10.10.2007

I woke up early, cooked my own breakfast and walked to school, different from my usual routine. I always eat anything the chef makes because I wake up late, and Pierre drives me to school because I hate—really despise walking too much. It’s been two months since I started doing everything unusual, ever since Sandara told me to find the reasons why I’m changing—or why I’m turning to be my true self. I don’t even know what is true. Is it me before meeting her or after meeting her?

I didn’t go to Starbucks for my usual cup of coffee and didn’t answer my phone when girls call me to hook up. I don’t even know why. Maybe it’s because of the weather or because my mother forgot to kiss me on the cheek before I went out. Anything could be a reason but definitely not Sandara. I never had become so indifferent because of a girl, and I would hate it very much if she were the reason.

When I entered the school, I didn’t have to bribe my first class professor because I wasn’t late.  He was more mortified than I am when he saw me in the classroom before him. He shouldn’t have been so obvious—or had to point the fact out. Although my classmates were not the type to laugh at the school’s owner’s son. Some of them even were my seniors.

After my classes, I went to the court with Taeyang. Since the games are near, we have to undergo a more rigorous training. The coach, who’s also my sister’s husband, is a very competitive man—even more competitive than I am. Ever since he became the coach, we always won the championship, and he wants to stay it that way. And even though I’m competitive, I’ve always considered my mates health. He doesn’t.

As I drink vanilla yogurt while waiting for the coach, Taeyang answers, “You’re forcing yourself to come up with more illogical reasons. The more I see and hear it, I am sure that it’s Sandara Park.”

I heave a sigh. I didn’t even see her the whole day. There is no logical reason to be indifferent.

“I think you should see her.” Taeyang recommends and takes a sip from his own drink. “Your grumpiness today is probably because you never saw her.”

“I was not grumpy.” I scoff, shaking my head. Taeyang quickly justifies, “Then how do you explain when your fuse broke because Seungri accidentally misplaced your USB. You were never like that before. And when Top and Daesung mentioned the words sun and ttara hae, you were annoyed and simply said not to say those words.”

“I don’t know.” I sigh, giving up. “I don’t even know who I am right now, and you’re asking me why am I like this. If only I have the answers…just answers!”

“She is the answer. Just court her.” He says, exasperatedly. I throw the empty bottle into the farthest trashcan out of frustration, and my teammates who have seen it applauses. I say, “Anything is the reason but not her.”

“It’s just because you feel unfamiliar.” He counters. “But really, it isn’t unfamiliar. In fact, it’s the most familiar feeling. Yet you try hard to reject it because you’re afraid.”

I scoff. “Now you sound like her.”

“I’m betting that you’d be inseparable to her in a month.” Taeyang says. “I’ll give you ten thousand dollars to use for a first date if I win. If I lose, you give me ten thousand dollars.”

“It’s supposed to be the other way around.” I point out. He shakes his head. “No. It’s because you’d be much happier if you date her, and you’d be sad if you don’t.”

“You’re talking trash.” I start to laugh dryly. Taeyang’s words are really incomprehensible just like my actions the past week. And if he’s saying the truth, then it won’t set me free. It’d just bar me.

“Oh yeah.” He says, as if remembering something. “Your mother told me to get the flowers she ordered at this shop. It’s near to your place so you’ll be fine.”

He gives me a business card with the business name on front, lettered in a beautiful cursive. Lotus Flower.

“Crappy name.” I comment, flipping the business card. The address is written behind.

Taeyang agrees, “Like yours.”

Lotus Flower is a small flower shop near our subdivision, located between two high-rise buildings. Its roof is chapped from weathering and the outside walls were repainted maybe a few weeks ago. There are a lot of flowers displayed at the front, blooming beautifully. Despite our money, my mother still chose to buy from an unrated flower shop. And I don’t know why.

I sigh and enter the shop. It has that usual floral fragrance, that I could admit but it’s too shabby and too small. Even standing inside, I feel humongous even though I’m a couple of inches smaller than Top.

“Excuse me.” I call out, looking around. But I’m just greeted by either a half-bloom rose or a full-bloom tulip. And I don’t like how the carnations are looking at me.

“Oh sorry, sir. We’re a little busy behind.” I turn my head to where the voice was and saw a woman in her late fifties, her hair put into a small bun. She’s wearing a red apron with the shop’s name displayed at the front.  

I bow and immediately tell her my business, “Um, I’m going to take the flower orders for Mrs. Kwon.”

“Kwon?” She gracefully asks, opting to find my mother’s name.

“Yumi.” I answer. “Kwon Yumi.”

She nods while smiling at me, and turns to the door from behind her, which is now visible for me. “Dear, have you finished Mrs. Kwon’s order?”

I heard a lot of noises from the background and the door opens. “No, mom. Still three more to go.”

“S-Sandara?” I gasp, horrified, my eyes wide and my heart starts to beat too quickly. She turns to me and was equally shocked as I am. “Kwon Jiyong?”

“Oh, you two know each other?” Her mom asks, glad. “Then, I should leave the two of you to talk. I’ll go finish the order myself.”

