“You’re not attracted to Moonbyul,” Eric stated matter-of-factly.

A flicker of annoyance ran through her at how quickly he dismissed what had just been shared with him. Yes, she didn’t have much experience with matters of attraction, but Yongsun also felt that she had shown herself to be in enough control of her feelings that others would trust her when she spoke about them.

“You’re being condescending.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “it’s just … nothing you’ve said thus far confirms to me that you see her as anything other than a friend.”

“I literally told you I had butterflies in my stomach when I thought of her. What more do you want me to say? That I want to sleep with her?”

“Yes, actually. That would be more convincing than what you actually said, which was, ‘I was thinking that I might be attracted to Byulyi.’ That’s not as conclusive as you’re making it out to be.”

He wasn’t wrong.

After coming to her “realization”, Yongsun sat through a quick video call with Moonbyul. Most of their conversation revolved around the sudden spike in the athlete’s popularity—the younger girl found it hilarious and was enjoying it a little too much for Yongsun’s liking. She had seen the messages in their group chat with Wheein and Hyejin which urged her to check social media sites to brush up on the extent of the hoopla around her, the “Blonde Korean”.

“Oh my goodness! Did you see some of these messages, Yong? This is so funny.”

“Don’t see much funny about it, honestly.” Yongsun felt she was missing something. No part of these strangers being desperate and throwing themselves at Moonbyul was funny to her.

“Oh come on. Lighten up. It’s a good thing we won today, huh? Wouldn’t want to let my new fans down,” Moonbyul replied cockily.

“Can we talk about the game, please, and not this nonsense.”

“Sure. It felt good today. Everything was clicki–, whoa! This girl is really pretty. Hold on. I’m going to send you the link to her page. She left a comment under one of my pictures so I checked her profile and … wow. She’s really pretty.”

Yongsun managed to steer their conversation towards basketball for a few minutes before Byul got distracted again by how “good-looking” everyone commenting about her was. The older girl ended the call with the athlete after about 15 minutes.

Still in a tizzy over her newfound “feelings” for Moonbyul, and with that video call not having helped at all, Yongsun called Eric. She hadn’t even given him a chance to say “hello” before she launched into recounting the day’s events and the momentous conclusion she’d come to.

He wasn’t having any of it.

“Yongsun, taking into account everything you’ve shared, I’d recommend you, first of all, take a breath. You’re not into her.”

“Then you clearly weren’t listening to everything I said.”

“I was. What I heard was that since breaking up with your boyfriend four days ago, all you’ve heard since then is talk about how ‘hot’ Moonbyul is. It makes sense to me why you’d come to the conclusion that you‘re attracted to her or whatever, but more than anything, it seems like you’re stressed out.”

“What would I be stressed out about? I’m not in a relationship anymore.”

“And from what you shared, there are doubts about if you’ll ever get into another relationship, which, come on, Yongsun. I know you’re dramatic at times, but this is a bit much. Of course you’ll find someone else.”

She had to laugh. Hearing Eric summarize her thoughts pointed out to her how over-the-top she could be at times.

“More than anything, it sounds like there’s a lot your friendship with Moonbyul has that your romantic relationship with Jinyoung didn’t, so you’re comparing them and … you can’t compare the two, Yongsun. You just can’t. She’s your friend, he was your partner. You can’t compare.”

“Okay, but I could still be attracted to her. How are you so sure that I’m not?”

“For starters, there’s no ambiguity when you’re attracted to someone. You’ll know. Immediately. Second, many people go through this with their close friends. It’s very common—confusing friendship with more. It happened to me with you.”

“Excuse me?” He said that a little too casually.

“What? I did. A bunch of people kept making jokes about how cute of a couple we’d make and one day I sat and thought, ‘If everyone’s saying it, it must be true.’ I tried to force something that wasn’t there. Repeating that: I tried to force something that wasn’t there. Before you start thinking I like you like that, I do not.”

“I heard you the first time, calm down. You don’t find me attractive, I get it,” she rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t say that. You’re extremely attractive, but I see you as only a friend. It sounds like there are bits of that happening with you and Moonbyul right now. You two are very close and she’s attractive, so you’re assuming that it means you need to like her as more and … you don’t. There’s no checklist for this stuff, Yongsun. When you meet someone you’re attracted to, you’ll know. Don’t stress yourself out about it.”

