I KNOW YOU WANT NO PART OF THIS, BUT I NEED A PUNCHBOWL.

This was the third text I had gotten from Sehun, and it was only 9:00 a.m. So much for my bonus, unexpected non-working Saturday. I picked up my coffee, taking a sip, and reminded myself that Gayeon and I had an entire day planned at the pool together. It wouldn't be relaxing - nothing was with Jae, Kai, Katleen, and Yuri, as they would be - but at least I'd be off the clock. If I turned off my phone.

NOBODY LIKES PUNCH, I texted back. DO PITCHERS OF SOMETHING INSTEAD. LESSY MESSY/GERMY.

In response, he sent me thumbs-up, the same response I'd gotten when called earlier to advise on one of those plastic aisles you roll out for everyone to proceed down (they stay put and look awful) and food appetizers opinions. It was clear that in the last 14 hours or so this unplanned, easy backyard wedding had morphed into something more complicated. And who needed that?

Not me, I thought as I found my bathing suit and put it on, then tied my hair up in a ponytail. I was looking for the sunscreen when my phone rang. I sighed, not in the mood for more questions, but then I saw it was Eomma.

"Hey," I answered, "how's life in the tropics?"

"Wonderful," she replied. I blinked, surprised, then looked at the screen again, making sure it was her I was talking to. "It's just so relaxing and gorgeous. I should've done this years ago."

This time, I looked at the clock. With the small time difference, it was just after ten, which meant it's almost noon for them, and knowing Wooyoung might've dragged her to drink. "Wow," I said. "I have to say I'm surprised, with how much you resisted."

"Oh, that," she said, batting away days of complaints and stress. "Classic workholeic behavior. I'm textbook, according to Minhyuk."

Okay, she seemed drunk. "Do you mean workaholic? And who's Minhyuk?"

"Oh, sorry." She laughed, the sound surprisingly . . . light and giggle. Which would never associated with Eomma. "Kang Minyuk. He's a former CEO and author we met on the plane. Wrote an entire book about the overworked business. Workholes. Like s, but worse."

"Riiight," I said. "So you know this guy now?"

Another light laugh. "Well, we ended up chatting the entire flight, and then he invited us to dinner at this place. He keeps a second home here, to recharge and get away from the O Nothing Olympics."

"What?"

"It's another one of his terms in his book. The competition we're all in daily, so fiercely, to climb ahead of each other. And what's the prize? Nothing."

Now I was getting worried. "Is Wooyoung around?"

"Sure. He's right here."

Something muffled sounded in my ear. Then Wooyoung came on, sounding perfectly normal. Thank goodness. "Hey, Suzy. Everything okay back home?"

"Yeaah," I said slowly. "How it's going there?"

"Oh, great," he replied. "I mean, everyone thinks I'm a employee. But at least the tips are good."

They both laughed at this. Normally, I would've too. But I was distracted. "Eomma sounds kind of crazy."

He laughed. "I know, right? She's a smitten kitten. You should see her when she's actually with this guy. It's like the cartoons, hearts in her eyes."

"Are you serious?"

"Totally." I heard Eomma say something, to which he replied, "Oh, please, it's totally true and you know it. If I didn't love you so much I'd be jealous to the point of depression. Also, all the drinks are included."

More laughter. Meanwhile, I still couldn't find the sunscreen.

"Hold on," I said to Wooyoung. "Eomma actually likes this guy?"

"I know, it's insane. They only just met! But he's taking her out on his boat today for lunch."

"But she hates the water."

"Apparently it's different here? Or she is." He laughed. "Anyway, don't worry. We spent half of last night researching him on the Internet and he's legit. Not my type, of course. But we can't all get so lucky in first class."

"We're just friends," I heard Eomma call out, which was reassuring. Until she added, "For now, anyway."

My phone beeped again: it was Gayeon. "I need to go," I said. "Call me later?"

"Will do," Wooyoung said happily. "Miss you!"

"Love you!" Eomma chimed in.

Everyone is insane, I thought as I clicked over Gayeon. "Hey," I said. "Are we still on for ten?"

