By the time I got to my mom's office, I'd somewhat calmed down. Gayeon had helped, turning up the radio loud as she drove us through the city, now and then taking looks at me she though I didn't notice. It was beautiful out on the sidewalks and in their cars, windows down - while elsewhere, someone's worst nightmare had only just become real. It seemed wrong, like there should've been a stain on the day or something.

"Are you sure you don't want us to hang out for a few minutes?" Gayeon asked me as she pulled into the lot of my mom's office, where I'd left my car parked earlier. "All I have left to do is to pick up Jae's new glasses and then grabbed from from TaeKwonDo."

"Another pair of glasses?" I questioned.

She glanced at the twins in the rear view, each looking out a separate window, sitting close to each other. "The kid got suspended this time. We'll see if it makes a difference."

Although I found Jae's monotone and awkwardness appealing, it made him a target for the bullies at his school. Martial arts had made him strong, but not much of a difference in the lunch line, at least not yet. In the meantime, the Chois spent a lot on replacement eyewear.

"I'm fine, you should go," I told her. "I'll see you at the ceremony."

"Here's hoping Seunghoo passes out and doesn't make it."

"Fingers crossed."

She laughed, and I did too, if only to convince her I was, in fact, okay. With her Choi and me Bae, we'd spent our lives in this city with Seunghoo Boo between us for every alphabetical occasion, except when he was too stoned to show up for school. We'd long hoped this would happen for graduation, if only for the continuity of us being on the stage at the same time. Making memories, indeed.

As she drove off, already cranking the radio, I started toward my mom's office. Soojung Bae Weddings was located in the center of a modern office building with a dentist's office on one side and a stationary store on the other. Entirely too much of my paycheck had gone to the latter due to my weakness for cards, writing paper, and blank journals. Life seemed so much manageable when you could write it down neatly on papers which was probably exactly why could only do it for a day or two, and hadn't even tried in the last year. When I looked through those barely begun journals now, the events on the pages seemed too small to even fill the lines, that not important. Thinking this, I had a flashback to the salesgirl and her computer, and felt a shiver. I pulled open the door to my mom's office, where the A/C was always blasting and I wouldn't notice my own drop in temperature.

Wooyoung saw me, though, immediately getting up from his seat at the conferences table across from Julee and coming over. "I had a news alert on my phone," he said in a low voice. Distantly, I heard my mom, also at the table, saying something about headcounts. "You okay?"

"Fine," I said automatically. "Go back to your meeting. I just came to drop off the tickets."

He nodded, but still waited a second, as if I might change my mind, before returning to the group. Meanwhile, I slipped into the office, where I reached into my pocket, pulling out two passes I'd picked up for the ceremony. You were allowed up to six, but it wasn't like I needed any more. I slid them into my mom's purse, which was sitting on her side of the big desk they shared, then went back out into the main room.

". . . were supposed to meet me half hour ago," Julee was saying to brother Sehun, who had joined the group in my brief absence. Dressed in jeans, a short-sleeve blue button-down, and tennis shoes, he looked freshly showered, as if just beginning his day at this late hour. Maybe this was why his sister, usually so pleasant, seemed annoyed. "It's no wonder you can't get a job if you're incapable of getting places on time."

"My watch is broken," he said. "And then I had to get here, so . . ."

Julee' cheeks were flushed. "You have a phone, Sehun. And there are clocks!"

And awkward silence settled over the room, during which he spotted me and smiled, waving energetically, as if we were longtime friends finally reunited. His complete lack of caring for the trouble he'd caused would've been impressive if it didn't seem so demented. I was still deciding how to react when my mom said, "So, Suzy. How does it feel to be almost free from the education system?"

Now everyone looked at me. Even when I wasn't working, I was working. "I won't believe it until I flipped my tassel," I replied.

"Suzy's graduating tonight," Wooyoung explained to Julee. "High school."

"Really?" She smiled at me. Beside her, Sehun noticed Wooyoung's fancy stainless tape dispenser - we were both ers for office supplies - and pulled it toward him. "Congratulations!" Julee said. "What a accomplishment. I remember every minute of my commencement."

"Me, too," Sehun said. I noticed that his hair, although damp, was in full effect, that one curl pushed away from his face but about to tumble down again.

"You didn't graduate," his sister pointed out. To us she added, "It was one of those leave-quietly-and-we-won't-expel-you kind of situations. Classic Sehun."

"I was talking about yours," he said, pushing the button on the dispenser. It whirred, spitting out a single piece of tape. "And it was never proven that I brought a horse in, if you recall."