Credit to Eric, he let the silence between them hang, aware that she needed time to process everything. And from her side, there did seem to be some sense to what he was saying. It was possible she was simply protective over her best friend while projecting what she felt she wanted and needed from a relationship onto the relationship she and Moonbyul had built thus far.

“You think you know everything, huh?” She teased.

“Not at all,” he chuckled, “just trying to help out my wonderful friend that overthinks everything and only calls me during crises.”

Damn.

“I love you, Eric,” Yongsun replied in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“You know that doesn’t work on me.”

“Fine,” she pouted even though he couldn’t see it. “It’s still true, though. Love you lots. And I’m very grateful for you always talking me down when I’m being unreasonable or dramatic.”

“Or when you’re being unreasonable and dramatic.”

“Ignoring that. But yes, I can and will be better at checking-in with you more frequently. I’m sorry,” the graduate student finished in a small voice.

Before Moonbyul, Wheein, Hyejin, or Chorong, Eric was Yongsun’s friend. She didn’t want to be one of those people that casted aside her old friends the moment new friendships were forged. He deserved much more than that.

“It’s okay. I understand. Graduate school is challenging and busy. You have year one under your belt, though, so now that you know what to expect, I’m expecting better communication from one of my favorite girls.”

The call was helpful. Eric’s logic made sense. It was very possible that she was projecting many of her relationship ideals onto Byulyi, which was unfair to the younger girl. An understatement.

That being said, it didn’t go unnoticed by her how different it felt when Eric called her “one of his favorite girls” compared to when Byul said almost the exact same thing only 45 minutes ago. It felt very different.

Yongsun had more thinking to do.

*

“I think this is the first time I’m completely okay with a loss. They were the better team—really and truly—but look at how well we played them. They had to earn it. One of their players even said that to me after the game.”

“Mmm,” Yongsun distractedly responded.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You seem out of it. I said that one of the Spanish players told me they really had to work hard against us and all you said was, ‘mmm’. Normally you’d say something along the lines of, ‘Since when do you understand Spanish?’ and then I’d say, ‘She said it in English,’ and then you’d say, ‘Oh, so you think you’re big and bad because you speak and understand English?’ then I’d laugh and probably say, ‘Oh my gosh, there’s no winning with you.’”

“You seem to have everything under control. Don’t really need me to say anything.”

“Is something wrong, Yong?”

The amount of concern in Moonbyul’s voice was wrecking her. Their call today was only two days after their previous one, two days after Yongsun came to the conclusion that she possibly liked Byulyi as more than a friend, two days after Eric effectively squashed that … except not really. Since then, all Yongsun did was think. Did she like Moonbyul? Or was she trying to avoid future heartache by forcing romance into her most stable relationship thus far? She had zero idea what she was doing.

Byul doing what she just did—speaking with genuine concern for Yongsun’s well-being—or saying and doing other things that made Yongsun feel like the most important woman in the world wasn’t helping at all.

“I broke up with Jinyoung six days ago.” It wasn’t what was bothering her, but she hadn’t yet shared the news with her best friend, so Yongsun figured she might as well do it now.

“Seriously? Wow. How are you holding up?”

“That’s … not at all how I was expecting you to react. Thought you’d be jumping for joy.”

“Oh, I will. Later. But it’s getting you down so, obviously, I’ll listen to you cry over him or whatever. Y’know, friendship … or whatever.”

Just like that, by being herself, Moonbyul had improved Yongsun’s mood. The older girl couldn’t help but grin at how clear it was that Byul would prefer to discuss anything but Jinyoung right now, but she offered to do so anyway because it’s what she thought Yongsun wanted, because it’s what she thought Yongsun needed.

“I’m not going to cry over him,” she said with a soft smile on her face, still not over how good of a person Moonbyul was.

“Good. What made you finally decide to break up with him?”

“It was the right time. Things weren’t going anywhere. He was surprised by it, though, so I felt like .”

“Don’t. And I’m not even saying that because I wasn’t a fan of his. Relationships are supposed to work for both people. If you aren’t feeling it and nothing is getting better, it’s best to end it before things turn ugly.”

“That was actually good advice.” Yongsun didn’t even try to hide her shock.

“Of course it was. I’m great at relationships. Any ex of mine would tell you so.”

“Is that why you haven’t been in a real relationship in ages?”

Byul’s guffawed loud enough that her roommate scolded her for the noise.

“First of all, Haena counts. We were basically girlfriends.”

