xvi. “To say goodbye is to die a little.”

― The Long Goodbye

_____

Jongdae knows loss, and that I’m very sure of. But there has been so much loss, so much sacrifice, that part of me wonders if he still knows what it’s like to gain, to receive, to earn back. He’s used to putting it down, to giving it up, that he no longer knows when to pick up what he’s deserved more than anything else.

And sometimes, it’s okay to be selfish once in a while, especially when all you have been is selfless.  

***

It’s a surprise I manage to sleep that night. My thoughts are turbulent: with Chanyeol, with Jongdae and finally, my parents. When I wake up in the morning, tired from sleeping in fitful bursts, the atmosphere isn’t much better. Just colder. Which, really, isn’t that much of an improvement.

My mom gives me a plate of scrambled eggs and a steamed bun she must have bought, though it’s done so with very little words. Her hair is tied in a bun and her lips are set in a straight line. I suppose there was no resolving the argument after I went to sleep. I know I shouldn’t be expectant of something different, but the disappointment is bitter nonetheless.

My dad joins the breakfast table a little while later. He, too, doesn’t look like he’s slept very well and there’s a crease between his eyebrows when he walks him, obviously not happy about everything, but I ignore both of them and pretend I can’t speak my stuffing food in my mouth. When I’m done, I quietly dismiss myself and rush off to school.

It’s not to say school will be any better. I trudge through the main gates, thoroughly miserable, and into my next class, where I’ll have to face the people I’m dreading most—Chanyeol and his friends, then Jongdae.

To my surprise, the class, somewhat empty (I’m early for once) is quiet when I walk inside. Jongdae’s there, Chanyeol’s not, and then I realize that Jongdae’s talking to the boy I almost always see around Chanyeol—Byun Baekhyun. His eyes are practically covered by a mop of unruly brown hair, although he’s talking quite animatedly with Jongdae, to my surprise. He seems close enough with Chanyeol that I’d have expected the whole feud to rub off on him too and for him to take Chanyeol’s side, but apparently it’s not the case. And in the midst of everything, that makes me feel a little better.

Jongdae gives me a small smile when he sees me. That’s also a relief; part of me is unsure if he’s mad at me or not, and I was slightly scared he’d ignore. It’s ridiculous because that’s not something Kim Jongdae would even do, but I let go of the breath I’ve been holding and return the smile.

Baekhyun sees me next. Everyone’s sparsely spaced around the classroom and no one really takes notice of us, but I have a feeling that it’ll be just my luck that Ms. Lim or Chanyeol walk in at that moment.

“Anna,” he starts.

I don’t know if I want to bolt or freeze. “Yeah,” I manage out, then glance at Jongdae. He holds my gaze squarely for a couple of seconds, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. Baekhyun’s someone I associate with Chanyeol; I can’t imagine that whatever he wants is going to be anything good.

Someway or another, he dips his head at me. “Sorry about yesterday,” he says, and I do a double take. “I should’ve… well, I should’ve stopped Chanyeol, but he’s been going off about it for such a long time and when he’s mad, well…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Jongdae and I were talking about how we should approach him about it.”

Jongdae gave me a slight wince. “Yeah,” he agreed. His voice is somewhat better than the last time I remember, less hoarse, though it still hasn’t returned to the usual timbre. “I think it’ll probably be best if Chanyeol and I sat down and had, well, an actual talk. Without anymore pretending. Maybe he’ll listen if he knows everything that’s…” His eyes flicker to Baekhyun briefly. “...going on.”

So Baekhyun doesn’t know either. Still, it’s a relief that I’m pretty sure I beam at Jongdae. “That’s great,” I say, and I genuinely mean it. “When are you going to talk to him?”

He glances at the door. “Hopefully today,” he replies. “But he’s normally here earlier, so I don’t know.”

Baekhyun nods. I’ve never paid him much attention—I know he’s relatively loud, but compared to Chanyeol, he’s never quite… stood out. He reminds me a bit of Jongdae in some ways, though I can’t place a finger on what it is. It’s not as if they look similar. Baekhyun’s more delicately built feature wise, with thin lips and crescent eyes and a slight splatter of freckles while Jongdae’s features are sharper. He’s louder than Jongdae. But for some reason, I can’t help but think there’s something strangely similar about the two of them.

“You know,” he finally says, “I’m sorry for misjudging you.”

That’s the second scare of the past five minutes, and I blink at Baekhyun in surprise. He’s not Chanyeol and that’s a given, but it’s such a strange to hear something like that from anyone in Jongdae’s friend group that isn’t, well, Jongdae.

“Misjudging me?” I echo.

“Yeah.” He lifts a shoulder. “I didn’t really know you so I based it off of Chanyeol’s impression, which wasn’t great.” Baekhyun winces. “This isn’t completely his fault, I don’t think, but you’ve done nothing wrong either.”

I wonder if nothing wrong constitutes the things I’ve said to Chanyeol, many which I’m not particularly proud of and I’m pretty sure Baekhyun’s heard. Swallowing thickly, I manage, “He has his reasons.”

“And he’s stubborn too. Maybe when all of this has blown over, we can set aside differences and get along.”

At that moment, Ms. Lim, impeccably on the dot (the bell rings as soon as she enters) comes inside and raps her ruler on the desk. Most of the class has filed in by then, though feeling a good deal lighter than before, I slip back to my desk.

***

Chanyeol doesn’t show up, but Jongdae isn’t phased by it. He doesn’t go to the courtyard to eat lunch either, but somehow, he drags me to an empty table in the cafeteria.

Apparently the flu has gone enough for him to eat proper food because he actually has a plate from the cafeteria, though it’s white rice, vegetables, and very little of the meat they’re serving. I raise an eyebrow at Jongdae. “Why are we eating here today?”

He just shrugs. “I felt like it.”

That’s not exactly a sufficient answer, but questioning Kim Jongdae’s when he gives that sort of answer is normally useless, so I give it up. “You didn’t see Chanyeol?”

A shake of his head. “He wasn’t in math when I went either, so I don’t think he’s coming today. We don’t have practice today, so…”

“Does he skip often?”

Jongdae’s eyes are slightly distant. “No,” he replies, then gives me a smile. “It’s okay. I’ll talk to him when he’s back—”

“Hey.” It’s Baekhyun’s voice, and he sits down across from us at the table. I’ve been so used to sitting with just Jongdae whether it be here or outside that having someone else is strange. He sets his tray down. “Chanyeol’s not here today.”

Jongdae’s expression doesn’t betray anything. I wonder when I’ll have the same control he has. “I know,” he replies smoothly. “I’ll talk to him after the weekend.”

Baekhyun doesn’t questions that anymore, just nods. “Did you hear about the talent show?” he continues. Here’s the difference, I think. He talks so much more than Jongdae, and somehow, he can keep talking. “They just announced it. It’s in a month, and auditions are in ten days.”

“Talent show?” I echo.

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