My mom raised an brow. "Horse?"

"So what are you doing next year, Suzy?" Julee asked quickly, turning her attention back to me. Whatever had happened with farm animals, she didn't want to dwell in it.

"I'm going to Gangnam University," I replied.

"It's a private liberal arts college, her first choice, and she got partial scholarship," Wooyoung added proudly.

"That's great," Julee told me, as Sehun hit the switch again. Then again. Two pieces of tape popped out and he grabbed them, sticking them to his thumbs. "I went to Seoul University. Majored in public policy. I loved college."

"It's just so hard to believe," Wooyoung told her. "I feel like she just started kindergarten. Time just flies."

Oh man, I thought, hearing his voice grow tight as he finishes his sentence.

"Wooyoung, pace yourself," my mom, also noticing, advised. "We've still got the whole night ahead of us."

He nodded, even as he took out a folded tissue, dabbing his eyes. IF my mom and Wooyoung were one person - ad it often felt like they were, to me - she'd always been the head and he the heart. Sure, they were equally cynical when it came to their business and the main concept that underscored it. But if she could joke or reason away anything that made her feel, it was often because Wooyoung took it to heart twice as hard. This was especially true when it came to me. First day of kindergarten, first sleepover, first time my heart was broken; it was Wooyoung who sympathy cried or clung to my hand just a beat too long before I walked out the door. And thank goodness for it. I loved my mom, but with just her I might have never known what compassion looked like.

"Speaking of later plans, we need to move this along," he said now, looking at the notebook open in front of him. "To recap, we've touched on the latest with the venue and catering, and I'll reach out to these top three of five ideals for the rehearsal dinner to check on availability. Are the guest numbers still pretty firm for that?"

Julee flipped open the cover of her tablet and swiped through a few screens. Beside her, Sehun picked up the dispenser and turned it upside down, examining its base. "Seventy-eight with wedding and all-out-of-town family."

"And you have sent invitations?" my mom asked.

"Four weeks ago," Julee replied, sitting up straighter. It was obvious she sensed my mom's apprehension about this event and was eager to please her. "Sp far we're at two hundred RSVPs, with a final estimate of two hundred fifty."

My mom glanced at Wooyoung, who gave her a smug look. Big weddings meant big money and with, Julee's fiance, Kim Chwe, from a family that owned a big pharmaceutical company, big attention. Personally, I wanted to know if she planned to change her name, switching from Julee Oh to Julee Chwe, but hadn't found a way to work this into a meeting. Yet.

"You really think any place that you'd want to use can handle a party of seventy-eight people on a Friday night only nine weeks out?" my mom asked, as Sehun, apparently still fascinated by the dispenser, put it back on the table and push it button several times in a row: click, click, click.

"If there's a possibility of a magazine spread, yes," Wooyoung replied, over the sound of the machine whirring, discharging tape pieces.

"You can't make room where there isn't any."

"There's always a way."

In the midst of all this, the machine started making a grinding noise. Then, a long squeak. We all looked at Sehun, who reached out and hit the button again.

"I just feel that you -" my mom said, but that was as far as she got before Sehun picked up the dispenser again, trying to turn it off. When he couldn't, he stuck it in his lap, under the table, where it continued to grind louder and louder until I heard a pop. Suddenly there was a lot of tape on the floor at my feet, as well as a faint smell of smoke.

"Sehun!" Julee screeched, losing her cool entirely. She turned in her seat, snatching the dispenser from his lap. "Damn! Stop it!"

"I was just -" Sehun said. Delicately, my mom reached down, pulling a piece of tape off her foot and putting it on he folder.

"I don't care!" Julee said. "You're always doing something and it's never what you should be doing and now Eomma's had enough and I'm stuck with you so fuvking shut up and sit there and don't touch anything!"

Silence. Out of habit, I glanced at Wooyoung, who looked both horrified and thrilled by this development. I had to admit I was, too. Julee cursing was unexpected. My mom, however, was hardly fazed as she said, "All I'm saying is that I think you need to keep your expectations in check."

At this, Julee burst into tears. As she put her hands to her pretty face, shoulders shaking, Sehun patted her arm, then said to us, "It's a stressful thing, a wedding."

"Oh my god!" she screamed, wrenching away from him. She pushed back her chair, getting to her feet. "I'm sorry. I just . . . I need . . ."

"Of course," Wooyoung said smoothly. "Restroom is around the corner. I'll get you a water."