“Basically doesn’t count.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It does. If she and I had more time, we’d have had the labels.”

“Whatever,” Yongsun grumpily conceded.

“But yeah, as I was saying, one, Haena counts, and two, if someone comes along that warrants being in a relationship with, I’m open to it.”

“Is there anyone you have your eye on? Someone that you’re thinking of dating?”

Yongsun honestly wasn’t fishing for anything. Given the natural progression of their conversation, and taking into account everything that Byulyi had shared, it made sense to ask the question that she did. As the athlete took time to ponder her response—much more time than Yongsun felt such a straightforward question required—anticipation for the reply grew steadily. The more time she waited, Yongsun grew uncertain about which answer she wanted to hear.

“Are you asking if I like someone or if there’s someone I want to date? Those can be two very different things,” Byul asked for clarification.

“Both, I guess.”

“Oh.” The younger girl took more time to think, twisting her lips to a side as she did so. “No. There’s no one,” she softly answered. “So if you know of anyone, send them my way,” Byul forced a laugh.

She didn’t like anyone. Oh.

As Yongsun’s lips parted, a challenge on the tip of her tongue, Moonbyul cut her off.

“I almost asked you the same questions then I remembered you just got out of a relationship.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t like or want to date someone else just because I was recently in a relationship?”

“Can you fix your face, please? You’re getting worked up for no reason. ‘Recently in a relationship’ is an understatement. The two of you broke up sx days ago, Yongsun. Be reasonable.”

“I am being reasonable. Don’t you think you’re being overbearing by assuming that everyone exits a relationship in the same condition? If I think I like someone, I’d know best, wouldn’t I?”

“Can we not argue, please? You know I don’t like it when we fight.”

“Fine,” she replied tersely.

Yongsun hated fighting with Moonbyul, too, but no matter how well-meaning both had been, this was the second person in as many days telling her about her feelings and it grated on her nerves, probably because she yearned to feel confident in this part of her life, yet still had no idea what was going on.

“All I’m saying is, regardless of if the breakup was fine, it was still a breakup. Something didn’t work, and from my experience, catching feelings for someone right out of a relationship is a mess—you end up either trying to recreate all the good things about the relationship that just ended, or you use that person as a guinea pig for trying to fix all the things that didn’t work. Either way, not great. Unfair to you and to that person. I’d highly recommend taking your time and enjoying the single life.”

Life was funny like this at times. Absolutely hilarious.

“Then again, that’s if you like someone. You never said you did, so I just rambled on for no reason,” Byul sheepishly scratched her neck. “But yeah, if you do think there’s someone you like, put a pin in it. They’re not going anywhere. Just have fun. . . . Was that helpful at all? You’re not saying anything so I’m getting self-conscious.”

“It was a lot to process.”

“Well, I’m always here for you. Never forget that.”

That was part of the problem.

*

“Unnie, turn on the air conditioning, please. It’s hot.”

“Maybe it’s because your drinking stew in the middle of summer?”

“No judgment, please. You’re better than that. And it’s August, that’s not exactly the middle of summer.”

Shaking her head, Yongsun stood from her seat on the couch to adjust the thermostat on the far end of the wall. Moments later, the central air system whirred to life. Despite the initial resistance to Hyejin’s request, Yongsun found herself grateful as she stood under the vent with a steady stream of cool, crisp air washing over her.

“Look at you enjoying it. I’m always right. I don’t know why you all are so reluctant to admit it.” At no point did she look up from her stew.

“We’re reluctant to admit what?” Wheein asked, finally returning from the bathroom.

“Did you fall into the toilet?” Yongsun asked as she returned to her spot on the couch.

“What would you do if I said yes?”

“Laugh.”

“Rude,” Wheein playfully stuck her tongue out before getting comfortable next to Yongsun. “Hyejin, what were you saying about us being reluctant to admit something?”

“I was telling unnie that I’m always right and that no one ever wants to admit it.”

“Ah, so you were talking nonsense. Got it.”

“Jung Wheein,” Hyejin turned to glare at her in warning. The two on the couch found this comical, the exact opposite of what the youngest intended, but she did nothing but turn back around to resume with her stew.