She sighed, answering this question. "I'm so sorry. Katyleen has an earache and I have to take her to the doctors. Even if it's not an infection, and it totally is, she can't swim."

"Oh," I said. "Well, I can come along, help with the kids."

"That's so nice of you!" She replied, as some kind of yelling - in Baek family style - erupted behind her. "But to be honest, Jaebum already offered to take them to the park with his little brothers for me. We're all going for lunch at the food truck later. You could meet us there, if you want."

"Oh, that's okay. I'll just hang here, I guess."

"I'm sorry," she said again. "But what are you doing tonight? Did you finally make plans with Mark?"

"We're supposed to talk this afternoon, when he's off work."

Ever since the previous weekend and his invite to IHOP, we'd been trying to make something else happen. But Thursday, the guy worked at Albums the shift after him didn't show up and he had to close. Then the night before, when he was free after nine, I'd just come from dinner over at Gayeon's, where they were testing out a new recipe and was too stuffed to anything. We would work it out, though, if only because I had a bet to win.

"Well, let me know if you guys end up going out," she said. "I'll be kid free by seven if all goes as it should. And you know how often that happens."

I did. But I told her I'd see her later anyway, then hung up, sitting against the wall. It was now mid-morning, and the whole day stretched out in front of me. I was sure I'd spent it answering wedding questions for Sehun, and expected more texts as I changed, then went downstairs and made breakfast. But my phone stayed silent. In my heart, I'd been alone for a long while. But this was the first time in ages that I'd felt like it.

This is good, I thought, going back to my room with a cup of coffee. I had a closet to clean out before I left for school, a task I'd been putting off for ages. I grabbed a garbage bag for thrift shop donations and another for trash, then pulled open the door and got to work. An hour later, I was sweaty and sneezing from dust, and both bags were full. There was a third pile as well, marked GAYEON, of the clothes of hers she'd abandoned among my own. All that was still left to deal with was the one outfit off to the side.

I'd brought that black dress to Sanya that August weekend in a garment bag, the shoes still new in their box. Coming home that Sunday morning, sleepless and happy, I'd tossed them both into a plastic hotel laundry bag which, when I dumped it out later, also poured forth a fair amount of sand. I got the dress dry cleaned, something I'd later regret so much. Even so, more than once, I'd press my face to it, wishing to find just the slightest bit of Jongsuk's smell, the ocean, and that night still on it somewhere. Otherwise I just left it, hanging on its hook, the shoes lined up beneath it. Like the shroud for the body of the girl I once was and would never be again. Now it had been almost nine months. Maybe it was time.

I pushed my hair back from my damp forehead, then picked up Gayeon's pile, turning to toss it outside before I walked over to the dress. I reached out, touching the bodice, then felt the tiny row of sequins, almost invisible, along the hem. In my mind, time blurred, moving sideways: Jongsuk sliding a strap off my shoulder, the skirt blowing across my bare legs, down the end of the world. I bit my lip, imagining myself sliding it from the hanger, folding it carefully, and putting it into the donation bag. It wouldn't carry my memory: that would always stay with me. I knew that now. And yet, I remained unable to take those few steps to do this last task. Yet.

My phone beeped from where it was on my bed. I ran out and grabbed it so quickly I would've been embarrassed had anyone been watching. Which, of course, no one was.

KIND OF A TABLE EMERGENCY. SUGGESTIONS?

WE HAVE A FEW, I typed back. HOW MANY DO YOU NEED?

AS MANY AS YOU GOT. I'LL HAVE SOMEONE PICK THEM UP.

I looked back into the closet at the dress, those shoes, and wished yet another time I could slide back into them, like Cinderella under the fairy godmother's spell, take a spin and begin all over. But it was just an outfit, and Jongsuk was gone. Things would change, but never that. No matter how many times I told anyone, it would always be the end of this story. But maybe not, I was beginning to see, of mine.

NO, I'LL BRING THEM, I typed Sehun back. JUST TELL ME WHERE.