Normal
CompromiseLife would be simpler if it comes with an instruction manual.
It took Irene a while, but she has picked up plenty of social rules from reading books (and being reprimanded by other people). For example, people expect you to reply when they speak to you, but if you have nothing nice to say, smile and nod. It is rude to decline a hug or handshake, bear it. Eye contact is important but don’t overdo it.
Irene sees this a lot in movies. Two people who are attracted to each other, but not necessarily lovers, will have ual , the peak of physical intimacy. Or as Irene calls it, the NC-17 stage.
She doesn’t understand the point of having ual other than for making babies and she has no desire for it. Irene wants to stay away from the NC-17 stage. Forever.
That’s a problem.
Because Wendy, whom she loves dearly, has different needs and at some point, Wendy would want something more — that’s how a relationship is supposed to be, how you’re supposed to act when you’re in love.
Right?
—
“Why do people have ?”
Joy chokes on her coffee. She puts down her cup and stares at Irene who sits across her.
“Come again?”
“Why do people have ?”
That wakes her up.
“Is this about last night? Seulgi drank too much and I couldn’t find her key.” Joy grabs a tissue and wipes . “We didn’t do anything.”
“I know.” Irene spreads butter on her toast. “You never do it here.”
Irene takes a bite. Good, if Joy keeps quiet, maybe Irene will drop this subje—
“Why do people have ?”
Joy tears her gaze away from Irene. She needs caffeine.
“It depends on the person. Some do it because it feels good, some do it as a stress relief.”
Joy shouldn’t stir her coffee. Stirring makes her drink cool down faster, nothing’s more disgusting than lukewarm coffee. But her coffee’s too bitter, maybe she hasn’t dissolved all the sugar yet. That makes sense.
“Most of the time, you do it because you love your partner.”
“But isn’t a requirement for being in love, is it?”
“I guess.”
Stir.
“Wendy’s —”
“I’m not listening to your life, Irene.”
“I don’t have one.”
Joy stops stirring. She spills a little on the table but she ignores it and checks her sweater. It’s clean.
“Coffee first.” Joy takes a sip. It’s bitter but warm. “Then we’ll talk.”
“Okay.”
They have breakfast together in silence. Joy eats her toast with strawberry jam, taking small bites. Irene asks her weird questions all the time, but is a new topic and Joy would rather not dwell on it.
Still..
She wonders how Seulgi is doing.
Joy frowns at her empty cup. The coffee tasted disgusting and she regrets letting it cool down.
“Done?”
Joy sighs. Might as well get it over with.
“Talk.”
Irene grins.
“So the other day, I borrowed Wendy’s laptop because mine caught a virus. I’m surprised it managed this long, but now I have to save up to get it fixed. Wait, I think I have the warranty card. Anyway, I accidentally clicked on Wendy’s browser history..”
Joy pours her second cup of coffee. She knows where this is going.
“This funny little tab popped up and I found some really interesting articles. I never knew Wendy’s into..”
Oh God, why is this happening? Is it because she stole her colleague’s sample last week? But it was just a tiny amount. Less than 25 milligram. It had impurities anyway, that liar, and she asked nicely beforehand, but that wouldn’t —
“It’s spilling.”
“What?”
“Your coffee.”
Joy looks down. Her cup’s overflowing with coffee.
“Oh.”
“Is this a bad time?”
“Is there ever a good time for this conversation?” Joy wipes the table with a tissue. There’s a coffee stain on her sleeve, she’ll change before meeting Seulgi. “Sorry, let me have another cup then I’ll listen.”
“Too much coffee makes you pee.”
Joy drinks two more cups. Wendy and her browser history.
—
Wendy flips her pancake while humming to an English song playing on her phone (Irene recommended the song and it grew on Wendy). Her phone vibrates. A text message from Joy.
Park Joy is online
Next time, delete your browser history or use incognito mode, .
Browser history? Did Joy.. nah, she couldn’t have. Irene on the other hand —
Wendy types her reply.
Need laptop back where’s Irene
Her phone vibrates again. She reads Joy’s text.