It wasn’t that Wheein and Hyejin grew bored of Jeonju, it was more that they missed Seoul. More accurately, seldom during the school year were there opportunities to freely roam the city and spend their days doing whatever they pleased. They also missed Yongsun a ton. As such, the two decided to spend a week at their home away from home, checking first with Yongsun about whether they could stay with her. The older girl agreed immediately. Aside from working at the Academic Support Center for Athletes (ASCA)—her work with the university-athletes assigned to her in the spring had impressed the Center’s director so much that he extended an offer for her to stay on during the summer—Yongsun wasn’t doing much. Most of her time was spent at her parents’ home, watching Byulyi’s games with her family. When Wheein and Hyejin reached out about staying with her, she jumped at the chance to hang out with people her age—Yonghee didn’t count.

She mentioned it to Moonbyul during their call a couple days ago and, in addition to offering advice on her love life, the younger girl also offered her apartment. It made sense to everyone involved: Heeyeon and Byul were away, their apartment was empty, and the athlete’s bed could easily accommodate Wheein and Hyejin. That was the plan that Yongsun and the two younger girls followed. They arrived from Jeonju yesterday and would stay a full seven days before leaving the following Monday. For now, though, the three were gathered in Moonbyul and Heeyeon’s living room, getting ready for the final preliminary round game: Korea vs. Ghana.

Both teams had identical records—two wins and two losses. A win today guaranteed finishing third in the group. Each team was already moving on to the next round as the top four of each group qualified for the quarterfinals, but finishing fourth meant playing the tournament-favorite USA, and neither team wanted that.

“Unnie, is Chorong bringing a television when she moves in?”

“Yeah. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss Misuk’s until it was gone. The one in my room is tiny.”

“Hers was so big,” Wheein wistfully remembered.

“Love big things,” Hyejin suggestively commented.

“Why are you like this, Hyejin?”

“What? Do you not like big things, Wheein?”

“No comment. And what big things have you had lately? Hmm? I don’t recall any.”

“Low blow. Yes, I have been in a slump, but my time will soon come!”

“The first step is believing.”

“Speaking of no longer having big things, Yongsun-unnie, how are you dealing with the breakup?”

“What does my breakup have to do with big things, or with no longer having big things?”

Hyejin’s mind oftentimes confused her. The way Wheein giggled next to her, though, Yongsun felt like maybe she was missing the obvious connection.

“Y’know. Big things. Jinyoung,” the tanned beauty mischievously wagged her eyebrows.

“Seriously, Hyejin! I’m not discussing that.”

“Come on, unnie! Don’t be like that. There’s nothing wrong with talking about this stuff, it’s natural, and you’re with some of your best friends.”

“Did the two of you do stuff together?” Wheein asked as she lifted her legs and rested them on Yongsun’s lap, laying her head on the arm of the couch.

“I don’t know,” she evasively answered, picking up the remote to find the channel that the game would be on.

“You don’t know if you did stuff with your ex-boyfriend?” Hyejin challenged.

“We did stuff, yes. We went out to eat and went to exhibits.”

It hadn’t dawned on her before that she never discussed or anything like that. Only recently had she started talking about attraction and romance. It was a bit embarrassing how late she was to dealing with this part of her personal development.

“You don’t have to be self-conscious about that stuff with us, unnie,” Wheein used her legs to nudge Yongsun’s knees. “Other than kissing and a little touching here and there, I didn’t start doing things with people until last year. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Wheein’s right, unnie. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’re friends. Who else are you supposed to talk about this stuff with, right?”

This was true.

“We did some things, nothing too wild. We never went all the way, though. Just kissing and touching. I was never ready for more and he was understanding about that.”

“That’s sweet. He always struck me as a gentleman,” Wheein observed.

“He is.”

“Speaking of gentlemen, look at our gentlewoman on the screen! Byul-unnie’s such a hottie.”

“What’s with you and starting every sentence of yours with ‘speaking of’?” Wheein asked.

“I didn’t even notice that!” Yongsun giggled.

Hyejin ignored them and focused instead on the game, which was starting. In fact, all three did.

Silence engulfed the room as Yongsun, Wheein, and Hyejin paid close attention to the match’s opening moments. From the opening tip, the competition was stiff. The physicality and intensity was unlike any of the previous four games—it was clear that moving on to the next stage of competition and avoiding the USA meant a lot to both sides.