“No, mom. I can—“ Sandara tries to say, but her mom cuts her off with a hand gesture. Then Mrs. Park makes her way inside the room behind, casually grabbing the rose in Sandara’s hand as she does.

“U-Um.” Sandara says, turning to me and rubbing her hands against her apron. “Do you want some ice cream? There’s a mart near here, about three blocks away.”

She is the answer. I remember Taeyang telling me, or even mocking me. There is no in between. Maybe I should try this.

“Sure.” I say, nodding. She gives me a smile, and I think my heart just made another leap inside of me. I’m not even sure. Is this love? Or I’m just having an aggravated hate towards Sandara that even my heart leaps in anger?

Sandara then nods at me as she walks her way, and I follow her outside. She didn’t even dare taking off her apron, or letting her hair down. She just walked outside as if it’s fine to walk with anyone noticing her wearing her part time clothes.

“You must be shocked.” Sandara starts, laughing and walking ahead of me. I catch up to her and make sure I’m not too far behind yet not too near. “To see me in such a place.”

I do. “You said you were accepted under a scholarship. I didn’t take too much into it.” I answer, half-honest.

She laughs. “I’m different from those poor girls in a Korean drama.” She momentarily takes a look at me to give me a smile. “My mother owns the shop. And I just passed the scholarship because of my grades. We can perfectly pay for my tuition fine.”

“So she’s a florist ever since.” I say, nodding. Sandara shakes her head. “No, she graduated and passed as an accountant.”

“Then why?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer. Maybe because we reached our destination or maybe because, “I’m not in that level, right? The friendly level?”

She didn’t answer.

We enter the mart and she walks toward the freezer. “Choose what you want. I’ll pay.” She says, opening the lid. Choosing from a variety of ice cream, she then chooses red bean fish ice cream.

“It’s almost winter. Why are you choosing ice cream?” I ask. “You’ll get cold.”

“It’s just fall.” She reasons out. I choose a double Popsicle.

We go towards the cashier to pay, and before she can grab money from her pockets, I quickly leave ten thousand won on the counter. The middle aged man operating the machine gives a smile and says, “You both look good together. I wish you happiness.”

Sandara bows. “Thanks.”

I turn to give her my angry look, but she quickly dismisses it. The middle aged man gives me the change and Sandara walks over to one of the free bar seats. I sit beside her.

“That ahjussi has a mental disease. He hurts himself when he’s wrong. It resulted from a trauma when he was a kid, when his parents beat him whenever he’s wrong.” She says, as soon as I sit down. “And often times, non-residents don’t know. Other vendors near the area would help him because it doesn’t end until he actually dies.”

“And I’m sorry.” She talks again, taking a bite from her ice cream. I didn’t know she had already opened it. “I don’t have any friends so I don’t know what to say whenever people ask me about personal stuff.”

I open my ice cream. “It’s fine. I can—“

“My mom raised us alone. So she had to leave her job as an accountant and continue my grandmother’s shop because it has much higher pay.” Sandara starts to speak, and when I turn to see her, she’s all red on the face. She must be embarrassed.

And I find it, surprisingly cute.

Dang it, Youngbae. I really hate that you know me well.

She eats her ice cream and my mouth starts to gape as I find her nape surprisingly—again!—inviting. And I rarely do find napes inviting. Damn it, Youngbae!

Maybe whenever people point out the obvious, you start to see it yourself.

“Your shop looks shabby.” I comment. Please, let it be not her!

“It’s closing. Your mother’s the only customer left. And she’s too loyal that she purposely buys a huge amount of flowers.”

My chest contracts. It is her. I feel so….different yet the same.

“Mom’s probably done with the flowers. Let’s go back.” She urges, standing up and I follow her again.

We walk back to the shop, silently. Coming into terms with my feelings, I know it’s hard. But all I know now is that I love seeing her, being with her or even in the prospect of hearing just her name.

We stop in front of the shop and just in time, her mother comes out hurriedly, holding in her hands 164 flowers, grouped by a dozen by type. Sandara quickly comes to help her, and hurriedly, I did too. We divide it by 6:4, with me holding the most.

I open the trunk of my car and we place the flowers inside, carefully, trying not to ruin anything. “We had to cut off the horns and make everything exactly 12 inches in length. Your mother specifically said that everything should be perfectly twelve. So the petals are twelve.”

She giggles, or shakes. Then breathes out.  Steam comes out from . “Whoa, I shouldn’t have eaten ice cream. I feel cold.”

Just my luck, then. I take off my coat and wrap it around her. Sandara looks up at me as I secure the coat in her shoulders, and because of her height, it looks long. “Whoa, you’re not acting like yourself.”

I look at her and say, “You too. You have something on your lips. Red bean and vanilla ice cream.”

Her eyebrows suddenly crunches in disbelief and I find it—sigh—cute. I really hate and the same time, love love. “I don’t eat messily though.” She says, about to take it off using her fingers but I block it out.

“I’ll take it out.” I say, pulling her closer using the collar of my coat and I kiss her perfectly on the lips. I can’t see her reaction because I subconsciously closed my eyes.

And it’s a secret that there’s nothing on her lips. I just wanted a reason to kiss her.