Go yourself.
Park Joy is offline.
—
Irene cleans the kitchen table. It’s her turn to wash the dishes today but Joy had done hers before leaving (Irene insists on sticking to a schedule, Joy cleans them whenever she wants).
She reads a book on body language, highlights the important parts. Black and white is boring, colours improve your memory by 10%. Blue and purple are her favourite, they calm her.
Her parcel arrives. It’s a lego set of Tower Bridge: 4295 pieces, 102 cm long, 45 cm high, 26 cm wide. Gorgeous. The website says it will take 10 hours to complete. Irene spends the next 2 hours building it, she’s running out of space for her lego collection but she’ll deal with that later.
Wendy comes over. She kisses Irene on the cheek. There was a time when Wendy would ask for permission before holding Irene’s hand and fixing her hair, but Irene has grown to appreciate Wendy’s touch. It feels nice.
So Irene tries her best to reciprocate Wendy’s affectionate gestures. If Wendy’s happy, Irene’s happy too.
“Joy seemed cranky today, did something happen?”
“We had a talk.”
“About?”
“Your laptop.”
Wendy lies on a sofa and plays Irene’s ukulele (Irene can’t play it, she bought it at a yard sale because it looked cute).
“Why, did you have trouble with it?”
“Something like that.”
Irene makes a mental note to wash Joy’s sweater as an apology. Joy looked uncomfortable during their conversation this morning, and Irene is grateful Joy listened to her.
She’ll talk to Joy again some other time.
—
Wendy checks her browser history.
Everything’s gone.
—
“You weren’t drunk last night.”
Seulgi doesn’t deny but she doesn’t admit it either. She wraps her arms around Joy’s neck.
“You only drank three glasses.” Joy pushes Seulgi onto her bed. She always makes sure to cushion Seulgi’s head with a pillow. “You get drunk after the fifth.”
“I had a drink before we met up.”
“You hid your key in my jacket.”
“I misplaced it.”
Joy sneaks a hand under Seulgi’s shirt, soft lips trail along Seulgi’s collarbone.
“You stole my shirt again.”
“I couldn’t find mine.”
“You left it in the bath tub. With your underwear.”
“Did you like my gift?” Seulgi digs her nails into Joy’s back. “Don’t leave a mark, I have a date tonight.”
They’ve been through this enough times for Seulgi to know Joy will do the exact apposite. Seulgi doesn’t mind. She’s pleased actually — Joy leaves more marks when Seulgi tells her not to.
“Who?”
“Something-young.” Seulgi tilts her head, making her neck more accessible to Joy. “He’s nice.”
“What happened to the other guy?”
“Which one?”
Joy laughs. She sounds lovely, Joy should laugh more.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Joy s Seulgi’s shirt. “Most people look ugly when they cry.”
She saw Joy cry once, Joy was (is) beautiful too. Joy murmurs against her skin.
“Tell me if you want to stop.”
Seulgi bites Joy’s shoulder and moans. They have this exchange every time they and Seulgi’s answer is always the same.
“No one’s as good as you.”
They stop talking.
—
Seulgi hears her phone ring.
She ignores it.
“Don’t you have a date tonight?”
“Are you going home?”
Joy says nothing. She pulls Seulgi closer.
This is new. Joy usually leaves after they finish (which is rude but Seulgi lets it slide because that’s how one night stands are supposed to be). Then again, one night stands aren’t supposed to last this long, do they?
Seulgi leans against Joy’s chest and listens to her soft breathing. She likes cuddling but only with Joy.
“I don’t want to go either.”
Seulgi pulls her blanket over them. This isn’t the first time she’s cancelled her date, but Seulgi’s used to it and Joy is always worth it.
She can’t explain why she stays with Joy. On bad days, Joy makes her feel nine times better (during the ) but ten times worse (after the ). On good days.. well, she hasn’t had one for a while but this is pretty close.
—
From: Joy
I won’t be home tonight so don’t wait up.
“Something wrong?”
Irene shakes her head.
“Joy isn’t coming home tonight.”