Nerve-racking didn’t even begin to describe how Yongsun felt. Flips, dips, and turns. That’s all her stomach was doing. Her entire body vibrated, on edge about how this game would turn out. The graduate student had even tried doing some research on the Ghanaian team, but her efforts proved mostly fruitless—they lost to Australia and Spain, and defeated Puerto Rico and Canada. Exactly like the Korean team. If anything, Yongsun gleaned that the African team played a fast game, similar to the team from Spain, and from what she remembered, Korea struggled with that. The Coach for the team had experience. She trusted that he’d make the necessary adjustments and prepare the team properl–

“Hello! Earth to Yongsun-unnie,” Wheein waved a hand in front of the older girl’s face.

“Huh?”

“You zoned out. Hyejin and I were celebrating the fact that Byul-unnie’s coming into the game.”

“Oh,” she responded distractedly. Her musings had completely overwhelmed her.

“Thought the president of the fan club would be more excited about it.”

“She’s nervous, Wheein. Look at her wringing her hands. Poor thing. It’ll be okay, unnie,” Hyejin laughed.

And it was. Watching these games with her family was enjoyable, but watching with Wheein and Hyejin was fun! Their commentary was unmatched and usually had very little to do with the actual game.

“She’s pretty! Do you two think Byul-unnie would introduce me to her?”

“She plays for the other team, Wheein.”

“Other team as in . . . straight?”

“Other team as in Ghana.”

“Oh. Well my answer was going to be the same regardless—I still have a chance.”

“How would you even meet her? You’re not in Japan.”

“I support you in everything, Hyejin, and this is how you repay me. All I’m asking for is a little considera–”

“Anyway, I sent Byul-unnie a message telling her you like #3 on Ghana and I found the girl’s Instagram. Here,” Hyejin rolled her eyes before passing off her cell phone to Wheein.

“Unnie, don’t I always say that Hyejin’s the best,” Wheein changed her tone. “I always say it to anyone that will listen. Ahn Hyejin’s truly the best.”

Their shenanigans helped tremendously in easing her stress over the outcome of the game. They even somehow managed to make her laugh during one of the most heart-stopping moments of the evening.

Tied game: 56-56. Third quarter, 9:25 left.

The whole game was entertaining, but what seemed to grab the attention of most was the battle of the point guards. Moonbyul hadn’t started the game, but the impact she made upon entering was hard to overlook. The blonde had since become a cornerstone of the Koran team’s game plan, especially on defense. The Ghanaian point guard was dynamic—she could defend, she could score, she could pass. Overall, a handful. And although Byul hadn’t been able to completely shut her down, her defensive efforts had significantly clamped down on the Ghanaian athlete’s efficiency and effectiveness. At no point had Yongsun seen Byulyi as locked in on a defensive assignment as today. Maybe too locked in.

The Ghanaian ran here and there, zigged and zagged, looking to elude Moonbyul, who was always right on her heel. For a split second, #8 got the best of the blonde and found herself open long enough the get the ball at the top of the key. Immediately after the basketball touched her fingers, Byul recovered and tightly covered the girl’s back, leaving her little if any space to turn around. Whether it was on purpose, or simply a matter of circumstance, the Ghanaian swiveled her body looking to face the basket. In doing so, her left elbow caught Moonbyul square in the eye. As her friend fell to the floor in a heap, Yongsun’s breath stopped.

This was the part of watching these games that Yongsun hated the most. Whatever happened on the court, however Byul’s games turned out, Yongsun had no control. She felt helpless and useless. In this moment, it filled her with fury that, not only was she in a different country, even if she was in Saitama Super Arena, she’d still be powerless and unable to effect any change. Annoying.

Flanked by training staff, Moonbyul walked to the back, for treatment, no doubt. About 10 took-forever minutes later, she was back on the bench sporting a giant black and blue bruise under her left eye. For what it was, all seemed to be fine because the Coach put her back in the game. Try as she might, though, Yongsun couldn’t relax her tense posture, and she wondered if this was normal. Was her concern for Byulyi strictly platonic, or was there more credence to the conclusion she came to four days ago? Yongsun still couldn’t tell.

“You know,” Hyejin started seriously, “I didn’t expect it, but Byul-unnie looks even hotter with that bruise.”

“Okay, thank you! Because I was thinking it, but didn’t want to be the one to say it,” Wheein added, relief clear in her voice.

“So hot! You know more girls are going to throw themselves at her offering to ‘help’.”

“It’s kind of being wasted on her. She doesn’t hook up with anyone!”

“Throwing away perfectly good opportunities to have some fun,” a crestfallen Hyejin shook her head, “Shame.”