I wasn't sure that was going to help, especially after I heard how hard the bathroom door slammed a moment later. Nevertheless, he disappeared down the hallway with a bottle in hand, leaving me, my mom, and Sehun alone. I looked down at the floor. Tape was everywhere.

"You know, Sehun," my mom said after a moment, "it would be a huge help to us if you didn't drive your sister insane before August."

Despite Julee's breakdown and the tape explosion, there was only one thing I noticed about my mom as she was talking. She was talking in WE when it came to this wedding. Julee was surely embarrassed. But thanks to the outburst, it looked like my mom was finally in.

"People never believe me when I tell them this," Sehun replied, folding his arms. "But I'm not trying to annoy her. She's just very sensitive."

"You really think that's the issue?" my mom asked.

He nodded, somber. "Always has been."

"I heard your mom sent you here because she was so frustrated with dealing with you."

"True," he agreed. "And I wrecked her car. But in my defense, she is also very sensitive. I think it's a genetic thing."

Oh, come ooon, I thought, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Of course it was everyone's fault. Next he'd blame the tape dispenser. My mom, however, smiled at him, clearly amused. "Did I hear Julee say you need a job?"

"That's what I'm told," he replied.

"You're told?"

"It's actually more of an order," he admitted. "Apparently I am both annoying and expensive."

Instead of replying, my mom just studied him, one hand touching her diamond necklace. I didn't like the look on her face even before she said, "How about this: you work for me this summer, and I'll take your wages off my fee, which your mom is paying."

"Really?"

"Eomma?" I said, stunned.

Sehun smiled at me. "Did you hear that? We'll be co-workers!"

"But you have to actually work," she told him, firm now. "I don't do annoying or expensive. And you show up on time. Is that clear?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "When do I start?"

"Now." My mom got up from the chair, then pointed under the table. "Pick up all the tape. Then come find me for a coffee order. I need caffeine."

"On it," Sehun said, giving her a mock salute as she walked to her office. I followed her, looking behind us just before shutting the door to see him bending down on the floor, picking up the tape one piece at a time. He saw me looking at him and gave me a cheerful thumbs-up.

"Are you crazy?" I said to her, closing the door. "Why in the world would you hire him?"

"It's our job to keep brides calm and focused," she replied, pulling her wallet out of her purse. "This wedding is a mess so far, and yet the only time I've seen Julee upset has been because of Sehun. This way, he's out of her hair and helping us at the same time."

"No way," I said, shaking my head. "You've never hired anyone on the spot. You background check the rare person you do take on. There's no way you'd risk your name and your event just to keep someone busy."

"I can't do a good deed?" she asked, amused.

"You don't do good deeds," I said flatly.

"Yah!" she protested. I just looked at her. Finally, she sighed, "Okay, fine. I may have gotten a phone call earlier from their mother how Julee was at her limit with her brother and asking if, for an additional fee, we could divert him somehow."

"She's paying you to babysit?"

"Not babysit. He's working, or no deal. I told her that." She slipped a twenty out of her wallet, handing it to me. "And I'm not going to trust him with anything crucial. Errands, physical labor, last-minute details, and coffee runs."

I thought for a second. "But that's my job."

"Exactly." She smiled. "And you're about to graduate and have your last summer before college. I'd like to see you actually try to enjoy it."

"Don't do this for me," I said, in a warning voice. "I've already dealt with him enough to know I'd rather work alone than with that kind of help."

"You're welcome," she said, as if I hadn't said anything. Then, before I could protest further, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to my forehead. "Give him this and the standard coffee order and point him toward Bae's Caffeine. Then you're officially off duty. Okay?"

I wanted to keep at this, stop what would surely be a runaway train before it even had a chance to gain speed. But over her shoulder, the clock said 4:15 and I had a date to meet Gayeon in line in two hours. Plus, based on all I'd already seen of Sehun Oh, he wouldn't need me to sabotage him: he'd do it himself. Probably before I even flipped my tassel.

"Okay," I said, taking the bill from her. "It's your funeral."

"What a charming way to put it," she replied. "Spoken just like a high school graduate."

I rolled my eyes, reaching down to open the door. When I pushed it open, it banged hard against something on the other side. Which, I saw as I peeked around it, was Sehun, who was still on the floor and, most likely, close enough to have heard everything. Whoops.

"I think I got it all," he said now, not sounding offended at least. "Man, that was some sticky tape."

"That's why we keep it in a dispenser," I told him as he got to his feet, picking pieces off his hands and dropping them in a nearby trash can. "My mom wants coffee. I'm supposed to give you her order and point you there on my way out."

