Picnic [J]

Written: --

Last updated: 03/12-16

Posted: 03/12-16

Word count: 2,6k

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“Why are we doing this so early?” Junhui yawns uncharacteristically, usually one with energy and concentration. He zips his hoodie up and prays for the breeze to stop. It’s not cold out yet, just a little chilly, but his skin prickles nonetheless.

“Mingyu has taekwondo practice at lunch. And I have to babysit my sister this afternoon,” Wonwoo replies in his monotonous voice. He too seems less than thrilled at the situation, but walks next to Mingyu despite his indifference. Nothing new there.

Junhui sighs, tightening his grip on the blanket in his arms.

He was promised food. That’s the only reason why he’s here.

Well that, and because he can’t say no to a picnic. It’s a tradition between the three, and no matter how third wheeled he feels each time, it’s not like he can say no.

In the basket Wonwoo holds, there’s supposedly two different curries, three helpings of kimbap and an infinity of flavoured rice cooked especially for them by non other than Wonwoo’s mother. She’s a goddess in the kitchen. Sometimes Junhui wonders if he likes Wonwoo or his mother the most.

Mingyu got the drinks this year, though Junhui doesn’t really care what he decided on. He’ll probably just end up drinking water like usual, as the sugar-phobe he is.

They’re only one block away from the park, and Junhui couldn’t be more happy. His tired limbs weren’t ready to leave his cocoon of sheets this morning, and sleep is still tugging at his eyelids. Maybe he can rest on the blanket later. The other two won’t miss him.

The sun is orange and low in the sky, contributing to the fiery atmosphere. The leaves are still bushy and very much alive, an array of browns, reds and yellows giving that familiar early autumn look to the town. In only a couple of days the leaves will start to fall, the nights will get darker and longer, and it will be impossible to leave the house without a jacket. Junhui likes this time of year. Especially these last days before November. It’s like the world is holding onto its last breath, ready to give into the darkness any second.

He remembers the first autumn break picnic they had, five years ago. In middle school. Junhui had just arrived in the US early that year, English rusty and social skills lower than ever. He was so young back then.

That Junhui only worried about making friends, and fitting in. He learned that that wasn’t going to happen soon enough.

He doesn’t has time for that now. So busy with school, preparing for the end of the year. These years helped him develop his introverted and serious self. The one who works hard in school and only hangs out with the other weird Asian kids.

“Looks like someone’s moving in,” Mingyu mumbles, awaking Junhui from his borderline sleep-walking.  

He looks to his left, and indeed. Someone is.

Several vans are parked next to the sidewalk opposite to them. A woman and a man, probably her husband, are carrying a couch across the lawn.

It’s the large red house that’s been empty forever. Junhui is kinda happy someone finally bought it. It looked so empty and sad every time he passed it (the grocery store is just a couple of minutes away), if that’s even possible for a house. He just feels sorry for the couple. The dog next door barks way into the early morning. The owners never do anything about it, and the other neighbours are just kind of used to it by now.

They cross the road, Mingyu and Wonwoo talking about something taekwondo related. More like Mingyu babbling and Wonwoo pretending to listed, but whatever. That’s their way of conversation.

The park is empty when they arrive, as expected. The grass is still damp in morning dew but the three don’t mind, rolling out the blanket and settling down. Wonwoo and Mingyu begin unpacking the food, occasionally wow-ing when they find surprises, like extra helpings of kimchi or bags of prawn ships.

Wonwoo and Mingyu are Korean. They have been friends since like, age -2. With close family and connections back home they’re inevitably close. Junhui has never seen them fight.   

He watches them now, Mingyu laughing at his own joke and Wonwoo making a visible effort not to smile back, because the joke was awful. There’s always so much emotion in their eyes when they’re around each other. Emotions Junhui has never seen before and can’t explain. They’ll smile, frown, cry, laugh. But there’s always that emotion there. Deep in their cores, too deep and too vast for Junhui to comprehend by just looking.

Groggily rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, he asks if they can start eating soon. His mother wasn’t awake earlier, so Junhui left the house without breakfast. A hollow hunger settles in his gut, and his eyes narrow at the rice containers.

They eat greedily, Mingyu talking with his mouth open and Junhui shooting disgusted glares in his direction. At one point the topic of school comes up. Wonwoo frowns around a bite of meat. He’s stressed about school. Well, everyone is, especially their fellow 16 year olds, but with him it’s worse.