Yongsun threw her head back and laughed harder than she’d laughed all day, which was a lot because she was hanging out with Wheein and Hyejin. Their absurd comments were so . . . perfectly them. Yongsun found them refreshing.

“Well,” Wheein started, “that was fun.”

“It was! I’m so amped up! Can’t wait for the next game on Thursday,” Hyejin agreed.

The Korean team won. Eked out a victory, really, but a win is a win. They’d have a day to recover and prepare before taking on a powerhouse French team. Whether the team could keep up performing at such a high level, Yongsun had no idea, but she was looking forward to finding out.

“Is there more food?” Hyejin asked.

“I put the extra in the fridge. If not, I have more at my apartment.” Her mom sent her back on Sunday with enough food to last her a week. Taking Wheein and Hyejin’s voracious appetites into account, the food could last the three of them a few days.

“I’ll go check.”

As Hyejin lifted herself from the floor and ambled to the kitchen, Wheein circled back to an earlier conversation they started but never finished.

“So . . . how does being single feel? Are you okay after the breakup?”

“I’m fine. It’s weird, I haven’t really felt sad or distraught or anything. Makes me wonder if I ever liked him romantically.” After her never‑ending reflection on things with Moonbyul, dissecting her relationship with Jinyoung was second on Yongsun’s list of things to drive herself mad over.

“Everyone reacts to things differently, unnie. Just because you’re not crying or having outbursts doesn’t mean you didn’t care about him in your own way. It depends on the person.”

“I guess,” she shrugged, thoughts still racing as she set her eyes on the now turned off television.

“I’m back! What did I miss?”

“Not much,” Wheein giggled. Watching Hyejin arrange all of her food on the living room table was surprisingly fascinating. “Unnie’s still fine after her breakup.”

“Mmm, that’s good! A good start to your post-relationship glow.”

“My what?”

“Post-relationship glow.”

“It’s like . . . I don’t know how to explain it. Hyejin, explain.”

“It’s when someone gets out of a relationship and they get hotter. Start having more fun, enjoying the single life. Doing their thing.”

“I see. Does this automatically happen once someone gets out of a relationship? Like, how does it work?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Hyejin beamed. “Most of it is your attitude. Confidence. Some people change something about their appearance, some don’t. It’s whatever you want, but the attitude is key. You have to really believe that you’re the hottest person in every room you enter. Self-love stuff.”

“Yeah, then that sticks to you and everything gets exponentially better. You just start glowing. When the mentality is there, everything else follows.”

“For sure. And, optional but strongly encouraged, going out and hooking up with people. Just to test all the skills that went dormant during the relationship.”

“But,” Wheein quickly inserted herself. She saw the argument at the tip of Yongsun’s tongue. “Hooking up is not a requirement. You could just flirt. It’s really about opening yourself up to meeting new people.”

“Yes to what Wheein said. I think you’ll really enjoy this time, though. And you said earlier that you and Jinyoung only kissed and stuff, but trust me, you’ll miss that, even if it was only a little bit. Might as well be open to doing it with other people without the stress and confines of a relationship.”

“It’s a . . . learning experience.”

“An educational opportunity, perhaps?”

These two were something else.

“So I’m supposed to go around hooking up with people?”

“You can, but the most important part is the confidence. It’s a time to grow to love yourself more. All of yourself.”

“Yeah. Love yourself and have fun. The hooking up stuff is secondary, but if you’re loving yourself and having fun, that attracts people.”

“It’s true,” Wheein nodded.

“So . . . yeah. All of us can go out together and have fun! Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

“Actually . . . yeah. Some of it does. The confidence stuff.”

“Yay! It’ll do you so much good, unnie,” Hyejin’s voice softened. “Jinyoung was a great start, but you have so much more in you waiting to come out. You’re hot.”

“Super hot.”

“Super, duper hot. And you haven’t even touched on 20% of your hotness. The day you tap into all of your potential, it’s over for everyone.”

“Oh gosh, Hyejin. Please,” Yongsun rolled her eyes and chuckled softly.

“I’m serious! Wheein, tell her!”

“It’s true, unnie! You could be really dangerous. Very.”

“But you have to be open to exploring and growing in that regard.”

“I already said I’d go out with you two. That’s all I’m committing to right now. The rest . . .  we’ll see.”

“Got it! I’ll take that!” Hyejin fist pumped.

“Now that that’s settled, what are we doing tonig–”

Wheein was interrupted by Yongsun’s cell phone ringing. She knew who it was before picking up the phone. The surprising part was that she hadn’t realized so much time had passed since the game ended. Time flew when in good company, it seemed.