"Great," he replied, so easygoing, like a person who'd never had a reason not to be. Of course he hadn't heard what I'd said. Even id he had, I was sure he'd figured I was talking about someone else. Or that I was sensitive. "Lead the way."

♡ NOW AND FOR THE LAST TIME ♡

It may seem like just coffee," I said, as we stood in an unexpectedly long line at Bae's Caffeine. "But nothing is just anything when it comes to my mother. That's the first thing you need to know."

He nodded. "She's a tough person, is what you're saying."

I looked at him. "Never call her that. Like, ever."

"Noted." He shook his head, that one curl bouncing off to the side. "You know, I'm getting a sense you don't have a lot of confidence in my ability to do this job."

"You're correct," I replied, as the line finally moved a bit.

He had the nerve to look offended. "Why? You don't even know me."

"Maybe, but let's recap my experience with you so far. You delayed your mom's wedding -"

"Which might have been a good thing. Imagine if I'd been talking to Dae even longer? She might have come to her senses and saved herself a lot of anguish."

"- and just today," I went on, "you broke company property and made a client cry."

"I made my sister cry," he corrected me. "At the time, I was not yet an employee. Let's me clear here."

The line moved forward, slightly. "Do you always deflect anything that might make you accountable for a problem?"

"For some reason, blame is often directed toward me. I have to be vigilant."

"For some reason?"

"Weren't you going to give me the coffee order?"

My jaw clenched, hard, and I told myself to relax. When I couldn't, I distracted myself by looking over the woman Wooyoung and I had called the Phone Lady. Every weekday, no matter what time I came in for coffee, she was at that same single table, her laptop open, phone to her ear. There, she would talked loudly, as if compelled to make everyone hear her end of the conversation. Sometimes, it was about her work; she did some kind of medical record transcribing. More often, the talk was personal. Earlier the week, for example, I'd learned both that one of her friend had recently gotten a cancer diagnosis and that she herself was allergic to wheat. And that had been a short line.

Sure enough, during a pause of the expresso machine, I could now make out her high voice saying something about airline fares. I said to Sehun, "Wooyoung will always want a tall chai latte with almond milk. He's the constant. My mom, however, is a wild card. Most days, she'd going to want expresso with whole milk, If she's really stressed, she'll ask for double. But if she snaps at you, just get a single. She won't know the difference and it's better for everyone."

Sehun didn't respond, and I realized he was studying the pastries. Great. "Hello?" I said. "Are you even -"

"Tall chai latte, almond. Mom asked for a single expresso, so don't have to make a judgment call. Plus two chocolate croissants, warmed up so they're nice and melty."

I blinked, surprised he'd at least gotten of it right. "I didn't say anything about croissants."

"Those are for us."

"I don't want a croissant."

"You seemed a little crabby. It might help." he advised. "Don't worry, it's on me. Although I might have to borrow a couple of bucks until payday."

Later, I'd realize that this response pretty much summed up everything that made me crazy about Sehun in one simple sentence. At the time though, I just stood there, unable to respond. Then my phone vibrated. Gayeon.

ARE YOU GETTING EXCITED? WORD IS PARTY AT THE BLINKS WILL BE AMAZING. MAKING MEMORIES!

"Party at the Blinks, huh?" Sehun asked, reading over my shoulder. "Where's that?"

I jerked my phone to the side. "Seriously? Do you have any manners at all?"

"You're the one who pulled out a phone during our conversation," he noted. When I glared at him, he said, "You know, you really might want to rethink that croissant."

"Next," the guy behind the counter, a little older than me, whose preference for plaid shirts had made Wooyoung called him the Lumberjack. "Hey. How's the wedding business?"

"Crazy as ever," I said. I gestured at Sehun. "He's got the order. But you probably know it better than even I do."

"Probably," Lumberjack chuckled. "But tell me anyway."

"I'm out of here," I told Sehun. "Don't forget extra napkins."

"Okay," he said, as I turned around, toward the door. "Have fun at graduation!"

This last comment was said in such a cheerful way and easygoing tone, the absolute opposite of how I'm feeling, that I felt my jaw tighten again. How on earth could someone be so immune to basic social cues, so entirely oblivious to how annoying he was? I was still wondering this as I pulled the door open, Phone Lady's voice again suddenly audible over other conversations, music, and the beeping register.

". . . just one of those days," she was saying. "And did you hear about the shooting in Sanya? Five kids, they are saying. Five. That's the most since -"

I shut the door so hard behind me it rattled the glass, not that anyone noticed. Everyone's always in their own world, when it's still an option.