Wonwoo is hard on himself. He’s a perfectionist, a silent one, and would probably kill himself if he ever scores anything lower than an A. Seriously.

“We’re back tomorrow already,” Junhui sighs, packing on some more rice onto his plate. He pours the remaining gravy from one of the curries onto the white bedd.

“Want some coconut water?” Mingyu successfully changes subject, after noticing Wonwoo’s sudden tense shoulders. Junhui nods, completely forgetting how much added sugar usually hides in those drinks. “Crap, I forgot bottle openers…”

“Grocery store?” Junhui suggests, thirsty.

Mingyu glances towards the store, which is visible from across the street next to the park. He sighs, getting up and dusting off his pants, even if they aren’t dirty.

“I’m only doing this because our picnics are sacred,” he mumbles before skipping off.

“Not excited about school?” Junhui asks while him and Wonwoo begin packing up the empty food containers.

“Hell no,” Wonwoo scoffs.

They like talking together. Alone. Junhui has always been more Wonwoo’s friend anyways, and whenever Mingyu is around the two of them are kinda… occupied. Of course they’d never say that out loud. It’s just a telepathic thing. They get along well. They understand each other. This is why Junhui doesn’t ask any further questions. He knows Wonwoo well enough to not go down that rabbit hole.

Mingyu comes back some time later, with a bottle opener and a packet of bacon flavored popcorn. Him and Wonwoo start throwing them into each other’s mouths, or attempting to, and Junhui takes it as his sign to zone out.

He takes a sip of his sickly sweet drink, before sinking to lie down. Leaves poke into his neck and back through the blanket. The sky is a faded blue now, the sun a small white hole in the canvas, making Junhui squint. Wonwoo and Mingyu’s voices slowly ebb out.

The end of the year is soon.

The end of his last year as an unpaired little child.

He has to prepare, stress his hair out, before Christmas break.

A sour feeling erupts in his chest.

The clouds soar above him, white and fluffy, and he can’t bare to look at them anymore. His eyes slide shut, and all he can hear is his heartbeat. The never ending pulse, desperately keeping him alive. He wonders if he’ll feel the same in January. If his heartbeat will sound the same. If the world will look the same through his eyes. The eyes that will change.

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He doesn't dress up for school, normally. Just in whatever's comfortable. But on the first day his mother insists, and Junhui can't say no. Even if they only were away for 48 hours.

It's far from the stiff and uncomfortable school uniform he wore as a child in China, but not really the usual attire either. A black button down shirt and a pair of dark jeans, and a brown jacket with fur details on the hood. He doesn't complain when his mother dresses him. She has a nice fashion sense.

He stuffs his backpack with the homework he completed last night, whilst crunching on an unripe banana.

School has its way of eating into him with stress. It’s getting worse now. This year it’s been horrible. Especially since he feels like he’s not doing well enough.

He has the grades to survive. He’ll get the grades to survive.

But it’s not only that, and he knows it. People do all sorts of things to prepare. Expand their social circles, get themselves into clubs that’ll support them through the coming year, spend time with their family while they can.

Junhui hasn’t even spoken to his mother about it.

But he doesn’t really have to. They both know. Everyone knows.

He leaves the house, closing the front door as quietly as possible. The way is so familiar now that he doesn’t have to think about it. He can sink into thoughts and daydreams while his body walks on its own accord. Past the park, past the grocery store, across the road, up the hill.

English is his first subject. Neither Mingyu or Wonwoo is in that class. They cuddle through science class while he suffers through the least creative creative writing class Junhui’s ever had the displeasure of attending.

Junhui is 99% sure he’s the best student. But the teacher doesn’t like him. Just that annoying girl Sandra McKenzie. She’s one of those students who buys the teachers apples and does whatever they ask. For their last assignment they did she wrote about a girl and her struggles in school, that get immediately solved when her favorite teacher helps her.

The whole class had to sit there and listen when the teacher read it out loud, occasionally stopping to wipe a tear or to praise a particularly well constructed sentence.

He passes the gate, watching the groups of students greeting each other excitedly. With a quickened pace he floats across the yard, entering the school right as the bell rings.

The corridors are rather empty, people usually coming in earlier after breaks to catch up with their friends. Junhui enters the English classroom just in time. The only seat available is one at the back, which Junhui doesn’t really mind.

A strong stench of perfume, sweat and morning breath welcomes him as he takes his seat. He lets out a long breath, pulling out his books and widening his eyes. As if he’ll fall asleep if he doesn’t.