“Sorry, Wheein-ah. I have to take this.”

Upon the video call connecting, Yongsun was treated to the cutest, brightest smile she always appreciated, but never openly praised.

“Hi,” she grinned.

“Hi,” Moonbyul grinned back. “You’re at my place?”

“Yeah. You know I only have the small television since Misuk left with her big one.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Did you text me?”

“Not this time, no. I was so excited, I just called you as soon as I could. Is this a good time to talk?”

“That’s fine. I thought I missed a text, but I’m happy to hear I didn’t. And yeah, we can talk.”

“No! You can’t talk, she’s with us!” Hyejin sprang from the floor to throw herself across Yongsun and her face into the phone.

“Hi, Hyejin-ah,” Byulyi greeted the youngest cutely, signature smirk etched on.

“Don’t ‘hi, Hyejin-ah’ me. I never got a video call after your Olympic games,” she pouted.

“Me neither!” Wheein yelled, head still resting in the arm of the couch.

“Hi, Wheein-ah!”

“Save it.”

“Yikes. I’m in trouble.”

“Yes, you are. Where were our calls?”

“I love you both,” the athlete deflected.

Yongsun had long since surrendered her phone to Hyejin. The back and forth between her friends gave her more time to think. There were butterflies fluttering in her tummy again when she heard the familiar ringtone chime. That had to mean something. And her cheeks were sore from how hard she smiled at seeing Byulyi’s face and hearing her voice. That, too, had to mean something. Right?

The problem was that she had nothing to compare her reactions to Moonbyul to. Whatever she thought she felt for the athlete far surpassed what she knew she felt—or didn’t feel, rather—for Jinyoung, and there weren’t any others that she had ever considered as plausible options. Maybe Hyejin and Wheein were right. She needed to allow herself to be attracted to other people.

“Unnie,” she heard Hyejin say. Thinking the younger girl was talking to her, Yongsun looked up, but quickly realized she was still messing with Moonbyul. “Yongsun-unnie is gonna start going out with me and Wheein.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Are you going to join us?”

“I do know that we all have to go out for your birthday when I get back. That I can commit to.”

“You’re not gonna pick up people with us?”

“Yongsun agreed to go pick people up? Sounds like something you made up.”

“Tell her, unnie!”

With the phone now turned towards her, Yongsun shrugged her shoulders at Byulyi before unenthusiastically agreeing. “Yeah. I agreed to go out with them. I’m not fully opposed to picking people up. Considering it. Gotta live it up every now and then, right?”

“See!” Hyejin turned the phone back.

“Mmm.”

“Back to my birthday, though, it’s good to hear that you remembered.”

“Of course I did. I could never forget my favorite girl’s birthday. We have to celebrate. Once these pesky Olympics are over, we can get to the important things, yeah?”

“I like what I’m hearing,” Hyejin smirked.

“Wait, Hyejin’s your favorite girl? You told me that I’m your favorite girl!” Wheein sat up in protest.

“You are. All three of you are my favorite girls.”

“So who’s your most favorite?” Hyejin inquired.

“I got this gross bruise today. I think I deserve all three beautiful women, don’t you?”

“Ugh. Annoying.”

“You sound like Yongsun!” Moonbyul laughed.

“I don’t know how or why unnie puts up with you.”

“Neither do I, but I’m grateful for it.”

At no point did Yongsun get her phone back to have a one-on-one conversation with Moonbyul. Hyejin, and later Wheein, coopted the call, which was fine by her. She sat back and listened as Byulyi continued to say all the right things at the right times, sprinkling in the perfect amount of humor and self‑deprecation. The athlete always did. And that . . . bothered her? She wasn’t exactly sure what to call it, but it was something she had to consider. Yet another thing to be considered.

It wasn’t that Byulyi was disingenuous in what she said and did. She said and did sweet things because she was a sweet person. What Yongsun worried about was that, like the long list of girls that came before her, she was getting caught up in the sweet things and projecting meaning where there was none.

Eric was right. She needed to take a deep breath. Was she attracted to Byulyi? She wasn’t yet sure. It was possible. Did she need time to come down from her relationship, focus on herself, and maybe have some fun? Yes. Absolutely yes.

That would be her focus for now. Everything else could wait.

Note: I’m so sorry. Please don’t  k i l l  me.