"Guess who was in the U.S.?" Shinhye and I were sitting on a curb outside the 7-Eleven a few blocks from school, sharing a hot chocolate. Our school had a rule - you had to play at least one sport or participate in something called an "extracurricular activity." And this - drinking hot chocolate at 7-Eleven - was our version of the activity called Winter Jogging. As long as you checked in with the coach, Mr. Anh, who sat outside the locker room grading math homework, you could "jog" on the honor system - that is, go wherever you wanted to. Which for us meant 7-Eleven.

"No way," I said. "Taejoon?"

"He was surfing. Everyone on the beach was watching him, and then he came up to me, and I don't know. It was a moment."

"Stalker Taejoon?"

"I did totally tell him it was over."

Sometimes Shinhye's logic was beyond me. "You told him?" I said. "I thought the plan was to not actually talk to him at all. And where does Jaehwan fit in here?" I don't know why I'd made it my life's mission to stick up for Jaehwan. Maybe because I could see how much Shinhye was hurting him.

"Jaehwan?" Like she didn't know who I meant.

"You're always acting like you like him. And you do. I know you do. At least a little. Admit it."

"Of course I like Jaehwan. And . . . I like toast. I just don't love toast. And I don't want to always eat toast."

Just then, two guys in suits came out of the 7-Eleven. Even though Shinhye was in a watch cap and jogging clothes and sitting on a curb like a street waif, they both turned to stare. One of them could have even been thirty. Shinhye shook her head. "Losers," she muttered.

"Yeah," I agreed, and I thought, for probably the hundred millionth time, that I had no idea what it was like to be her.

"So what happened with Taejoon?" I said, sighing, ready for the story.

And she told me how she'd snuck out of the rent house after her parents thought she was asleep. How Taejoon was waiting for her at the tiki bar on the edge of the beach. How there was live music. how everyone was in their twenties.

Taejoon kissed her. He wanted to see her again but she'd said no. She wanted to leave the magic moment between them just as it was, frozen in time, etched into polished stone.

Shinhye's and my jogging route back to school took us by the charred remains of Felix Lee's house, and we stopped to look. Shinhye put a hand on my shoulder for balance and lifted her foot to stretch her quad.

"Jaehwan gave Felix his old bicycle," she said. "he fixed it up, put a new chain on it, new tires. He used his landscaping money."

"Poor guy," I said.

"He's not suffering!" said Shinhye in a tone of exasperation. "Goodness, Suzy, you act like Jaehwan is some kind of victim, like being my friend is some kind of mental torture."

"I meant Felix."

"Oh."

˭̡̞(◞⁎˃ᆺ˂)◞*✰

Tuesday. It was eomma's take-a-donor-to-dinner night. Jin and I were up in my room. And by the time we heard her steps approaching the door, it was too late. Eomma was home early. She knocked.

How I wanted at that moment to be dressed, to have my hair not tangled and falling out of a ponytail, for Jin's shirt to be tucked into his pants, his pants back - well -on. how I wanted to be able to say "Come in!" breezily and carry on the charade that we were very busy up here doing our homework.

Because when I said "Give me a minute," I felt that something more solid than just a closed door came to stand between eomma and me. I heard the embarrassment in her voice as she said "Oh." Then, as understanding dawned: "Oh!" Then: "I only wanted to let you know I'm home. But I don't need to! No need!" I don't know if I was imagining it or not, but I think at one point she might have said "Oh, boy!" I am sure, however, that she was upset. And that she fled.

That weekend, dinner with Eomma at a restaurant downtown: halfway through the meal, she took a sip of wine, pursed her lips, opened to speak, paused, then finally said, "I'm worried about you."

I could feel my eyebrows shoot up to my forehead, heat come into my face.

"I don't want to make you mad, and I trust you," she said. "But I worry. I worry you are losing yourself."

I held my breath.

"Jin is a wonderful kid," she went on. "But . . ." She reached across the table and took my hand. "But you are a wonderful kid too. You - Suzy, you."

"Is this because of the other day?" I asked. It came out sounding more defensive than I meant it to.

Eomma shrugged. She took another sip of wine. "It's that . . ." She waved her hand in the air. "All those dance performances. Suzy, you were never even remotely interested in dance before, and now . . . But it's not just dance. It's that you seem so . . . obsessed with him. Like all your priorities have changed. You're so far away."

"No," I said. "I'm right here."

"What I want to tell you, Suzy, is - I just want you to remember that you have your whole life ahead of you."

"But I don't," I said. I could hear how hard and cold my voice had become. "My life is right now."

She stared. I never talked to her this way. I could see growing hurt in her eyes. But I felt like I had to keep going. It would be more merciful to be clear.

"I'm not you," I went on. "I don't want to always be careful. When I look at the way you live, I want to go out and rob a bank or something."

"I was just saying -"

"After Appa left," I said, cutting her off, "you gave up. Talk about letting a man dictate your whole life. The way you are - you and Viviane - it's like you both signed on for early retirement. Are you jealous or something that I actually have a life?"

"Suzy -" eomma started, but I held up a hand.

"Don't bother," I said. "I don't want to hear it. And don't try to turn me into you."

Her eyes opened wide in surprise. She lifted her arm, and for a fraction of a second I thought she was going to strike the table like a judge ordering silence in a courtroom. But she only signaled the waiter. "We'll take the check."

She didn't speak in the car. She was angry, I could see that. When we got back home, she told me she was going for a walk.

I was camped out in my room when I heard her come in an hour later. Then I heard Viviane's car arriving, and then Viviane's flat-footed step in the hall. She knocked. I braced for a lecture, even though that wasn't Viviane's style. But Viviane just said, "Oh, you're still her? Your mother was starting to wonder."

I shrugged. The sight of Viviane's hair ad honest eyes made me suddenly wish I could take back everything I'd said, go downstairs with her and eomma, make our traditional Saturday-night sundaes, pretend I was younger.

"Want some ice cream?" Viviane said.

And I did. I really, really wanted ice cream. I wanted to stay up with them and watched Saturday Night Live. I wanted to be the self I was before Jin, before Jin, before his secrets, before everything had gotten so complicated. Or at least, I sort of wanted that. I didn't want it enough to give Jin up.

So I just shrugged.

"You won't believe me when I say this," Viviane said as she turned to go. "But I know what you're going through. We've all been there."

It was taking all my concentration to keep from crying. So I didn't explain how wrong she was. I just sat there, trying to transform my afce into a perfect blank. Viviane closed the door.