Jaemin shippers, you guise will be cheering for joy at the end of this chapter. Lolol.

Hyomin's POV.

"Here you go," Mum said as she hand Joon another bottle of soju.

"Uh ... no thanks, Mrs Park." He shook his head. "I'm driving." He glanced at Dad. "I can only drink two, maximum."

Dad nodded his approval as Mum handed him the soju instead and smiled at Joon.

"So teenagers aren't all drinking and looting any chance they get," she said as she sat down, taking the lid off the casserole. "Good to know."

"Eomma. Nobody goes looting." I rolled my eyes. I realised then, i didn't inherit her looks only. I inherited her social skills too, apparently. While Joon had been washing his hands before lunch, I'd warned her not to question him about the time he'd gone missing. I just hoped she wasn't going to let her ciriosity take over her.

I glanced at Joon, hoping she wasn't totally putting him off. Thank god I saw him smiling.

"Gwenchanayo. I've seen my fair share of wasters ...." He paused. "Back in Japan, there were hundreds of them, drinking till they passed out." He held out his plate as Mum heaped a huge spoonful of beef in white wine on to it. "I was always to dull to join in."

"Dull?" I said, catching his eye. "Why is it so hard to believe that?"

Joon wrinkled his nose. "It's true. I'm not one of those enigmatic types. I never sat in my bedroom writing poetry and smoking . Ask my mum. She was practically begging me to rebel. Just so I could be like the other kids in the neighbourhood."

I felt Mum's eyes on me but I didn't meet them. Soon the table fell quiet as she continued dishing out food.

"I must admit," Mum said after finishing serving out all the food. "I was secretly hoping you'd lead Hyomin astray. I'd like to see her go a bit wild. She needs to get out more."

"What?" I stared hard at her. Great PR job, Mum. I turned to Joon. "Feel free to run like hell. It's not going to get any better than this."

Joon shook his head and speared a bean with his fork. "I have no intention of going anywhere," he said confidently. "Sorry to disappoint you."

I chewed my food and smiled at the same time, unable to look at Mum. She generally had a nose like a sniffer dog when it came to bull, but she seemed to be buying Saint Joon, because she beamed at him as he slurped down his food.

"What a sensible boy. Your mother clearly did a good job bringing you up."

I glanced wearily at Joon, but his face was impassive.

"She's a good person," he said evenly.

He was definitely ticking all the boxes. Pity my mother, she couldn't keep shut.

"She must miss you," Mum went on, ignoring my eye signals. "You're so far away."

Joon shrugged and forked up beef and potato. "I guess," he said uncomfortably.

"Who is your fath--" Mum began, but I cleared my throat loudly, enough to cut her off. This was turning into an interrogation.

"Joon's going to teach me to drive," I announced quickly. "Isn't that great?"

Mum raised an eyebrow. "That is great, Hyomin. Just make sure no one sees a sixteen-year-old in possession of a vehicle. Particularly not the local constabulary." She picked up her wine glass and took a sip. "They're dying to arrest someone around here."

"Really." Joon swallowed a mouthful of food. "I bet they're eyeing on me already." He glanced at me and gave a wink. "The stranger in town."

"Well, I'll put them straight." said Mum. "It'll be my pleasure. A clean-living, responsible boy will really wind them up."

Dad and I exchanged a smile. Mum's hatred of authority was legendary in our family. Ironic, considering she was a model citizen in so many ways.

"Your mother's a dark horse, you know." Dad had told me, more than once. "She wasn't always so sensible."

I could never really get my head around My Mother the Anarchist, but today the subject was proving a handy diversion because Joon had relaxed again. So relaxed in fact that he missed his mouth with his fork and gravy splashed clumsily off his chin.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," he said as he pushed back his chair. "Clumsy me."

Mum was already on her feet. "Stay there, I'll get you another napkin." she said as she dashed into the kitchen.

I grinned at Joon as he wiped his beautiful chin.

"Thank God for that," I said. "I was beginning to think you weren't human."

Joon flashed me a look of what I took as confusion.

"Who's not human?" Mum had appeared next to him, holding out a fresh napkin.

"No one, Eomma. It was a joke."

"A joke, yes of course." Her eyes brightened slightly, but her smile looked a little forced. I swallowed, beginning to feel nervous myself, until Joon cut the atmosphere.

"I'd love some more, if there's any going?" He gestured at the cassarole dish. "It's delicious, Mrs Park."

"Call me Minyoung. Mrs Park makes me feel so old." said Mum, snapping back to normal.

Joon smiled, tilting his head back to look up at her. Just for a split second, I saw her eyes close and then open quickly. She put one hand on the table.

"Eomma? Gwenchana?"

"I'm fine. I think I moved too fast out of the kitchen." She rubbed at her forehead. "It gets so hot in there with the oven on." She smiled, ignoring Dad's anxious expression and started moving around the table to her seat.

"One spoonful enough?" she asked Joon brightly. "How about another potato?"