Wendy’s face lights up.
“Can I sleep over?”
They’ve slept together before so this shouldn’t be any different, but this time, Irene feels uncomfortable and she doesn’t know why.
“Sure.”
—
Irene and Wendy watch a movie but Wendy’s eyes are on her instead of the screen. Odd, this is Wendy’s favourite movie (Irene bought a blu-ray as a gift but she liked it so much she ended up keeping it, Wendy had laughed when Irene told her this).
“You’re not even watching.” Irene fidgets in Wendy’s arms. “Do you want to do something else?”
Wendy smiles at her, face flushed. Irene likes Wendy’s eyes. Everyone says brown is a boring colour but Wendy makes it look extraordinary for some reason.
“I’ve been thinking, well, we’ve been together for a while now.”
“Six months.”
“Yeah, six months.” Wendy brings her face closer to Irene’s, “Don’t you think it’s about time we..”
Irene stiffens.
“Um, well, you know..”
This is bad. Really bad. Please don’t say it, please —
“.. do it?”
Irene isn’t prepared for this. How should she respond? She can’t say yes, that’s lying. She can’t say no either, that’ll hurt Wendy. Is there a word that’s a mix of yes and no? Maybe? God, that sounds even worse.
Come on, say something. Say..
Say yes.
She should say yes. Say ye—
“Do I have to?”
Judging by Wendy’s reaction, Irene must have said the wrong answer. Very very wrong.
—
Seulgi wants to skip dinner, but Joy cooks for her. Joy says Seulgi’s losing weight, Seulgi disagrees, she eats tons of pizza and fries. Joy looks cute when she frowns, and when she’s cooking.
“I don’t have an apron, bring your lab coat next time.”
“My lab coat’s contaminated, do you want me to expose you to toxic chemicals?”
“Get a new one.” Seulgi taps her finger against the table. “Scratch that, get two.”
“Why two?”
“One for home, one for work.”
Seulgi stops tapping.
Wait. That didn’t sound right. Did she just say ho—
“Okay.” Joy turns the stove on, still not facing Seulgi. “Mine’s too dirty anyway.”
This conversation is getting too.. intimate, so Seulgi keeps shut and waits until dinner is ready. They eat together. Seulgi prepares herself for food poisoning but Joy turns out to be a decent cook (Seulgi would’ve finished everything even if they taste like ).
Seulgi writes a short story in her notebook. She writes best when she’s drunk but Seulgi doesn’t feel like drinking. Joy reads scientific journals online, says they’re interesting but all Seulgi sees is mumbo jumbo text (she can’t even pronounce the title).
“It’s for my project, metal sensors.”
Joy draws a bunch of boxes and lines in Seulgi’s notebook. Seulgi grimaces. What is this, some combination of abstract art, alien language and chicken scratch?
“You bind a metal ion here, then see how much the fluorescence intensity changes, like flipping a switch.” Joy draws a light bulb. “The problem is I can’t turn it on and I don’t know why.”
“Nerd, you’re turning me off.”
Joy lifts Seulgi onto her desk. She nibbles on Seulgi’s neck and Seulgi shudders as Joy’s warm tongue caresses her skin, a cold hand runs up Seulgi’s thigh, up and up and up until she’s almost —
Joy stops. She grins at Seulgi, smug and obnoxious.
“I wasn’t listening, could you repeat that?”
Seulgi resists taking Joy’s hand. this y, attractive, condescending nerd.
“Do you want me to paint all over your face when you sleep? I haven’t drawn much lately, I could brush up my skills.”
“Tell me your story later.” Joy pulls away and lies on her bed. “Make it interesting.”
“I haven’t decided on the ending yet.”
“I’ll give you thirty minutes.”
“Demanding nerd.”
Twenty minutes later, Seulgi finishes writing her story. She sits with Joy at a table.
“It was a dark and stormy night. A writer and a nerd met in a bar. They ed. The end.”
Joy rolls her eyes and claps her hands.
“Bravo, as expected from a literary genius. I’ll get you a prize next week.”
