and her striking eyes caught the attention of many. Joohyun doesn’t mind being Seulgi’s shadow; the younger girl spared Joohyun from embarrassing herself.

She just isn’t cut out to be an over-the-top bubbly girl. Being a steady, supportive and attentive counsellor, she can do in with her eyes closed. A socialite, however, was an entirely different story.

Though the main goal for the programme is to ‘unlock the inner creativity in the youth’ (as originally stated by the elderly head counsellor, Shiho), there are many sports activities planned. For the first three days, Joohyun spends her time in the arts and crafts room with the pre-teens, but on the fourth day, Seulgi demands that Joohyun come with her to soccer.

There are more guys than girls at the soccer field, as it turned out. There is one guy. No, there is more than one guy, but for Joohyun, at that moment, there is one guy. 

He’s a coach, it appears. He’s on the other side of the field, consulting with Shiho. He has dark straight hair and skin a few shades darker than hers. He’s tall and lean, but evidently muscular. Even from here, his face looks complicated for a soccer coach. He is beautiful. 

“It’s not polite to stare.” 

Joohyun turns and smiles at Seulgi. “I can’t help myself.” 

Seulgi nods. “He is every kind of hot.” 

“Do you know him?” Joohyun asks. 

“From last year’s summer program,” Seulgi explained. “He was the assistant coach of my team. We drooled all summer.” 

“What’s his name?” 

“Choi Minho. He’s from Incheon. He’s a member of the Junior National Team but he’s currently in talks for the Senior. I guess he’ll probably be in the next World Cup, if his university allows him.” 

So he’s older, but not that much older. 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Seulgi says, reading her mind. “The camp has a big ant fraternizing policy, obviously. He follows it, though a lot of people have tried to get him not to. Myself included.” 

“Let’s gather!” Shiho shouts across the milling clumps of young people. 
Seulgi throws Joohyun a brief smile over her shoulder that clearly reads: no offence. Joohyun trails after her, hands swinging around and briefly brushing against the sweater wrapped modestly around her waist. She tells herself that she’s okay with Choi Minho not being available to her, much less anyone else, but unbeknownst to her, her pink lips are set in a rebellious pout.

“I’m going to read out the teams,” Shiho tells the assembled group. Like many other long-time coaches, she has a voice loud as a bullhorn when it is necessary. “This is a big deal, okay? You stick with your team for the remaining four days, from the first scrimmages to the final tournament at the end of the eight days, okay? Know your team. Love your team.” She looks around at the collection of faces. “You all know great soccer isn’t about great players. It’s about great teams.” 

The crowd lets out a little cheer. Joohyun loves these pep talks — well, all kinds of pep talks in general. She loves self-improvement and encouragement, due to the lack of encouragement she often receives from her workaholic parents. She knows they are corny, but they always worked on her.

She imagines her best friend Wendy rolling her eyes. 

“Before I read out the teams, let me introduce the rest of the staff—coaches, assistant coaches, and trainers.” Shiho goes through all of them, giving their names and a little bit about their backgrounds, and finishing with Minho. Does Minho get an extra loud cheer, or does Joohyun imagine it? 

Shiho explains there are six teams, distinct from the cabin assignments. Each team has its own colour, and they would each be given team shirts when their names are called. For the moment they’d be called one through six, and then the teams could have the honour of naming themselves. Blah blah. Shiho assigns each of the six teams a head coach, an assistant, and a trainer. Minho is with team four. 

Please let me be on his team, Joohyun silently begged. 

Shiho consults the ubiquitous clipboard. 

“Ahn, Sohee, team five.” 

Shiho is very, very, excruciatingly close to the Bs, when she whips around suddenly with an expectant look on her face. Joohyun is slightly creeped out that Shiho turns on mere intuition.

“Mr. Song, so nice of you to finally show up! I thought you wouldn’t turn up!”

And there he is, Song Mino, walking leisurely towards the group, hands in the pockets of his soccer shorts, in the warmth of the morning sun.

He gives Shiho a slightly humbled smile. “So sorry Shiho. I took the ferry.”

The middle aged woman’s grip on her clipboard tightens ever so slightly before she tries for a smile. It isn’t a secret how much time, effort and money Shiho spends on this camp. “Well, I’m just glad you made it dear. Now go on and stand with Minseok over there.” Joohyun’s lips fight a smile at the relaxed expression on Mino’s face as he moves to stand beside Kim Minseok, the coach for team three.

“Everyone, this is Song Mino. NOT Min-ho. That’s the handsome young talent whose coaching team four.”

The girls (all of twenty) giggle in assent and Minho’s face breaks into the most pleasured, yet evidently shy smile. Beside Joohyun, Seulgi’s peculiar cat eyes flicker to meet Minho’s dark brown ones for the briefest moment. When he looks away, Seulgi’s eyes drift downwards.

Hmm, Joohyun thinks as she studies Seulgi’s face. Her interest is piqued, but she doesn’t say a word with all the bystanders.