"Great, thank you." As he held out his plate, I wasn't sure whether I was imagining the faint pulse in his cheek. But his eyes darted across to me at last and the look he gave me was warm, melting again, and I relaxed. But there was a strange awkward silence, interrupted by only the scrape of Joon's cultery on his plate. I tried to catch my mother's eye, but seemed intent on looking straight ahead of her as she ate. Dad noticed my unease and winked at me, putting his knife and fork together.

"That was delicious, Minyoung," he said. He looked over at Joon. "Good to see a healthy appetite around here. Hyomin and her sister aren't big eaters."

"Hope that's not a diet you're on." Joon nudged my elbow. "You're perfect."

Flames shot up my neck again. I shrugged.

"We do eat." I flicked a glance at my father. "He's exaggerating."

"I was just the same at her age, Jisu," said my mother, uncharacteristically coming to my defence. "There was a time, when I was sixteen, that my appetite just vanished." She looked thoughtfully at me as I willed the conversation to take a new turn. "I was in love at that time."

I raised an eyebrow. "You were?"

Mum nodded absently, probably on her way down memory lane. Dad took over.

"It wasn't with me, unfortunately." He told Joon.

Joon took a sip of water. "Must have been quite a guy. I don't think anyone or anything could put me off my food." He knocked my leg under the table. "Not even the girl I love."

I held my breath. Was it possible for a guy like him to love me?

"Quite right too," Mum said vaguely. "Never lose your head over love."

Joon's eyes lowered. "No," he said quietly, but his hand took mine and he gripped it for a second. I squeezed it back, my legs turning to jelly again.

Mum had finally returned from wherever she was. "Anyway, it was a long time ago. I was young and ... silly at that time." She leaned over to Dad and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "And I have my wonderful Jisu."

I groaned and rolled my eyes at Joon. "I'm really sorry. She's not normally like this." 

Joon''s jaw seemed to tighten a little, making me feel bad. He must have been thinking about his own parents. I stood up.

"I'll clear the plates," I said quickly. "That was really good, Eomma. Thanks."

"No problem," she waved her napkin dismissively. "A pleasure in fact." She and my dad smiled at each other.

"You want a hand?" Joon pushed his char back, but i shook my head.

"You're the guest." I smiled. "Talk to Mum."

"You have an interesting scar, Joon. How did you get it?" My mother said to Joon.

Joon looked blankly at her.

"The scar, on your neck?" Mum said, pouring herself another glass of wine.

Joon opened his mouth, hesitating before he touched the spot on his throat with his finger. "This? I got it when I was working on the boats in Japan. Some hot metal sparks bounced off my neck." He rubbed at it gently. "Only a metal disc left a little imprint."

"Oh God," my mother said, though her tone was almost bouncy in contrast to a few minutes before. "Must have hurt."

Joon nodded. "Just a bit."

"Poor you," I said, touching his arm. "Will it be there forever?"

"Forever and ever," he said mockingly, but his eyes were soft.

"Got and get the cheesecake, Hyomin," Mum said, spoiling the moment. "It's in the fridge. Second shelf."

Joon winked at me quickly as I moved to do my bidding.

"Cheesecake's my favorite. You're a great cook, Minyoung."

"Rubbish." I saw her smile, definitely pleased. "You'd soon get sick of my repertoire." She tapped my arm as I walked through the kitchen. "Ask Hyomin."

"I hope I get the chance to get sick of it," Joon said daringly and I glanced back at her. But her lips were turned up, smiling.

After lunch, Joon insisted on helping Mum with the dishes and Dad went to pick up Hwayoung from Soyeon's house. I put stuff away in a kind of daze. In the last three hours, I'd visited a world inhabited by werewolves and vampired and introduced my boyfriend to my parents. Who said my life was dull and uneventful? Things can change in a heartbeat. I looked out of the window at the tops of the trees and in my head I remembered the sound of rushing water, and sad, brown eyes, and that delicate, kind boy who'd showed me that there truly is a whole world out there waiting to be explored. A sudden feeling of melancholy came over me as I struggled to see how that boy could possibly fit into my life.

"I'm going to watch TV," said Mum as she dryed her hands on a tea towel. "You two can amuse yourselves." She whistled for Bobby, picked up a newspaper from the counter and wandered through the living room.

Joon rubbed his eyes and then stretched lazily. When he dropped his arms, his eyes found mine and he moved closer to me.

"So how bout I teach you to drive?"

Narrator's POV.

Joon's car was a beat-up old Saab. He said his dad had loaned him for the duration of his stay. It seemed tinny and ... well, tiny, compared to Hyomin's dad's truck. It was also freezing. She wrapped her arms round herself in the front seat.

"Sorry bout the lack of heating," said Joon as he turned the key to start the engine. "And it's not the most reliable of motors." He checked in the wing mirror and they began reversing out down the track. "Consider this a baptism of fire."

