Chapter Two: Where Kangaroos Rule Supreme

Jeon Jungkook took history class with me.

Every single day I remained tensed, glancing at him from the corner of my eyes. Not that he ever noticed me. I was invisible to him. Park Chanyeol sat next to him, a fluffy haired, knobby-kneed boy that was known for not being able to sit still. I remember in fifth grade one of the counselors recommended to his parents to see if he had ADHD, which made his father start a yelling match in the middle of the school about it.

Everyone knew that kind of stuff in a small town. Even people who didn’t know him would know, because that’s just how it was. Just like everyone knew my grandfather was losing it, and everyone knew that Nana was the daughter of the mayor.

Nana still found it hilarious that hormones could erase years of hatred and antipathy.

He never glanced at me, not even by accident. Sometimes he would flirt with Kim Yeri, but that was probably because she lived for thrills even more than he did. He would do this eye thing at her that made my knees weak and my ability to pay attention dissipate for the rest of the class. If I react that way when he does it to another girl I wasn’t sure I’d be able to survive him doing it to me.

Half the time Jeon Jungkook was wearing a worn out leather jacket and farm jeans. His lips were generous, and tended to have a slight quirk to the right. As if he couldn’t stop himself from giving a half grin. His eyes always flew to the most interesting thing in the room, which was rarely what the teacher was writing about on the board. Sometimes it was a drawing that Chanyeol was doodling on his notebook. Every now and then he would stare at Kim Yeri. Once when the school was redoing some electrical damage he stared outside for the whole period as they fixed it. He would tilt his chair back so that it was balancing on two legs, his face curious as he worked out whatever it was he was thinking, and then turn away.

I heard that Jeon Jungkook liked to party, that anytime someone was throwing a get together Jungkook was there, bringing a keg of beer with him. Rumor said he got it from his brother, who was currently partying it up at university. He certainly didn’t get it from his dad who owned the only two gas stations in town, or his mom, who was the Sunday school teacher at church.

I learned from Victoria that he had dyslexia, but liked to pretend he didn’t struggle with it. I found out that Jeon Jungkook never went straight home. He was always with friends, or a girlfriend.

Nana said I should stop before this becomes a true obsession, but I think it’s already too late.

It’s not like I expect anything to come of this. I just couldn’t help myself. Jeon Jungkook may have been a Grade A hole in elementary school, but he had turned out to be a beautiful specimen; and as far as I could tell he no longer teased people.

Well, he only ever teased me so I suppose that point is moot.

Nana placed her tray next to mine, staring at my yogurt. “They were out when I got there,” she complained, poking the questionable sausage with a plastic fork. I hurried to take a bite of my yogurt, knowing if I didn’t Nana would take it with no remorse.

“I got the last one,” I shrugged.

“Hey, are you still making all that beeswax stuff with your mom this weekend?”

Running two beehives and relocating bees left me with a lot of honey and left over wax. One day mom decided to start making stuff with it, and it’s not like I could complain as I got part of the profit when it sold at the art store my mom worked at. It was how I made any money at all, considering that was the only job I’ve ever had. I never thought about the wax that was left over once I took the honey out. Not until that was all that was left.

I normally get the honey out of the hive during the summer, and then began working on the craft stuff once Fall begins. It left me with enough time to buy presents for Christmas and create all the homemade goods.

“Yep,” I said, popping the ‘P”.

“I’m coming over then. My dad is going to be out of town so that means my mom is going to watch soap operas all weekend.”

I grimaced, shaking my head back and forth. “I tried watching them with her once. I don’t know how she does it.”

“Guess what,” Nana grinned. “Pogo learned a new trick. I taught him how to fetch.”

Pogo was the dumbest dog I had ever witnessed on the face of this Earth. I don’t think he even knows his name yet, and Nana had him for a year now. He was a cute, golden brown cocker spaniel, but dumber than a stick. “How did you manage that?”

Nana’s cheeks flushed. “I chased after the ball when I threw it.”

I couldn’t help but snort. “And how many times did you do that?”

“I’d rather not count.”

“Probably for the best.” I stabbed at a limp piece of lettuce with a frown. “Mom still won’t buy me a new car.”

“But your car breaks down every week.”

I sighed, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, but she says I’m lucky to have a car.” It wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful. Heck, there was someone in our class who decided to drive a tractor to school every day, I just didn’t see the point in even having one when it was unreliable.

That, and I was certain Kaeun would get a sports car when she turned sixteen.

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