“I have another one.”
Seulgi clears . She reminds herself not to sound robotic, storytelling is all about the atmosphere.
“A lonely ghost meets an imaginary friend.”
Joy leans closer.
“The ghost is happy to have someone to talk to.”
She props her cheek in her palm.
“But the imaginary friend is a stuck up ..”
Tilts her head and smiles.
Adorable.
“And then?”
Seulgi continues her story.
Today is a good day, she hopes tomorrow will be good too.
—
Dinner is awkward.
More awkward than last night when Irene found a woman in the bathroom. Half-. What was her name? Seulyeon? Seulhyun? Seul-girl. Let’s go with that. Joy’s probably with Seul-girl right now. Traitor.
“This tastes good.”
The spaghetti’s undercooked, and there’s too little sauce, but Irene doesn’t say this because sometimes, it’s necessary to tell a white lie to maintain a good relationship (she read it in a book). Besides, Wendy’s a great cook. Maybe she’s not feeling well tonight.
“Did you try a new recipe?”
Wendy doesn’t reply. She twirls the spaghetti around her fork over and over until the noodle slips, then repeats.
“I bought a new lego set, want to see it?”
Twirl.
“It’s a Tower Bridge.”
Slip.
“I’ll give it to you when I’m done.”
Repeat.
Irene knows when someone is upset. Lack of eye contact, sad facial expression, silent treatment. Irene sets down her fork, appetite gone.
“You’re mad at me.”
“I’m not.”
Wendy’s still twirling her spaghetti but at least she’s talking. That’s an improvement.
“Is it because I turned you down?”
“Did you have to say it like that?” Wendy’s fork screeches against the plate. Her hand’s shaking. Irene must have said the wrong thing again. “Why can’t you be —”
Normal? Like everyone else?
Wendy’s eyes widen and she covers . Irene doesn’t have to be a mindreader to finish Wendy’s sentence in her head. She’s heard it so many times since she was little. Parents, classmates, teachers.
She’s used to it.
But this time, it hurts (because Wendy is one of the two people in her life she has learned to love).
“It isn’t my choice.”
Wendy’s fork clangs against the table.
“I — I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to..”
“But you did it. Again.”
“Sorry.”
Wendy hangs her head.
“I’m sorry.”
It’s hard to fake a smile at Wendy’s genuine apology but it doesn’t matter because Wendy isn’t looking at her.
“It’s okay, I’m sorry too.” Irene eats her spaghetti. It’s cold. “You have a morning lecture tomorrow, do you want to sleep together?”
“No.” Wendy doesn’t look up from her plate. “I’ll take the couch.”
The spaghetti tastes bland but Irene eats all of it. She stays at the table until Wendy finishes her meal too.
“This tastes bad.” Wendy swallows the spaghetti. “How did you eat all that?”
“Because you cooked it.”
Wendy is quiet for a moment, then she shifts her gaze back to Irene.
“I’ll cook something better next time.”
—
Irene tosses and turns in her bed. She can’t sleep. Is Wendy still awake? Sleeping on a couch is uncomfortable, she’ll wake up with a sore back. That’s no good. Irene gets up and goes to the living room.
Wendy’s still awake. Irene knows how stubborn Wendy is, so she doesn’t bother asking Wendy to sleep on her bed together. Instead, she asks:
“Can I sleep with you?”
Irene expects a ‘no’ but hopes for a ‘yes.’
“If you want to.”
She takes that as a ‘yes.’
—
“Can I kiss you?”
Irene nods. She would’ve let Wendy kiss her even if she didn’t ask. Wendy kisses her gently, as if she is apologizing to Irene, so Irene returns the kiss, her way of saying ‘I forgive you.’
This is enough for Irene but it isn’t enough for Wendy.
So Irene deepens their kiss, hoping to feel any sort of rush, a spark of desire, craving, but..
Nothing.
There’s nothing. Not even a little bit of —
“Irene?”
Wendy pulls apart and gives her an understanding look.
“It’s okay.”
Liar.
—
Irene wonders what it’s like to be normal.
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