She glanced at him. "Sorry bout my mum's ... over-sharing today. She's not used to visitors."

Joon's face was impassive. "She's nice." he said.

They'd come to the bottom of the track and he turned the car round in the right direction, brushing her leg with his hand as he changed gear. "And I'm not used to visiting."

Hyomin relaxed and stuck her hands between her legs, thinking. "I'm trying to picture your dad? I recognise the name but ...."

Joon didn't look at her. He concentrated on the winding mountain road. "Jung Jihoon. He lives just the other side of Jongamno with my stepmother. She has a daughter. Your age ... i think. Kim Hyuna?"

Hyomin froze. Of course, Hyuna's mum had kept her name. She supposed she'd assumed that Hyuna's dad, Jung Jihoon, was her real dad. She'd never said otherwise. The one time Hyomin'd seen him was two years before with her mum after another bullying session from Hyuna. Hyomin's mum had marched round to his house, ready for war and he'd played the whole thing down. Hyomin's mouth went dry.

"Jung Jihoon," She turned to Joon but he didn't respond, except to change gear. "is Hyuna's father?"

"Hyuna, yeah." His tone was light and then he glanced quickly at her. "My stepsister's called Hyuna."

"Stop the car, please." She whispered. She put her hand out to the dashboard and the glove compartment door fell open. Joon, not hearing her, reached across and firmly shut it.

"Old car," he said, rolling his eyes and this time smiling at her. But Hyomin's expression was defensive. Her good mood had evaporated.

"Hyomin," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Did you say something?"

"Hyuna's the who made my life hell at school," Hyomin said, unable to keep the bleating tone out of her voice. "She's ... she's horrible." She stared hard at him as his face took on another look. Realisation.

"Oh God." He slowed down to a snail's pace. "I had no idea."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her Dad in his brand new truck with Hwayoung waving manically in the front seat. Joon lifted a hand limply in greeting. They both grinned at them as they drove past. Hyomin could hardly bring herself to smile. She'd known he was too good to be true.

"Let me out."

How to describe how she felt at that moment? Flat, disappointed. And angry all over again.

"Hyomin ..." Joon pulled up to the verge and stopped the engine. "I can't believe Hyuna ...?" He shook his head. "She seems a nice kid."

"Ha." She stared ahead of her and then closed her eyes. "A nice kid she is not."

She felt him shift beside her, saw out of the corner of her eye his hand creeping over her's. She jerked her arm away before he could touch it.

"Hey," his voice was gentle. "I am not my sister."

Hyoming swung her eyes to look at him. The curve of his cheekbone, the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes, his soft, full lips, the glow of his perfectly fair skin against his denim shirt.

No, much much prettier than his sister.

But the thought of him, laughing at her with Hyuna. Living in the same house as that poisonous ... Hyomin was shivering again, but not from the cold. All the happiness draining out of her. She felt shrivelled up and small.

"Does she know?" She asked quietly.

"About you?" He breathed out, his finger tapping the steering wheel nervously. "She knows I've met a girl."

"Does she know my name?"

"No." He pressed his lips together and then turned slowly, cautiously in her direction. "Not yet."

"I don't want her to know we ... we were dating." She swallowed, realising that Joon and her were now past tense. At least. She couldn't see a future.

She grasped the door handle and pressed down to open it.

"Please, Hyomin. Don't go." Joon turned her towards him, his beautiful face pleading. It almost melted her, but Hyuna had spoiled it all. And she wasn't even here.

"I want to go home." She repeated coldly.

He said nothing and she climbed out of his car, slamming the door. It had started raining, large drops of cold water, and she hugged herself as she walked quickly back to the house.

Hyomin's mum was feeding the dog when she appeared in the kitchen, wet through. Miserable.

"That was quick," she said as she straightened up. Her eyes look took in Hyomin's face. "Sweetheart? What happened?"

"Nothing." Her voice was flat. "I'm going upstairs."

She moved towards Hyomin. "Did he ... What did he do?" She reached out her hand.

"He didn't do anything ... I don't want to talk about it."

"But ---"

"Please." Hyomin walked past her and into the hall. As she reached the stairs, Hwayoung skittered out from the living room.

"I missed him," she wailed, tugging at her sister's hand."I missed Joon!" She swung on her arm, before she realised Hyomin was not smiling.

"Unnie." She stopped. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing, Youngie." She her hair.

Everything's wrong, she thought.

And then she moved past Hwayoung and began climbing the stairs to her room. She knew Hwayoung was looking up at her, anxious, but she couldn't comfort her. It was all she could do to comfort herself.

Hyomin's POV

Later, lying on my bed, I heard the phone downstairs ring and my mother called up to me, but I turned out my light and ignored her.

I pressed my face against my pillow and longed for a friend. Someone I could trust. I'd begun to think that friend could be Joon, but the only person I could see in my mind right then was a tall, dark, delicate boy with the kindest eyes I'd ever seen.

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Anyone picked up the clue during the dinner scene? :B