An hour and thirty minutes later, the lesson is already over. The repetitiveness of school can be agonizing, but Junhui finds it a little comforting. Nothing interesting ever happens to him, and therefore nothing bad does. He just works hard. And harder.

His fingers are a little sore from notetaking. And the day has only just started.   

By the time lunch rolls around the corner, he’s exhausted. Not because writing and reading and listening is tiring, but because everything is so important. This will be on the test, that will be graded, this is vital for a passing grade, you need this if you wanna be well prepared. Junhui’s emotionally drained.

Luckily, he has the Corridor Squad. Well, that’s what Mingyu calls them. Both Junhui and Wonwoo think the name is ridiculous, but they still use it. They just don’t have anything better, that’s all.

Five years ago, when Junhui was new, he stumbled across the Korean pair on the way to lunch. He didn’t pay them any mind as they looked at him with curious eyes. They were seated on a bench, the ones they have here and there in the locker halls, eating from each other’s lunch boxes. He shook off the strange feeling of familiarity and went ahead. Upon reaching the cafeteria and realizing, the hard way, that he wasn’t gonna get a seat, he went back. Without a word he sat down on the bench, as far away from the other boys as possible, silently eating his dumplings.

They eyed his food, looked him up and down, and stayed quiet too.

Days went by, just like that one. Junhui had PE with them, and that was it.

They’d sit on the bench, awkwardly eating their food without talking.

Mingyu was the one to finally break the silence, of course. But as time passed, Junhui found himself more comfortable with Wonwoo.

They weren’t really friends. Just people who sat together at lunch and saw each other in class every now and then.

To this day, they’re the only acquaintances Junhui has made in the US.

Today, Mingyu and Wonwoo are early. Maths must have finished before the bell, as it does every now and then. They’re not eating yet, lunch boxes placed in a haphazard pile on the floor. They’re whispering about something, a bright smile exposing Mingyu’s pointed canines. Wonwoo’s expression is warm, relaxed. Any person not familiar with him would probably not notice. But that’s the thing about Wonwoo.

When you get to know him, you get to know his even-on-the-outside-but-all-over-the-place-on-the-inside temper.    

Junhui clears his throat when he reaches them, evoking a groan from Mingyu.

“Sorry for being a ,” Junhui mumbles while getting his lunch box out from his bag.

“How’s school so far?” Mingyu wonders, reaching for his own food.    

Junhui just deadpans back.

They tuck into their food, tasting each other’s and discussing who’s is the best today. Of course, Wonwoo wins.

But Junhui, hungry as he is, continues inhaling his leftover fried rice, pouring way too much soy onto the sad meal. He didn’t even bother to microwave it, too desperate for nutrition (that he isn’t getting anyways).

“You’re not going in there are you?”

It’s Mingyu.

Junhui looks up, shooting the boy a confused look.

Wonwoo gestures in front of them, to where Mingyu had directed the question.

Junhui looks there too. His eyes find a wide eyed boy he’s never seen before. He’s slim and almost fragile looking. A bewildered and mildly terrified expression gives him away almost immediately. He’s new.

Mingyu is pointing towards the cafeteria. It’s then that Junhui notices the lunchbox in the boy’s hands.  

Mingyu is right. He better not eat in the cafeteria, where literally no one eats food from home.

The boy’s lips open and close a few times, as if he’s trying to say something but nothing comes out.

He looks Chinese.

His hair is curly and brown, but it’s most likely not natural.

Is this what Junhui looked liked when he was new?

Probably.

And then it all makes sense.

The dots connect in front of him.

“Eat with us,” he suggest in Chinese.

The shocked expression on the boy’s face is priceless. Something twists inside Junhui at the sight, that same familiar feeling he got when he met Mingyu and Wonwoo for the first time.

The situation is far too familiar. Almost identical, in fact.

And then he blurts another phrase out without thinking, something along the lines of “the other kids will eat you up if you go in like that”, and the boy springs into action.

It’s awkward, deja vu-ish, and uncomfortable on Junhui’s part, but something about watching the boy eat his food as if it’s the first meal he’s had in weeks, is nice.

He recognises the feeling.

Being starved. Not hungry for food, but for anything that resembles home.

*****

a/n

• Note: every dialogue in italic is in chinese
• Jun chapters are written by wawallama
• Hao chapters are written by andtherewego
• This is awful
• We are sorry for this
• Enjoy :-)