Shiho continues to call the rest of As, and then at last, the Bs arrive. “Bae, Joohyun, team three.” 

She’s a bit disappointed. Before she moves forward, she pulls her hair out of the elastic. It falls around her shoulders in a silken, black mass and it contrasts greatly with the paleness of her skin, which seems to capture far more than its fair share of sunlight. She wanders over to where Shiho had gathered with the other coaches and collects her dark red T-shirt.
 

But when she strides forward to Minseok and Mino, Minho’s eyes trail after her form for a short while before snapping back attentively to Shiho’s form, as all the coaches and their assistants should.

Joohyun walks past Minseok and Minho, who stand at the head of the team three line to the back of it. Similarly, Mino’s eyes watch her, but he takes much longer to clear the soapy smell of her hair and the swishing of her hair that never fails to entice him, out of his mind and turn around.

In any case, Joohyun is aware this time, and she is gratified, despite how quasi-promiscuous it might seem, that neither is immune to her hair.  
 

“Uh-oh.” Nana, a girl that goes to the fancy all girls’ academy in Seoul that Joohyun transferred from, looks away from her reflection in the cabin’s mirror later that night. “Sseul has on her pirate face.” 

“I do not,” Seulgi protests, though she completely did. 

Joohyun sits cross-legged on her bed. A lot of girls in the cabin had already put on their nightshirts and stuff. “You want to raid the coaches’ cabin?” she asks. 

Seulgi raises her eyebrows in interest. “Actually, that sounds nice, but that’s not what I was thinking.” 

“What were you thinking?” Nana asks like a know-it-all. 

“Two words. Hotel Hacienda.” Joohyun had heard about that place on her second day here. It’s this Cuban-Korean bar — emphasis on Cuban — not very far away from the camp. Taemin was telling her that day that the coaches and the assists went there every night.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to,” Nana says. 

“Why not?” Seulgi demands and places her hands on her hips. “Hyoyeon is twenty and Bora’s nineteen. You and Joohyun are going to university in the fall, just like majority of the other girls in this cabin.” Seulgi herself isn’t one of them, at age sixteen, but Joohyun doesn’t feel the need to mention it. “This isn’t Camp Bada where you turn off your flashlights at nine. I mean, come on. We’re Camp Spirit-Thunder!”

“The first scrimmage is tomorrow,” Hyoyeon points out. She emerges from the cabin’s bathroom and rolls onto Joohyun’s bed. One of her legs rests on the younger girl’s belly. Joohyun giggles a bit; it’s like having a really heavy cat on your belly.

“So? Partying makes you play better,” Seulgi says blithely. That is a statement that belongs with “Drinking makes you drive better,” or “Getting stoned makes you good at physics,” but Seulgi is in one of her impulsive moods and too far gone to be reasoned with.

“How do we go?” Bora asks. She is practical, but she isn’t a coward. 

Seulgi considers. “We could either steal a van or take bikes. I think it’s about half an hour on bikes if you ride fast.”

“Let’s take bikes,” Hyoyeon said. 

Joohyun feels that slightly reckless fizz in her veins she always gets when she’s about to do something she shouldn’t. 

Hyoyeon, Nana, and Bora are in. The rest are out. 

They quickly change their clothes. Joohyun borrows a slinky red blouse, that coincidentally matched the team three jersey, from Hyoyeon. The material feels cool on her skin and a good portion of her back is exposed. She slips on a pair of tight jeans and converses. Thinking she might get cold, Joohyun lets her hair down; it was long to protect her back from most of the cold.

Seulgi is in a teensy mini skirt that clings lovingly to her thighs, with Bora dressing around the same lines. Hyoyeon dresses down in a denim jumper over a t-shirt.  

The four of them flew along the Highway, whizzing past snail-like RVs on their bikes in no time. Seulgi kept bumping against Nana’s back tire and making her scream. The placid bay was to their left and the hills were to their right, and the full moon made Joohyun’ skin glow in an almost unearthly way. 

They can hear the music throbbing from the bar before it comes into sight. “Wahooo!” Bora yells. They make a quick huddle at the door. 

“Listen,” Hyoyeon says seriously. “If Shiho’s there, we leave. I don’t think anyone else will care. We went a couple times at the end of last summer, and none of the coaches said anything.” 

Bora elects herself the one to check. She ducks in and comes right back out. “It’s packed, but I don’t see her. If she shows, we leave.” She looks at Seulgi dubiously. “Okay?” 

“Okay,” Seulgi agrees. 

“Whether or not Choi Minho is there.” 

“I said okay.” 

Joohyun hadn’t been to many clubs, but each time was the same. All eyes, at least all male eyes, followed her face. Maybe it was the combination of bar light and alcohol that made it extra pale and glowing.

They make for the dance floor. Seulgi is indifferent to drinking, but she loves to dance. She grabs Hyoyeon a